Far, far away, on the other side of the same desert that three figures clad in onyx black armor now went their separate ways, leaving trails of mussed sand in their wake, a beautiful figure stood, immobile on a stretch of cracked earth that went as far as her eyes could see. She looked like a statue; one arm was raised, frozen, above her head, as though she had been attempting to shield her eyes from the sun, or perhaps touch it, and the other was frozen at her side, grasping the hilt of her sheathed sword. She had long, gorgeous, flowing silver hair that fluttered slightly in the rare gusts of hot wind. It was the only real proof that she might not have been a statue. She wore a simple crown on her head, a band of silver with a large gemstone in the middle, sitting above her forehead. Her face was emotionless and gorgeous beyond belief. The starkness of her beautiful figure in relation to the harsh reality of the desert was astounding. She wore a beautiful set of armor, polished silver with seven stars across its chestplate. She had not moved for a long time.
Nephis's mind was very contested. She had already felt the presence of several creatures scurrying either close by or far away, and they had not been turned to ash. But a small part of her brain still clung stubbornly to her doubts. What if it was an illusion? She could still very well be in Godgrave. After all, she couldn't remember how she had gotten here. But a nightmare creature powerful enough to trick the senses of a Saint surely would have other means to kill her, right? Was its goal to get her to move? Was its desire to destroy humans so powerful that it did not even care if it did not, ultimately, get to consume its conquered prey? Would it be satisfied if she merely turned to ash?
But where was it hiding? Did it truly lack the willpower to not charge the delicious meal that stood immobile, just waiting to be consumed? The vast plain around her was empty, as well. Did it have some sort of camouflage to hide both its appearance and presence?
That would be a fearsome creature, indeed.
She only knew of one other creature that had ever put her in such a stranglehold...
But she refused to think about that.
Another part of her mind was in more of a panic. She had gotten a glimpse of her landscape before turning to look at the sun and then freezing. A desert? But not the Nightmare Desert. She was far too familiar with the inhospitable place to not be able to tell the difference.
She also didn't remember any stretches of the desert with cracked earth, though she had not, of course, traversed it in its entirety. There could very well be such a place. But there were also no structures around her, destroyed or otherwise, closeby or in the distance. There were always ruins in the Nightmare desert, and she couldn't seem to see or sense any.
Eventually, after almost three hours of absolute stillness had passed, something changed. She felt a powerful creature moving across the desert. But not on the sand. No, this was a flying abomination. She gritted her teeth. Was that it? Had the creature finally revealed itself? She had not spotted it long before it did the same. She swore she could feel the gaze of the abomination piercing through her. She shivered. It was powerful, intelligent, striking, and terrifying... but not overly so.
She could kill a Great Monster.
She could sense that the creature was at least of that rank, from its gaze alone. It would be difficult, sure, especially without the help of Sunny or the Firekeepers, and Cassie's insight would be sorely missed here, as well, but she could do it. The only thing was... how could she be sure that this wasn't merely an excellently crafted part of a potential illusion? The possibilities flying through her mind made her head spin, and she felt a headache coming on. But then the gaze on her disappeared. 'Is it... retreating?' Somehow she felt that was not the case. Fifteen minutes later, she heard the distant sound of a rhythmic thumping on the cracked earth. Five minutes after that, she could sense the faint pounding through the ground if she concentrated hard enough. It was a group of people... no, a pair.
They were traveling on creatures used for transportation, most likely echoes of some sort. As they got closer, the sound of hooves began to reach her ears. Horses? She wasn't entirely familiar with those sorts of creatures. She had seen several before, however, and knew roughly what to expect.
Soon enough, they were practically on top of her. Her muscles tensed as the pair of riders stopped a dozen meters away from her, kicking up a small cloud of dust. She heard intentionally muffled voices, and then the sounds of the riders tentatively dismounting from their steeds. They were talking to each other in low voices, but with the hearing of a Saint, they might as well have been speaking into her ear.
"By the gods... Saphira is certain that she's real? How do we know this isn't a trap of some sort? Could she be an illusion?"
The voice was controlled and guarded, but a hint of incredulity was in the male voice. The reply came just as guarded, but there was barely hidden curiosity and eagerness in his words.
"She thinks so. Enough that she was scared to attempt touching her mind."
Suddenly, she heard him hiss slightly. "Okay, okay... not scared, wary. And for good reason... you can feel it, can't you?" There was silence where the other man presumably nodded. "Yeah. She's powerful. Really powerful. Where could she have come from? And isn't she cooking herself alive in that armor?"
Nephis was stunned. Not only were the voices unmistakably human, they were also quite young. Youths. The first voice sounded slightly older, but the younger boy couldn't have been older than 16. Perhaps even younger.
The pair began to approach her cautiously, with measured and cautious steps. She was surprised again; even from just the sound of them approaching her warily, she could tell that they were combatants themselves. 'Awakened?' They stopped a polite distance away and stared at her awkwardly for a few moments. Now that they were close enough, Nephis could finally get faces to match the words. She saw the younger one first.
His body was lean and a bit wiry; he looked acceptably strong for his presumed level of experience, though mysteriously not entirely in the way combat training toned the body, as though he had only been doing such training in the past few months. He had unkempt, short and slightly raggedy brown hair, and his skin was fair but darkened from an excess of time outdoors. He had an air of excitement about him, but there was also the poorly fitting maturity that came from those who had been forced to grow up too fast. If he wasn't awakened, he had at least seen a lot. His elder companion was taller than him, with a lean but muscular build. His hair was dark brown, almost black, and he had intense gray eyes. He seemed slightly more mature than the youth.
He also seemed more haunted.
They both possessed well-worn traveling clothes, reflecting their experience, and seemed familiar with each other. They were both shielding themselves from the sun with cloaks, but the older one's looked considerably more expensive, and his garments were darker. A lesser Legacy clan, perhaps? Both of the garments appeared to be mundane in nature, though. She was slightly confused to notice the swords they had at their sides, however. The youths' was still sheathed in a finely crafted red scabbard, but the older one had a much simpler blade that he rested on his shoulder, and also had a scabbard at his side. Not threatening, just reminding. Its blade was simple and practical, but much less ornate than the sword of the youth. Were they not memories? And had she accidentally switched the backgrounds of the two?
"Uh, hello, my uh... lady. Are you, um, alive?" The older one shot an exasperated look at him, though seemed just as interested in the answer. He spoke as well. "We saw you in the distance during our journey. Are you... well? Have you been caught in a spell of some sort?"
A lie. Nephis knew they had changed the course of their supposed journey some time back in order to run into her.
She sighed inwardly, making up her mind. This wasn't the work of a nightmare creature. She refused to believe it. From the perspective of the two youths, the mask of emotionless indifference turned colder and more formidable. Her eyes flicked toward them, meeting their own gazes, and the youth cursed and stumbled back, falling on his rear, face paling.
The older one reacted slightly better, though he paled as well and more or less jumped backwards, sword flying to readiness. Nephis moved, hand lowering to her side as a whirlwind of white sparks flew around her hand, manifesting into the hilt of a sword that suddenly ignited, forming a blade of radiant light. She turned towards the youths, eyes cold, and moved towards them with steps that seemed to shake the very earth. Her presence was tyrannical, domineering, terrifying, and overwhelming... she would not be denied.
By the time the memory had manifested itself into existence, the older of the two had hurriedly picked his companion up off the ground, and they had lunged backwards towards their horses. They did not mount the steeds, however, seemingly recognizing that this was not a fight they would be able to retreat from. A small part of her was surprised and a little impressed, but it was quickly overshadowed by the cold, dominating fury that nestled itself deep in her chest.
"Saphira! Help!" The youth screamed, legs shaking and face drained of blood. He seemed appropriately terrified... but Nephis knew it could easily be an act. The youth, who had finally drawn his blade, dropped it to the ground, seemingly in fear. But then, she saw a hint of something in his eyes, something mystical, and she paused. He had plucked a strung bow that had been resting on top of the terrified steeds that had already fled into the distance, and nocked an arrow from the quiver hidden on his back.
"Brisingr!" He cried, letting the arrow loose at her. She tilted her head for a moment in slight confusion. What was an arrow going to do to her? Surely he could tell it would not help whatsoever in slowing her down. But a deep part of her reacted to the word.
Brisingr.
It was infinitely familiar, while at the same time entirely unknown.
But for some reason, she wasn't surprised when the arrow burst into fearsome flames.
She didn't dodge.
The arrow struck her with an explosion of fire, wreathing her figure.
For a moment, the youth, though suddenly drained of power from using his supposed Aspect, looked triumphant, but then his face paled even further and his eyes bugged.
"Impossible."
He fell to his knees and stared in horror as the smoke around Nephis cleared. She was standing in the same place as before, unmoving except the hand she once more held in front of her face.
She was unharmed.
Beautiful orange flames danced along the length of her arm, twisting and flowing as though a living being. Nephis stared impassively as the flames slowly began to die out. Even now, they only remained because of the power of her ascended ability.
Then, she commanded the flame to move.
Flowing from her arm to the rest of her body, the flame began to change colors. By the time it licked her greaves, it had turned an ethereal, gorgeous white that seemed capable of burning the very fabric of reality around it. Something sparked deep within her eyes, a pinprick of light so small it was near impossible to notice.
"Fascinating."
She said, a hint of some vague emotion in her voice. No one in this world would have noticed it, except for a single man.
Or, perhaps, seven of him.
It was curiosity.
* * *