Nearie floated through a void—the void she had created so many centuries ago. It was a wonder it had lasted this long. Normally, he would come to disturb her projects.
It's actually been some time since he visited, Nearie thought. Though it was nice to keep a dimension for longer than a millennium, his absence only made her fear what he was doing. Though he would stall her, he had never destroyed her—not outright anyway.
She floated in a fetal position, her form perfectly human. Though she never understood why she preferred it, she found it similar to being intoxicated.
Nearie perked up as a sudden chill ran down her spine. She uncurled herself as her entire void began to shake. There was a surplus of mana somewhere—an enormous amount.
She opened a hole in her mana well, and an immediate burst of lightning struck her body. She froze, unable to move. The mana flowing into her wasn't normal—was it infecting her? Her mind raced to him. Was this his doing?
Panic set in as she felt the mana disperse through the void. The once-white expanse began to speckle with dark crimson red,
Her form grew sluggish as the condensed mana that made up her body showed signs of infection as well. In a panic, Nearie thrust herself from that void, landing atop a hill near a random city. Her form was still sluggish, but she managed to look up at the cause.
Large lightning tendrils separated throughout the entire city. The tendrils spread apart, breaking through rock and stone. Nearby hills were struck and charred, then broke apart from the high-magnitude earthquake that followed. The nearby river shook and splashed, catching tendrils of lightning that killed all marine life.
Human souls screamed out as thousands were separated from their temporal forms. Nearie watched each one ascend to the skies, while a few fell toward her once-home.
The sheer destruction belittled anything she had ever done before. The sky cracked with the infectious mana as the air began to sting her throat.
The sound portrayed Heaven's trumpets she'd heard eons ago. A sudden burst of awe—and arousal—struck her, even as her body fought the infection. She forced clean mana to cover the infected areas, allowing her body to temporarily complete its shape.
She stood up, watching with stunted awe as she pressed her fingers to her lips and let a floozy grin cross her face. She ignored the screams of the Sasscare she'd had infiltrating the city. They went silent one by one as death took them.
Nearie sighed in exaltation. "What a gorgeous sight," she said to herself.
She placed one hand on her chest, the other to her face. The fact that her void was destroyed didn't even bother her now. She could only speak to herself.
"I believe I have found myself a new fancy," she said, a small trickle of drool seeping from her lips
Coras waited outside the hospital. Yesterday's previous bursts of emotion were gone, and it almost seemed like they'd never existed. Of course, once one felt nothing, they often couldn't describe emotion the moment after.
He looked outward to a city that was, in all terms of the definition, destroyed. There were still buildings that stood, many of those had black streaks across the side. Like frozen lighting.
He lifted his foot, leaving behind an imprint on the ground. His footsteps often left something behind. Weighing nearly eighteen and a half tons didn't make one discrete. Indeed he got many stairs from hospital staff, injured, and even healthy patients.
He ignored them, walking back to the center.
Several minutes later, Coras found himself surrounded by rubble that was once seventy percent of a thriving city. He walked until he found it.
A crater.
It was large and in the center of it was a hole larger than his fist. He knew this when he reached his hand inside. He opened his hand, shoving aside the rock that surrounded it, then forced his hand further down.
The rocks broke apart, and Coars gripped the bottom of the hole. He pulled out a chunk of rock, and inspected the top, rearranging his fingers to be as delicately as possible.
A single hair, trapped between the tip of his gauntlet, and the stone it laid on.
This was the cause, Coras thought. A single hair. Had he not been there to witness the event, he wouldn't have believed any such story.
The hair was silver in color, though a single strand made it hard to tell, Coras could see the reflection of the setting sun. It wasn't the silver of an old man, rather it was metallic. Not by material, but by the sheen that was reflected off the light.
He extended the mana from his armor, something he rarely, if ever did. And sure enough, the hair absorbed it. He didn't put in too much, hardly at all really. And being aware of what he might cause, Coras dropped the hair.
It touched the ground, and Coras thought another mailtrum of lighting would go off. What he got instead was a small spark that didn't do hardly anything. He stared at the hair, perhaps it needed more mana?
The hair got caught in the wind a moment later, Coras didn't chase. That was an Elven hair, and he knew where he would find an elf.
He stepped aside, then made his way back to the hospital.
When he got there, the elf was leaning against the building's outer wall. No one else stood with him. The hospital staff and patients had all apparently gone inside.
The elf stood with eyes covered by a blindfold and wore a tight black shirt that stretched over his broad back and shoulders. His strength somehow showed beyond the numerous wounds, some of which looked to be fatal. He was an elf however.
Though shorter than most warriors he'd seen, Coras wouldn't mistake his stance. A battle stance that gave the illusion of relaxation. This boy had obviously been well trained.
Coras stopped right in front of him, and for several minutes, the elf had no reaction to his presence. Coras was about to speak in order to get a conversation between them going, but the elf beat him to it.
"You're not human, are you?" the elf asked, his voice raspy and tired.
Despite exhaustion and the numerous wounds that covered his body—he seemed ready to fight if needed. Though the cast around one arm and the crunch underneath the other told a different story.
"You can tell?" Coras asked.
"You don't feel right?" The elf responded.
"Your companion ran from me the moment she saw me." Coras said, trying to keep a conversation going.
He needed information, like always. He had no desire, but the fact that he had felt emotion, true emotion because of this elf. That gave him plenty of reason to learn who he was.
"I don't blame her," the elf said. "You're unnatural, something that shouldn't exist."
"I agree. But the same should be said about you."
The elf didn't respond. Coras couldn't explain it as well as he would have earlier. The moment his eyes found the elf, the oncoming emotions gave him sense. Sense that this elf was no ordinary elf.
"Why did you come back?" The elf finally asked. "If it's money you want, I don't have any. Though I suppose I do owe you a debt, I'll try to get some if that's what you want."
Coras didn't respond at first. He had no need for money, and didn't see the need to ask for it. But he did find an advantage.
The elf had admitted he was in Coras' debt. He would treat the situation the same as the rest. Emotions clouded one's judgment. Coras had been reminded of that when he'd felt them yesterday.
A decision settled, it would be best to leave them, and come back once they had healed from the event.
Coras began walking away.
"You didn't answer my question," the elf stated.
"I am not interested in money," Coras said, not turning around. "I will, however, reserve a favor in exchange."
"What kind of favor?"
Coras turned, "The kind that I can call on at any moment. You remind me of one of my dead comrades, he was an honest man. He kept his promises. I suspect you will do the same?"
The elf didn't respond for a moment, but eventually nodded. Then walked back into the hospital.