Chapter Two: Starvation
Year 582 of the 19th Era; 19e-582
Mid Autumn
Face of Tahriphakai (Deity of Destruction) / The Wastes
Then it happened.
The flora withered and died, the land became dry, and the air acrid as rain became sparse. Gradually, the term 'The Wastes' grew in popularity for the region that had turned barren and treacherous. Eventually, a more formal name was given to the dying lands, The Face of Tahriphakai, named after the Deity of Destruction, for the land was slowly destroying the life that depended on it. Nonetheless, swaths of fertile land still existed, along with pockets of oases here and there amongst the land that had turned rotten. Still, everyone feared that, sooner than later, their life-nurturing land would give way to the destruction and decay around it.
The Wastes were only growing larger and larger by the passing years.
After all, the realm was known for its abundance of chaotic magic and the phenomenon known as a Shift. It had happened not long ago — so much magic had overwhelmed the atmosphere and land that something had to snap…and so it did. The land was dying, yet horrible storms still raged, and earthquakes tore across the region, forever changing it. That was the Shift — the chaotic magic changing the world in sudden and terrifying ways, over and over again until the magic ran thin.
And no one knew how it would change or when it would stop. Or even…where it might strike next.
A lone Zirano of Burning Earth walked through a dying forest, his trusty hammer swinging at his hip. He had used it many times, far more times than a few years ago. He paused, gazing upon still lush berries nestled among the leaves of several small bushes. The forest that had once been lush during his youth was now reduced to decay. Skeletons and decomposing corpses of the unfortunate littered the once lively forest. Those of the dead had met their fates due to malnutrition, starvation, dehydration, or competition.
The man, Raeburn, crouched before the berry bushes and plucked berry after bright red berry, popping them into his mouth. He licked every drop of juice that escaped his lips, barely savoring the sour flavor. Every little piece of fruit he ate would allow him to live just a little longer until his next meal.
A foot stomped the infertile ground, stirring dust in its wake. Raeburn looked up, mid-chew. His apricot eyes met the glaring eyes of another Zirano, this one a woman of freezing lightning. She had drawn one of several swords strapped to her hips and back. The blade was rusted with dried blood, telling of the many battles she had won. White lighting crackled in her other outstretched hand, a frost already gathering on a low, overhanging branch.
Sneering, Raeburn rose from his crouched position in front of the berry bushes. This woman was another Zirano, the opposite of his burning earth manipulation — how dare she challenge him. He shook out his thick head of dark-tawny hair before withdrawing his hammer and giving it a mighty whack to the husk of a birch, nearly uprooting the frail tree. Retracting his hammer, he revealed a gaping hole in the dried bark. Raeburn clenched his fist for a heartbeat before unfurling his fingers, revealing a hunk of glowing red, smoldering earth.
The pair belonged to powerful bloodlines of Zirano, their hair color matching their core element and their eyes matching their contorting element. Raeburn, the Burning Earth Zirano, had dark-tawny hair that represented his core element of earth, and his apricot-orange eyes represented his contorting element of fire. The upper half of his body was covered in flame-like markings, starting brown at his chest and transitioning to orange as they traveled up his neck and the back of his head. The woman, a Freezing Lightning Zirano, sported flax-blond hair, representing her core element of lightning, and her eyes were white, representing her contorting element of ice. Her markings were jagged like a lightning bolt, every other branch switching between white and yellow, the markings covering the right half of her body.
As the woman, Marzana, stared down Raeburn, she matched his intimidation display. She whipped her drawn sword between two birches, sending wood chips flying as the blade sliced bits cleanly off the trunks. Human remains trapped within one of the hollows were sent flying. As the delicate and brittle jawless skull rolled toward Raeburn, he crushed it beneath his boot, bellowing. Marzana replied with a stomp, scattering detritus as white lightning flickered around her, creating an icy chill.
The two Zirano circled the small clearing, the prized berry bushes between them. Raeburn and Marzana rushed each other, hammer clashing against sword, lightning against earth, burning against freezing. The sound of their fight overtook the deafening silence of the dead forest.
Marzana was forced back between the thicket of demolished birches. The young woman screamed at Raeburn, threatening to gore him with her spiked shoulder pads as she tried to hold him back. She twisted and turned, using her armor as a weapon the closer Raeburn got. The man had to sidestep, his hammer swings missing by a margin as he avoided being impaled on the woman's shoulder armor.
Unphased by his younger opponent and seeing an opening, Raeburn charged, shoulder-checking Marzana, sending her reeling into a log. The already brittle, half-decayed wood crumbled under her and her heavy armor's weight. She roared in agitation, attempting to pull herself from the remains, but found herself weighed down, her sword lodged into a portion of less rotten wood. The half-intact log groaned as the woman wrenched and pulled at her blade, but the weapon would not give way.
Screaming in fear, Marzana barely missed a swipe to the neck from Raeburn's hammer. She sidestepped, rotating to miss another hammer strike, the hammer smashing into the rotten log instead. Raeburn snarled and yanked, releasing his weapon in a shower of splinters. The decayed log had cracked into pieces, yet some parts were still skewered onto the woman's sword. Marzana's sword was still not freed. The tip was lodged into the remaining pieces of rotten wood. Marzana could just let it go and flee for her life, but she couldn't lose even one of her blades to the cruel world she now lived in.
The Zirano of Freezing Lightning tried to dislodge her blade from the wood to no avail. Cursing and panic coursing through her, the woman stirred up loose soil and sand with a sweep of her foot. Raeburn was forced back, squinting through the grit and dust hanging in the air.
Marzana screamed again, smacking into the decayed log, trying desperately to dislodge her blade. She wrenched and wrenched until her body smashed into another half-uprooted tree. The ominous creak filled the dusty air, and before she could move out of the way, the tree fell, pinning Marzana beneath it.
Marzana was trapped.
When the debris finally cleared, Raeburn lumbered over to the woman, his apricot-orange eyes cold, while her white eyes still held a fiery determination mixed with fear. As the Zirano of Burning Earth lifted his hammer, Marzana looked so much younger, that fear melting away the harshness that had aged her so much. No matter, the remanences of that fire were snuffed out with a sickening crack.
Blood dripped from Raeburn's hammer onto the caved skull of the fallen woman. He snorted and reclaimed his meal.
Many would lose their lives for the right to food. Sometimes carelessly.
Raeburn had long since departed, the fruiting bushes depleted. A small group of Bliss Elohim, including several children, had taken over the decaying forest. Some were picking at the rotting carcass of Marzana still pinned under the dead tree while others pulled away clothes and pouches that clung to other long-dead corpses. The Elohim were thieves, looking for anything they could barter for food.
Chrysoberyl-green eyes glittered like fractal jewels while varying amounts of dark blue and brown colored their hair. The group was not pure-blooded Bliss Elohim; their entire village was mixed with Meek blood. That was why their hair wasn't as pastel as their pure-blood counterparts. They didn't possess the familiar red-to-purple swirls upon their body, nor were they quite as ethereal as they should be. Nonetheless, they were still Elohim of Bliss. The group collected what they could from already picked-over bodies. They chatted amongst themselves, speaking quietly as if not to disturb the dead or alert anyone nearby of their thieving.
One sensed a strange presence and trilled a warning call, but they were too late.
A pair of gold eyes leered down at the Bliss Elohim before a cage of bone snapped down upon one of the dusky-brown and blue-haired people. She cried out for her brethren, but they could only woefully call back to her, unable to compete with the hunter. Blood trickled from where the sharpened stakes of the cage had punctured deep between her ribs. She was skewed alive as her hunter paid her no mercy. The much larger woman tossed the smaller into the air, watching as she landed with a sickening thud, skewered through the middle by a lance of bone.
The heavily muscled woman, Akasuna, a Bone Dahesser, cracked her neck before drawing a dagger of bone from her elbow. She approached her victim, delivering a killing slice to her throat. As she turned to the other Elohim, who watched in fear, a pair of women joined Akasuna's side. Sisters, one sporting sapphire-blue hair and dusky-goldenrod eyes, while the other had fern-green hair and dim-orange eyes. The sisters were similar but very different from the Bliss Elohim. They were the opposite race of the angelic Elohim — demonic Shedim. However, their blood was so diluted that they only possessed a weak form of their subrace's power and none of the demonic appearance. Shedim and Elohim, without their characteristic looks and only a fraction of their usual power, were known as Xi-Shedim or Xi-Elohim.
Taking a seat on the barren earth, Akasuna allowed the sisters to hunt the remaining Bliss Elohim. The sharp smell of blood filled the air, and the screams of pain and horror sliced through the once-deafening silence of the dead forest. Many fled for their lives, but few escaped the clutches of the blood-thirsty sisters. All too soon, the Xi-Shedim pair returned to their matron, the smaller and more slender Bliss Elohim grappled in their arms.
The sapphire-haired woman, Keskiyo, half-heartedly fought with the villager she had brought. Flesh was torn, blood was spilled, and bones crumbled, all with little to no contact from Keskiyo. Slight amusement flickered in her dusky-goldenrod eyes. She did enjoy using her innate Shedim ability, even if it was weaker than other people of her kind. The villager screamed obscenities and cursed the world as they were tortured until Keskiyo had enough. The Bliss Elohim clutched their chest before slumping to the ground, dead.
Keskiyo took her place beside Akasuna, glancing up at the woman, silently asking for her approval. The older woman nodded and leaned forward, dipping her fingers into the warm, fresh blood of the fallen and tracing the white bone-like markings on one of her arms. The fern-green-haired sister, Metsa, being far bolder, had other plans for her victim.
The Elohim Metsa had claimed was younger and much smaller than her. The Xi-Shedim grasped the young girl by the neck and tossed her into the air. She landed with a sickening thud but was still very much alive. Metsa crouched over the Bliss Elohim, a slight smile crawling across her lips. The young girl began to bleed, blood dripping from her eyes and mouth. She gagged on her blood, struggling to breathe as the warm, metallic liquid became thicker and thicker. Then, slowly, the blood flowing from unseen wounds drew upwards, gathering into an ever-moving orb just above her head. As more and more blood gathered above the Elohim's head, it solidified, taking the shape of a blade.
Metsa grabbed the blade floating in mid-air and ran her tongue along its length, slicing her tongue. Her blood mixed with the streak of the girl's blood left behind from the blade. Then, the green-haired Xi-Shedim sliced tiny cuts across the girl's body, savoring her blood and screams.
When the Xi-Shedim finally grew tired, she wrapped the young girl in a tarp, the last of her dark-cobalt-blue hair visible for one last time until she was gone from sight. The doomed Elohim of Bliss, hardly alive, would suffocate soon enough. Metsa had finally satisfied her blood-lust, for now. She had killed enough children to satisfy her, and that one she would save for later. Lapping her lips, Metsa recounted the spatter of blood that had landed on them — the wonderful taste. The delicious sound of bones cracking and her blade slicing through flesh. Oh, it was glorious. And now, their bodies lay about, adding to the carnage of the decaying forest.
Tuckered from the fight, Metsa yawned and curled beside the Freezing Lightning Zirano carcass. Keskiyo, the more tempered one, rolled her eyes at her sister's blood lust. Metsa loved to quench her thirst on the whim, hardly considering how much exhaustion would weigh her down. However, during these hard times, the three needed to fatten their pockets. The more coins they had, the more food and other needed things they could buy. Killing someone and taking all they had was one way to get coins, especially when there was a pair of Xi-Shedim sisters thirsty for blood. Thievery wouldn't bring them enough coin, and it was far easier to get caught and killed than if they outright slaughtered someone.
Keskiyo tore into the meal she had unwrapped for herself, savoring each bite as the trio rested in the clearing. They had already found a stagnant spring to sip from, so all they needed was rest after picking the Elohim of Bliss clean of their money and valuable goods. It had been a good hunt.
As they basked in the sun's rays, Akasuna tucked a thick lock of beige hair into the rest of her soot-grey hair. She watched her two underlings, gold gaze unreadable other than the amused fondness coloring it, unlike her previous malice. However, soon enough, she rose from her spot, having seen something in the distance.
That fondness vanished as she sneered at the approaching figures—foolish Elohim.
The sisters watched their matron in curiosity until they, too, spotted the three attempting to be heroes and rescue their fellow villagers. The pair did nothing as the Bone Dahesser attacked. Soon enough, their matron returned, one Elohim impaled on a sword of yellowed and bloodied bone. The two other Bliss Elohim were tucked under each arm, Akasuna's fingernails bony, elongated, and sharp, digging deep into their sides. The woman stopped before her underlings, letting the impaled Elohim slide off her sword. The other would-be prisoners were tossed aside and tied up to be killed another day.
As the night grew on, the three hunters fell asleep. The two surviving, shell-shocked and quivering Bliss Elohim, were still captive in the Bone Dahesser's cage of bones. The Xi-Shedim sisters were snuggled together, fast asleep without a care in the world. Even as the tarp beside them rustled and the green-haired Metsa stirred, no hunter woke.
Gradually, the tarp tore open with little to no sound. The young girl, no more than twelve, climbed out, panting for breath. Her many wounds had ceased bleeding. The blue-and-brown-brindled-haired girl shuddered. The two survivors tearily whispered to her, urging her to flee. She stood there, unable to comprehend the world around her.
She was numb from being cramped in the suffocating tarp, mind frazzled and swimming. She couldn't move. The two survivors, one of whom was her aunt, continued to urge her to flee, to save herself. The girl's mind slugged through her numbness until she finally recognized the two. She crawled toward them, whispering back to them, insisting she would join them, tears glittering in her eyes. She was no match for the hunters, and they would surely wake the moment she ran for it. Her aunt's bright yellow-green eyes flashed with an electrifying aura, and she clenched the bars of the bone cage tight. Through her teeth, she hissed, demanding why her niece gave in so easily when freedom was steps in front of her. The dead look in the girl's eyes remained, her aunt's attempts to rally her futile.
Then, the girl's gaze swept shakily over the mutilated remains of her cousin, whom the Bone Dehesser had recently killed. A spark ignited within her, rousing her, her eyes brightening. With an abrupt surge of adrenaline, the girl staggered to her feet. Her knees nearly buckled, but with the encouraging looks from her aunt and fellow villager, she found her balance.
Glancing around wildly, the girl scoped out a thicket. She sped off but skidded to a halt. She casted a hard, mournful look at her doomed kin. However, with the softening of her aunt's gaze, she choked back a sob and fled. The soft warmth of bliss washed over her as her aunt gifted her one last blessing.
She ran.
She ran for her fallen kin and villagers.
She would tell the tale. She would spread the word of what happened tonight.
She would live to see another day.
The girl vanished into the dead plant life as the moon began to set.
When the young girl managed to track her village, her blood turned to ice.
She had found her kin…but not all alive.
Bile rose in her throat. Elohim, old and young alike, were strewn across the basin, each in various states of decay.
As she slid down the slope, she strolled toward the mass grave. She spotted some of her cousins, uncles, and aunts, as well as some of her nieces and nephews. She choked as she found the only survivors — the ones that feasted upon the dead. She found her mother, eyes hard and glassy.
"Why, Mother?"
There was no answer.
Her mother had cannibalized her children. Some were still alive, half-eaten, and viscera splayed out. The mother only stared through her daughter, no light behind her eyes. Fresh droplets of blood still trickled from her mouth onto the cracked peat of the former pond that used to water the entire village.
Disgusted and shocked, the girl realized she could not stay there. She no longer had a will to. Edging away from her kin, she fled, eyes burning and throat tight.
Many would not survive, even when united under one. Some would fall victim to their carnal instincts. However, there was a light even amongst those dismal years—a sanctuary for those wishing to escape the ravages of death that followed every village and family. Not wanting to resort to such survival tactics, those who knew of a certain haven trudged the wasteland. Desperate for food, they stuck out toward the west, where the sun kissed the horizon, acting as a guiding beacon, to the Ring of Bénipryroda, a fabled land still lush and green. It was a journey towards life. Hunters and scavengers stalked the pioneers, waiting to seize any who strayed.