Energy flows through his body in a wash of certainty and hope. The gem that's filled the hollow of his chest feels warm. He feels capable for the first time since darkness fell over Erdrea. Eleven eyes the shifting line of their opposition and the few familiar faces he finds there with an ache of regret, but neither can those who have struggled to resist give themselves over here.
Accustomed to having a sword in hand, he's never fought purely with magic before. Others have, he can't help but notice as power manifests and flares as the clash begins in earnest. But where his heart yearns to join them, Eleven finds himself considering their means of escape. He has experience with teleportation spells and the sooner they're out of the cave, the less people are injured.
But standing there, watching a few others begin with preparations then eyeing the oppressive approach of those under the sway of darkness, Eleven's hands fold together to channel the warm touch of familiar power spreading through his chest. Peace steals through his mind, and with it a holy will to ward off the dark. He smiles to himself and bows his head.
This time, I'm going to hold back the dark.
Runic light weaves a band around the ritual space. Eleven stands at the center of it, hands clasped and losing awareness of his surroundings.
ii. paradise
The beauty of the valley brings tears to his eyes. Light gleams pure and unhindered through the hills over a spread of life more riotous and abundant than anything he's seen in recent memory.
All at once, the energy that had bolstered him leaves his limbs and Eleven drops into the lush grass of the flower field, blades tickling at the underside of his palms. He sits back on his knees and breathes. The air is sweet with earth and flowers and utterly tantalizing.
Eleven | Pleroma
Energy flows through his body in a wash of certainty and hope. The gem that's filled the hollow of his chest feels warm. He feels capable for the first time since darkness fell over Erdrea. Eleven eyes the shifting line of their opposition and the few familiar faces he finds there with an ache of regret, but neither can those who have struggled to resist give themselves over here.
Accustomed to having a sword in hand, he's never fought purely with magic before. Others have, he can't help but notice as power manifests and flares as the clash begins in earnest. But where his heart yearns to join them, Eleven finds himself considering their means of escape. He has experience with teleportation spells and the sooner they're out of the cave, the less people are injured.
But standing there, watching a few others begin with preparations then eyeing the oppressive approach of those under the sway of darkness, Eleven's hands fold together to channel the warm touch of familiar power spreading through his chest. Peace steals through his mind, and with it a holy will to ward off the dark. He smiles to himself and bows his head.
This time, I'm going to hold back the dark.
Runic light weaves a band around the ritual space. Eleven stands at the center of it, hands clasped and losing awareness of his surroundings.
ii. paradise
The beauty of the valley brings tears to his eyes. Light gleams pure and unhindered through the hills over a spread of life more riotous and abundant than anything he's seen in recent memory.
All at once, the energy that had bolstered him leaves his limbs and Eleven drops into the lush grass of the flower field, blades tickling at the underside of his palms. He sits back on his knees and breathes. The air is sweet with earth and flowers and utterly tantalizing.
"Goddess, tell me this isn't a dream."