Dazed azure cracked open with confused groan, visibly wincing as he groaned at the blinding light that invaded the space currently residing within. Hands spread out at his sides, feeling the soft tingle of delicate greenery meet his faint grip with surprising calm, Sarid had lay alone but in good health despite his recent endeavour. Vanished had the darkness that smothered him and his befuddled sanity, replaced by this piercing sunlight permeating through the holes of beautiful hanging nature. Drips of inky liquid cascading down the flawless greenery, like a sweet dew. At last, the unusual comfortable feeling left his head, he shakily stumbled to his feet, orbs gradually corrected to the rounded hills now stood upon. Surrounding him, was an incredible forest of crimson autumn leaves; swaying in the sweet breeze and twisting around the range the natural wood was nestled between.
And out of the sprawling forestry, did the crawling vines and stretching brush fall into a faded halt. Between the shrinking gaps of the ancient wood, lay a great beyond: a void as desolate and white as cleanly parchment engulfing the grand patch of beauty almost painted on to the great empty canvas.
Despite the negative cosmos Sarid had been plunged into, his acute senses could catch the dainty drips of flowing water pool into an opage blue surface, casting eyes through the dance of falling leaves, and felt his stress and confusion die down upon fixing sight across the beautiful scape. Under a meticulously crafted, maroon arched soribashi bridge was the calm bubbling sliver of a small serene river; travelling about the ethreal garden.
"Where... am I?" the lone warrior mused, engorged by the anomalistic patch slathered in eternity. Heavenly gales coursing along his ivory skin, the half-malak winced slightly, scratching his face, a slight sting of irritation zapping his nerves as fingertips trailed over his cheek delicately. The touch soon felt rough skin, and another pang of mild pain made his hand flinch away from the sliced wound. Eyebrows narrowing at this strange phenomenon, he soon noticed a soreness emanating from his whole body; even the actual eyesockets.
"Good morning," a mature, feathery voice lazily chimed from behind him, who he was once again completely unaware of another being's presence. Whipping around quickly, Sarid went to reach swiftly for his kunai, until he had his breath stolen from him in surprise, finally laying eyes upon the entity that awaited the realisation with a blank look and hardened eyes of a simmering amethyst.
Through the shifting sparkles of the peaceful space they currently resided in, sat a gorgeous woman who seemed as divine as the artistic celestial plane that shined down upon them, casually resting with a leg crossed over her knee upon a motionless tree branch sprouting from nothingness. Among the rays that pierced the leafy veil, was her smooth and silky long black hair - seeming impossibly volumous with its inky brush-like texture - swaying comfortably calf-length behind the twirling hanfu that tightly hugged her evidently curvaceous form. Accenting the intricate eastern knot earrings of scarlet hanging from her elvish ears, were a variety of teal blues and mint green highlights snaking along some of her dark strands.
Down below the scarlet knot earrings, was a short, milky white hanfu that wrapped tightly around the upper body; sleeves hanging delicately just below her elbow, with a sharp black texture marked over the fold above her well-endowed bust. In addition, did the threaded high collar enclose formally around her neck, accented with an inky black outline. Marking the seperation between the upper-half of the hanfu and the skirt, was a deep blue cloth belt tied high above the waist; loose straps cascading down the side of her full and revealed thighs from the sitting position. Brushing up the hanfu from this belt, is also a faded black gradient of leaves and waves copied similarly onto the sleeves. Lastly, just behind her crossed position, Sarid could catch the shimmer of a striking textural black skirt, accented with a shimmering triangle pattern to deepen its elegant yet formal design.
Huing the unobservable look she plastered lightly over her lips, was a honeyed complexion exotically accented by scarlet makeup as sharp eyeliner. The main highlighted contrast that stood out upon her features, were the lavish purple irises that somehow both softly and harshly gazed upon him, casted with sharp eyelashes. Her lips parted again, and that same euphonious yet casual tone leaked out like a shimmering waterfall.
"I hope you slept well," the older women blankly suggested with a passive look; tilting her head with a wondering close of her lavender spheres.
As Sarid was momentarily lost in the unexpected confusing sight, the lined lips twitched into a muffled hum of dry chuckles. Having just been on the precipice of death's cliff, Sarid had lost most of his logical thinking as he took in the natural environment twisted for his comfortable rest. The sheer variety in experiences having been whipped through, would send the mind reeling as if dragged by a building wave, and so words locked in his throat with a sizzling mind of uncertainty. Sarid was at a complete loss regarding the situation.
The mild rumbles of humour died to a drawl as quick as they came, the woman looking up once again and unveiling the striking amethysts as she peered onwards. "That answers my question then," the abnormal entity stated with a mild tilt of her head; tall glossy bangs that fell over her left eye shifting with the slight movement. However, that's when he finally noticed. From between the raven black strands mixed with teal, strange branch-like objects stabbed through: sharp bone structure jutting outwards and sprouting like that of viridescent antlers. Horns.
'Wait, horns...?' Finally, the half-malak shook his head to dissuade the haze having accumulated upon his disjointed thoughts, as the details of his dream-state sickly blurred together. Sure enough, the unnatural growths still remained, and only more cemented one assumption in mind as his vision welcomed another beastly detail. Wound around the hefty natural branch this mysterious entity had propped herself upon, was a great tail; toughened with silvery reptilian skin and flecked with teal feathers lining the top and tip. And, as the malakhim finally calculated what this information meant for him, Sarid did not hesitate.
Shing!
Kunai leapt forth from his extended palm, the glimmering and flawless edge shining in the imitated sun. Its lethel point darted right towards the presumed foe, spinning precisely at her face. Suddenly, the entity glared, and as the knife struck: it had stilled, frozen in between the steadfast fingers of the 'daemon.' Sarid's eyebrows shrunk in irritation, the hand that had ever so casually caught his suprise attack still propped up upon one elbow.
"How rude..." she breathed lowly, as if disappointed with the shameless assault. But even so, he could not mistake the appraising glances cast over the caught blade: flashes of recognition and sorrow reflected in its once innocent sheen. And all this final defiant action did, was reinforce Sarid's assumed beliefs. From the two delicate fingers that had stunned this violent precision, was a forearm dyed in a complete shade of artistic teal: a gradient painting of rolling clouds, snaking serpents, gouging grass, and roaring dragons all accented with various colour in the flawless eastern style. Even two lavender wrist beads wrapped around the right one of her pair of oriental limbs.
"I won't fall for your tricks, daemon," the traitorous malak snidefully barked, body lowered in readiness despite the serene atmosphere still flowing through the very veins of his surroundings. Sarid cocked an eyebrow as the kunai was dismissively flicked back over to him, planting itself into the abnormal dirt. And soon after, the warrior felt her piercing lavender strike through like a blade of its own; the next simple word placing a finishing touch on the fragile canvas of the heart.
"Hypocrite."
He winced, any next words of defamation falling flat upon his tongue. Nevertheless, Sarid held his ground in guilty silence.
"You are either a warrior with no heart, or a fool with no mind of your own." The ruthless words continued like a boiling waterfall, and the mysterious lady unwound both her crossed legs and coiled tail from the infinite branch where she sat. "Fight me? You would not be able to touch me with your words, much less your actions," she spat with narrowed brows, slipping from the anomalous wood elegantly. "You humans are always so fragile." At last, did her heeled foot planted upon the beautiful grass shards.
And, this painted world came crashing down upon him.
As if washed away by relentless streams, the evergreen forest abloom once full of life, was immediately strained away into the eternal crisp white surrounding it. Strokes of midnight shadow, splashes of sweeping lime, splotches of striking crimsons and blues, all reduced to the encompassing void under this entity's heel. All that remained of colour in the lifeless parchment of a world, was Sarid and the mysterious 'daemon.'
"W-What...?" The malak could not hide the shock at the sheer scope of power this foe potentially held, but even so, he steeled himself and cast his sharp gaze back onto the steadily approaching woman. "...What are you?" Sarid coldy questioned, his instincts blaring like an alarm with every click of her heels against the expansive frozen cosmos. His fists tightened with hostility.
"What would you believe?" She stopped before him. Violet bore into azure, one with no hint of clear emotion unravelling behind her tinted soul. It unnerved him. Even in this whitened abyss, the woman's trail of lengthy hair left painted strokes as she traversed the eternal plains. Sarid's eyes went from her daggered purple, to the draconic horns, and finally to the scaled tail that whipped at her back with flickering feathers.
"...Dragon."
She did not speak.
Crackle!
The language of thunder broke the tense atmosphere, as Sarid let the malakhim floodgates within twist open. Instantly, did the pumping energy of ancient civilisations shoot into human veins: spurring out the faithful golden sparks of lightning to roar along another trusty kunai slipping into his palm. Streaking across the minute distance before either could blink, the malak aimed to thread this powered blade right through the opposing foe's sternum: confident in its destructive power to shatter the dense bone.
Before it died out into silence once again.
The crackling calmed immediately, and the strenuous force felt as if it never existed. All it had taken, was for the entity's dorsal aspect to be placed against the side of this perfected blade. Somehow, the lightning had been tamed, and its wielder was left wide open. "Wake up, Hirawa."
Her palm slammed into his abdomen, and his body instantly relented under the strength.
Wisps of abstract reality shuddered from the magical blow, waves of burning ink lashing golden strokes of his being to brush over the dead canvas. Memories made, choices, mistakes: Sarid's mark had been plunged into this lifeless world, the start of a new painting in the making. And, he too eventually froze in his shaken position, internal systems stirred into a damaged haze. Soon, the paralysing pain subsided, but Sarid still remained perpetually stunned in place; eyes of lifeless sapphire staring dead into the outstretched palm of the mysterious being.
She sighed, decorative claws falling to the side while her face gradually softened. "Mankind... always so brash," she quietly mused with a check over the artistic nails she had struck the half-malak with. "I know who you are, and what you are," she suddenly spoke to the motionless statue, glaring orbs hardening once again like gems. "Sarid Barloc, loyal fighter for humanity, and ally to one of the worst dangers to it." The figure did not move, and so she stepped closer, one foot in front of the other with natural elegance. "...Do you expect to save anyone with the power you have?"
A flinch.
The woman huffed, and gently raised a hand to the sky; lining her simmering vision with the decorated palm of teal, and swiping two fingers across the watching void. Suddenly, did the artistic coalescence of a shadowy matter encroach around sharp fingertips, an inky darkness forming in the infinite expanse. "Throw away the weakness of humanity, embrace the power of your ancestry, or you will fall."
Until, it eventually formed in her threatening grip, the cry of distinct metal slicing through empty air shrieking out as she whipped the created weapon to her side. Its tall and straight blade was that of a longsword, edge whitened with a clean sharpeners as the centre lay dark and resilient. However, the typical cross-guard was gone, and what remained was a rectangular black guard beautifully accented with gold, as was the strong handle.
All the woman did was glance at the still frozen Sarid with a mild grimace she swiftly guarded, before sending the Jian cleaving through the silence towards his vulnerable flesh. Deep within the silent husk, did the oceanic eyes stir the soul with the sight that came down. As if ricocheting in his skull, the words repeated over and over, echoing within while the brush came down to mar crimson across this infinite canvas. And in the pits of those blank eyes that stared down his fate, was the reflection birthed on the fantastical blade edge: a pair of amethyst irises settling within Sarid's own. And, just as the life returned to his body, flooding the muscle with instinctual movement, the half-malakhim felt one thing, before his form sparked with golden lightning.
The skin on his forearms burned.
As the ancient Jian cleaved empty air, the mysterious woman was immediately alerted to the flash of electricity arcing behind her. Almost instantaneous to this crackling, was the abrupt well of power bursting from only a few feet away, and just before the great spiralling orb struck into her unguarded back; the powerful entity smiled gently. Sarid said nothing, as he plunged the incredible art right into the still 'daemon', its flooding vestiges of energy erupting around them and searing away the lacerated brush strokes of his past, along with the blighted parchment world that bound him.