⌘ Common ⌘ Rakahi ⌘ Euthic Sign ⌘ Grovokian ⌘
Argh! There was just too much to explain!
Navyri shook her head and let out a frustrated sigh, not at Neronin, but her own situation, seemingly more dire with each detail she realized need retelling, "I remember falling though an endless pit, nothing but talons and screeching," she looked at the wall, staring at it as the events replayed behind blue eyes, "The Great Bird - the one that pinned you and your employer ... there were more. Hundreds of thousands like it. An endless flock of great and terrible beauty. A wind that steals your breath and a fall that lasts forever."
She did not say what it was called, for she did not know its true name - The Roost. "Then," The Naer had done a double take when Nero disappeared and reappeared by the desk, first on one end of the room and then the other with a single blink. She sat straighter, "I was in a warm bed, the sheets like liquid silver. Delroth was there and he told me what to do. There was a fire that burned the room away and I walked until I saw a well."
Memories of the haunting structure flooded back and suddenly a chill ran up her spine. The words felt fat in her throat, and she had to swallow to let them out, "This place is called The Misty Miasma. It houses terrible things."
'And I'm a Naer.'
she almost said, the laugh dying in her throat, "I think Delroth knew what I would find, but it was Garizma who sacrificed me. He was in that well. An Avriel whose wings had been torn off and his wounds infected. Strips of his flesh had been peeled back. And the Shrivma..."
Her voice had taken on a threatening, terrified tone. She shook her head at the memory and rose quickly to her feet, looking around until she spotted the journal and quill in the man's lap. "Let me show you," Lowering herself before him, with careful hands asking for permission, she pulled the items towards her and with a determined expression, began to drag the quill across the page. Neronin was apprehensive in letting her touch his things, she could tell in his body language. Navyri was slow going, often ghosting the lines before putting ink to paper. Blotches of blood - dried brown and fresh red were smeared in various places to avoid and soon an image became visible. She was no artist, but the work was surprisingly accurate, if utilitarian. The short creature had slits for a nose with only black holes where its eyes should have been. It's mouth - an overly cut smile with rows of sharp teeth - grinned eerily up at the Necromancer from the textured pages, and in its clawed hands it held an eyeball in each fist. Beneath it, in clear Gravokian, Navryi labelled it.
While pushing the journal back towards him, she met his eye, "Shrivma is Evil. No good comes from it."
"Now, Garizma had been trapped in the Miasma," she said after returning to her stool, "He was the first to fail, and so he lead me to the Man in Red - to the Wings. When I opened the door, I had unleashed him from some imprisonment. I do not know what he is. Maybe another Immortal. Maybe something more."
Her hand cupped the arm that had been branded with Belaera's mark, and she held it to her torso, continuing, "Belaera said Garizma's sacrifice had been accepted. That I
had been accepted. I think Delroth knew what I would find. But I don't think he knew what would happen when I touched them." The Wings.
Neronin's inquiry had occurred to her before and she shrugged with a weak smile, "You are right, Marrow. I think he will come for them, but he hasn't. Why? Would an Immortal of Greed share if he didn't have to?"
Something was wrong with the wings. Whether it was Arithzma's conciousness or Belaera's connection with them... there was a reason Delroth didn't take them himself. Navyri had begun to look at her hands and ponder this, picking at her sharp nails when Marrow requested he inspect the wings. Immediately her attention snapped upwards. The Necromancer might as well have asked if she would be his personal slave with the look of shocked disgust that darkened her features. With a shake of her head, she was already preparing her denial as she rose to her feet. Taking a step back, she remembered how Noth had touched them in similar curiosity - and while they were sensitive
, nothing alarming had happened then. But then again... Mercy didn't strike her as a mage or
a scholar with all the armor he semed to favor. Maybe there were secrets yet to be uncovered?
Would he... try to take her wings? Steal them for the Al'Angyryl, or the city of Etzos? No signs of danger were evident in his body language, but looks were so deceiving. She watched him with suspicious eyes, "Fine. But no surprises." Navyri pointed a finger at him in warning, looking at the gaunts wearily and forced herself to remain still when he took a step closer. "And wipe your hands off better. You're about to touch a woman."
Swallowing, Navyri pushed her shoulders back and began to extend her wings.The first and only winged Naer - an anomaly to the natural order and an absolutely breathtaking
specimen. The Mistress of Wind and Shadow.