Temporus Simia Negotium (IC Closed)

Lore World's End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
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Yumara nods in understanding and enters an almost trance like state. She would need to create as things were sacrificed. Keeping her forest in balance was priority. With her mind and eyes attuned to her forest she could see through the eyes of every creature. She could feel, taste, smell, hear, everything around them. Yet even in her trance like state she lightly grips Master’s robes.

Isaik feels it just scant nanoseconds before all hell breaks loose. The tendrils that connect him to Yumara are the only warning he gets before she snaps. The very balance that keeps her sane shattering. The hand that usually grips his robe falls to her side. She takes on her more twisted treat like appearance as she screams in a mix of rage, pain, loss… the room around them shakes violently as large cracks appear in the stone floor ceilings and walls. An explosion of power from her decimates the top of the citadel from above them. With it gone as far as the eye can see, meteors rain from the twisted fel sky. Earthquakes and fel volcanoes erupt across the land. Claiming demonic and fey alike. A massive tree, home of thousands of fey creatures is swallowed. As the earth beneath it opens is maw devouring it screams of terror and pain echo across the land.

Isaik quickly realizes that the machine that should be claiming the souls of the dead isn’t working. His Yumara stand before him her form becoming more twisted and unrecognizable with every passing second. There’s a massive knot like those seen in large trees where her chest would be. It is growing, as it grows it opens pulling in all the souls fey, and demonic alike. Looking into it one would see a sea of souls. Twisting about each other in a never ending loop of terror and pain. The cacophony of their endless screams would drive nearly all that heard it insane. Entire worlds worth of souls trapped forever in an never ending cycle of torment. A few try to break free only to be sucked back into the chaos. For the briefest of a nanosecond there’s a flash of recognition, then it is gone. Still all around them the chaos rages on.

(*meanwhile on the Legion vessel.)

Izzabelle laughs then grabs his arm and pulls him in the opposite direction. Reaching up she taps the goggles she is wearing. “I’m merely following the map of the vessel layed out in the programmed infrastructure of this device.” As the two get closer the sounds of battle could be heard growing louder with each passing moment. As they round the next corner, before them rages a battle between demons and dark fey. Neither giving an inch as they tear into each other. Blood and gore dripping down the fel steel walls as they shred one another with weapons and magic. Izzabelle turns to Sericon and sighs, “well it see…” the rest was lost as area ahead of them is suddenly gone, vaporized to nothing but microscopic particles. Where there was once dozens of demons and fey there was now nothing to see but the fel infused storms of the twisting nether. Correction there was more a massive meteor shower raining destruction down upon them. For a brief second they are suspended in the air then they fall.

Without conscious though Izzabelle switches to her aranasi form and grabs Sericon. Flying while holding Sericon was difficult. Flying while holding Sericon and dodging great balls of flaming rocks was nearly impossible. Looking down the ground below them didn’t seem to be any safer then the sky. It was like the entire thing was imploding in on itself. Izzabelle twists in the air pulling her bonded against her shooting upward she barely avoids one one the deadly meteors only to put the in the path of another one. There is no place to go this is it.

The sound of a bell can be heard and everything freezes. strange why is there a cat out here in the twisting nether. then there is nothing but silence and darkness.

(Back in the citadel.)
Isaik would find trying to Calm Yumara and bring her balance back to be impossible. As she continues to cause destruction and death, she grows stronger fueled by the souls that she is sucking into an endless void. It is here that Orion appears with both Izzabelle and Sericon. Dropping the bonded he switches to his Time Lord form and rushes in to stop Yumara before her loss of control is noticed. Orion realizes swiftly that he would need all of his power to initially get Yumara into a timeless state. Yet that would put Izzabelle in danger of being claimed by Oblivion. Still his first and foremost duty was to watch Yumara. He quickly glances at the bonded, perhaps a way, one that he doesn’t deserve. Yet? Orion knows that this choice will be wrought with peril, and there will be a time when Oblivion will claim them both. However this will also give The Bonded a few extra minutes before they are claimed. As the time magic keeping Oblivion at bay ends on Izzabelle an arc of dark energy bursts from her connecting her to Sericon. Slowly the two start to fade, flesh becoming dust then microscopic particles before becoming nothing.

Orion unshackled throws all of his power at binding Yumara, at closing the black soul sucking hole that she had opened within her. As he twists time reversing it around the raging goddess. She strikes out at him razor sharp vines flaying flesh and muscles from his bones. Leaving them hanging in bloodied strips from his nearly decimated form. With a final twist of his hand the gaping hole in Yumara’s chest closes and she collapses in a time locked state to the ground. Orion then quickly reestablished the spell on Izzabelle. Sericon would only be effected by Oblivion when it was active on his bonded.

They should be okay for a moment, he could feel Yumara raging against the bonds that held her. Still the players needed to be gathered, decisions made. With that Orion brings a sudden end to Shenanigans the five of them appear back in Isaik’s underground lair. A moment later both Jaseiah and Aeseir appear in a time locked state. Everything in the room except himself and Isaik were frozen in time. “Use your sight Dark One, for something has upset the very balance of the world around us. Until we know the cause we will not be able to correct it. Until it is corrected Yumara will remain in a death like state. Keeping her under lockdown will require much of my magic. As such Oblivion will slowly claim the bonded. I will spare as much magic as I can to keep it from happening. Still even with that I wouldn’t give them more then a few months. The Children of Salkeen are quite formidable and I’ll most likely prove useful in the battles that lay before us. They are also a bit more malleable then either of their parents.”

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Isaik felt it mere nanoseconds before it occurred… Something was horrifically wrong, it was the stunning chill of absolute nothing before a agonizing pain the dark one had only known when afflicted by his own oblivion spell! As Yumara’s hand fell to her side, Isaik clutched his own dead heart feeling the waves of agony before

There was only the barest of moments for the dark one to protect himself, a wavering shield of hideous fel and shadows concealed his form as the explosion rocked the citadel shattering its enchantments and structure to its core. Shattered pieces of the citadel fell around them as great meteors fell from a sick sky…

Isaik attempted to exert All his will power to try to balance out his ever degrading Yumara, but it was to no avail she was being wounded by something, somewhere far off yet ever connected to her. As Yumara further destabilized, Isaik was audience to a horrific vision, a cacophony of tormented souls… If this vision hadn’t been while his Yumara was degrading the dark one would have languished in the pure agony shown before him even willing to emulate such a cruel creation!

Isaik roared as he was blasted back from his attempted balancing of what was his. The dark one focused his power he would not stop to attempt reasserting the control that was needed, that was until Orion appeared… No doubt the timeless creature had sensed the wild imbalance, Isaik wondered if Orion had come to try and admonish him for his failure to keep such a deity under control…

To the Dark one’s surprise Orion said nothing, he was far to focused on the goddess spiraling wildly out of control. But he didn’t seem to have all the power available to accomplish his goal, he bound something to Sericon from Izzabelle a extension of their bond so that now Sericon would share the curse that plagued his bonded. It was instantaneous, the perfected spell of ultimate oblivion began to consume shredding the flesh and more from the bonded into nothingness… Isaik growled, he would hardly lose more minions this day, extending his own dark arm he shot dark fleshshaping energy towards the bonded… Isaik knew he could not stop the oblivion, he could hardly balance Yumara, stop the curse on the bonded and himself at the same time… The dark one would need to reach deep, consuming the very souls of the little that was left in the area around them… The dark ones form started to wither as his power was split between the two curses and the attempted balancing of a goddess.

Orion did what needed to be done, halting the progression of the unending chaos and imbalance… His magic restored to Izzabelle halting the dreaded oblivion from consuming more… Isaik turned his visage over to Yumara, his form withered quite drastically… A black rotted corpse was a scant form to begin with now Isaik stood a blackened skeletal creature like mummy… The undead flesh that sat on his bones now clung to them like shrink wrap…

Isaik shuffled slowly as he took in the vision that they were back in the current year… Had something happened in the modern day Azeroth to cause such a imbalance? The dark one reached out his clawed emancipated hand touching the nearest walls…

Isaik’s head snapped to look at Orion, his eyes so sunken they appeared nearly hollow if not for the faintest of red flicker in the black darkness… The dark one only gave a hissing groan to Orion as a response, he needed to feed and recover his strength… The dark one could leech the life from the very earth around him, but such actions would be a catastrophe to the area of Arathi… The underground domain would be revealed… Instead Isaik reacted into Skalaz’s alchemic tunnels clawing and reaching for each collection of souls the goblin owned… In mere moments fledging homunculi and crystals filled with screaming trapped souls were leeched dry… Still it was only a meager meal, only slightly returning the glow to the dark one…

Now he could focus… A roar of screams and calls came to the dark one, these originating only from his own minions… The dark one had missed much, his dark pyramid of power in disorder as the peak had been missing… He heard Skalaz speaking of trying to retain order, the world had gone mad in the dark ones absence and retaining what they had, had been a great challenge… From Salkeen, Isaik felt only rage and accusations… The Demon Lord had noticed the absences of his own blood… From Drednautt he heard commands as the orc held up a defense against pouring undead…

The undead scourge has returned and with a wild savagery, uncontrollable… Isaik searched through several minions embedded in the great factions that fought over this world… The Banshee Queen having abandoned the Horde, traveled north and destroyed the boundaries between Azeroth and the Shadowlands…

Isaik turned his skeletal visage to Orion, “Death… Death has come to this world, unimpeded by the veil that once isolated it… The undead rise with a vigor even more violent than the days of the Lich King…”

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(Azeroth shortly after the Helm of Domination was destroyed.)

Myrandah stood with other of her order outside of Stormwind Cathedral. She had been searching for Yumara and Izzabelle, when she received an urgent summons to return to Stormwind. The wretched leader of the Horde has abandoned them before wiping the floor with the Lick King and breaking his crown. Now the scourge was running amuck across Azeroth. Myrandah lifts her hammer and send it sailing into a crowd of ghouls. As it strikes it explodes into a blast of holy fire. The blast shreds over a dozen of the horrific shambling mindless dead. Dead rotting flesh rains down upon the ground, as her hammer reappears in her hand. Raising it she calls forth the power of the light to remove the dreaded curse from a young woman rushing towards them. While capable of removing the death curse from those newly effected. Those of whom the curse had progressed needed the help of the Argent Healers. Yet there were those beyond help. Men, women, children all lost to this curse. Myrandah’s faith in the light had recently been greatly shaken. She wanted to run to Lizzie and make sure that she was okay. As she calls down a bolt of holy power she can only pray to the light that she is.

Elesande stood outside the Mage tower, which had become a safe haven for those in that district. The argent healer stood just within the doorway protected by the prismatic barrier she and others had created. Speaking a few she send a blast of fire towards a ghoul that is trying to attack a mother. She is desperately dragging her two children towards the safely of the tower. The blast of fire takes out one of its legs. Severely burning the other and the lower half of its torso sending it crumbling to the ground. Had it been in possession of half a brain it would of stopped. Yet it continued to claw its was after its attended victims. Elasande casts slow followed by an arcane blast that disintegrates the foul things head. The the headless, one legged, horrifically burnt body becomes still. The smell makes Elasande gag as the woman makes it to the tower, weeping at the loss of her husband. Dropping the barrier they quickly allow the three through, before it snaps back into place. She turns Bach just in time to see one of those monstrosities explodes infecting about half a dozen residents. She hopes they can reach the Healers in time, she was growing weary of killing her friends and neighbors.

Jeheami stood within a circle of power located in the center of her grove. A grove that was protected by the elements. For it was a place of learning. She taught a very specific type of healing one that very few possessed. While many were capable of healing flesh. Healing the land was entirely different. Those gifted with such power needed to be taught to control it. Just as their power could heal it could also destroy. One of her most promising students, happened to be the daughter of a close friend. Little Lizzie wasn’t quite human. Jeheami was in the middle of a training session when the elementals of wind whispered of the approaching scourge. Earthen giants erupted from the earth forming a barrier. Before the stand elementals of flame.

Jeheami watches through the eyes of the elemental as the army of the dead crests the hill. With an horrific shriek that sends the birds scattering isn’t the skies, they come rushing towards them. Earthen Giants heft mighty boulders sending them sailing into hapless groups of brainless monstrosities. Cones of burning embers engulf those not smashed by the massive stone. Those that make it through that line of defense find themselves met with a storm of vengeance, lightening shredding their animated corpses. Yet they still come, like an open gate they continue to pour down over the hill forcing the elementals back inch by precious inch. Ancients corrupted by the necrotic magic of death appear. Their blackened roots burrowing beneath the ground. Poisoning it, killing it, before bursting forth wrapping around Giants made of stone and earth, before ripping them apart. Twisted skeletal necromancers using icy death magic start claiming the lives of the groves fiery protectors. Jeheami looks behind her to where the student had gathered. The elder ones, weapons drawn, magic spells on the tips of their tongue, stand ready to defend the younger. Jeheami swears as long as she stands this grove will not fall.

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Faendrel lets out a sharp yelp of surprise as the ship rock violently sending her tumbling from the cursed elf. If he was even an elf, the last thing she remembered was horrific agony followed by a burning sensation in her lungs. Brief moments later she had been claimed by blessed darkness. As she tries to fight her way to her feet she notices that her body seems off. Looking down she expects to see most of her lower half still a bloody wreckage of bone, muscle, sinew and flesh. Instead she sees that she has mostly healed yet her form is now closer to that of her wretched father.

The ships lurches again as an explosion is heard from above. The heavy ropes holding back large 100 gallon barrels of wine, mead and beer fray and snap beneath the pressure. Faendrel barely manages to dodge out of the way before one of those heavy casks crashes into the wall where she had been but scant seconds ago. It strikes with enough pressure to shower her in honey mead and splinters. Cursing her horrible luck she quickly calls her void walker from the depths of the twisting nether. She quickly scans the area for both the Elf and the Orc she had cursed. She is about to move with the door leading down into the cargo area they are in suddenly comes flying at her, followed by what remained of a Stormwind naval soldier.

Standing in the door way was a large strong Kultirin woman. Faendral couldn’t tell if the gun she held was stand alone or built on as part of her arm. As it was most of her arm an part of her face seemed to be made of metal wires and gears. She looks past Faendrel like one would common vermin not worth their time. Her one good eye falls on the Monk “come let us get back to the Quell before someone sneezes on Miya and she blows this whole vessel up.”

(minutes earlier.)
Valenae watched using her telescopic vision to scout the ship ahead of them. The sole remnants of a fleet that had been claimed by the unforgiving sea. She can see how they move nervously across the ships deck like frightened rats. Yet from what she can see the ship seems to be strangely devoid of the retched creatures. She motions for those of the crew who are standing ready at the cannons. They had received a message from a contact that sent them after this vessel to pick up some of its cargo. Still recovering from the loss of the fleet those fools didn’t even notice death was approaching. Silent death hidden behind a veil of fog and invisibility.

As soon as they are in range Valenae’s hand drops signaling the cannoneers to fire. Screams of rage, pain and surprise fill the sky as cannon fire rips along the side of the Alliance vessel. Valenae watches as they scatter to about to form a counter attack. Moments later the Crimson Quell comes under fire as the Alliance rally firing their large turret cannon at them. The blast strikes the hull of the Quell and would have most likely shattered it. Yet it had been heavily augmented with wood as strong ad adamite and magic. Sadly the some of the crew weren’t quite as strongly built as the hull and were now decorating the ship as bloody bits and pieces. Pulling up her gun she slowly brings it up aiming it towards the turret. She moves it slowly until she sees the soldier operating it come within her vision. Smiling she pulls the trigger, the man doesn’t even have time to even blink before his brains find themselves on the outside of his skull dripping down the walls of the turret. Motioning again a second round of cannon fire can be heard as the crew readies itself to board the Alliance vessel.

(I will try and write more, but I am not sure when it will happen. Blizzard ruining my favorite race left me really disillusioned about the game. Now I find writing mostly impossible at times.)

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She moves in a dreamlike state stuck between consciousness and unconsciousness. Her focus was hurt, damaged, she was in pain and calling out for help. Perhaps in some reality someone might have a tinge of mercy for those wretched fools who thought to harm what was hers. Because in no reality would Jericha show such mercy. As she moves away from the wrecked door of the recovery chamber. Thousands of tendril and tentacles of void and fel move around her like a sea of living vines. The lash out at any that come close, burning flesh, corrupting it before either crushing or shredding them in her hate filled haze.

Had he been but a millisecond earlier his command would have reached his Void Witch before she vanished into the void portal she had summoned. It would seem that she hadn’t actually gone that far. Still aboard the vessel in the dungeons fast approaching the area where they tortured and punished prisoners.

Jericha her mind still seething with the fury of a thousand suns vanishes through the twisting black portal that she called into existence before her. Void and fel still whip around her like a storm of vengeance as she glides down the fel steel halls. Those not intelligent enough to flee the coming storm, were swept up and torn apart. Limbs ripped from torsos, flesh shredded like paper, bones crushed and splintered, organs pulverized. As the door comes comes into view Jericha’s rage hone. in on it. It also hones in on the two felguards that stand on either side of it. Seeing her they quickly stand to attention every demon under Lord Salkeen’s command recognized their Lord’s Void Witch. Unfortunately recognition wasn’t going to save them.

As she glides down the corridor Jericha form slowly mutates to that of a Shivarra. Larger, twisted and tainted by the void, Long void tentacles twist and dance behind her back as she moves ever closer. She stops and stares at the two standing guard an angry hiss emits from her before the tentacles on her back whip forward. The felguard to the right of the door barely has a moment to even draw its next breath before it is dismembered. The one on the left swiftly lifts its massive two handed sword only to discover it isn’t there. It can feel its arms being crushed against his sides as it is lifted up off of the floor. The tentacle holding the sword beheads the helpless wretch. As the demonic skull rolls down the wall and bounces across the floor Jericha drops the lifeless remains to the ground.

Within the room a fel Blood Elf laughed as he tortured Suzuna, her body twitching uncontrollably and she opens her mouth in silent screams of agony. As he brings his blade down to carve away more flesh the door of the room bursts inward. On second his blade is touching the tortured Draenei’s skin a nano second later they are pinned to the felsteel wall with a blade through their head. Their body twitching and jerking about in a morbid death dance. The rest of rooms occupants minus the prisoners being tortured, either rush to get out the door, or to attack her. Jericha hardly notices in her dreamlike state the spell and blades tearing at her flesh as she moves towards Suzuna. Suzuna who recognizes that she is now safe let’s her mind shut down. As she goes limp Jericha’s snaps. An explosion of fel and void erupt from her disintegrating those fools close to her. Reaching Suzuna Jericha disassembled the machine that was driven through her, carefully removing it. Lifting the broken form into her arms like she would a child she sends healing magic flowing down into her.

She turns to leave when a rancid pungent smell grabs her attention. Looking towards the far end of the room she sees it, she know what it is. Nedde or at least something that might of once held her form hangs from a massive hook. Her body or what remains of it is dripping foul smelling ichor all over the floor. Noxious smelling gas is pouring out from around her body. Those demons closest to her don’t even realize that they are also decaying and rotting. “FOOLS!” Jericha screams in fury. “You bring death and disease onto your Lords vessel.” Sealing off the room she sends it into the void before grabbing Yenme and vanishing through a portal with her and Suzuna. Those trapped forever in that room would know an eternity of pain and suffering as their bodies rot and decay only to be reborn fresh just as their life fades.

The portal open dumping Jericha, Suzuna and Yenme out onto the dieting red earth. An Orc seeing their unconscious forms strike the ground rushes forward shouting out orders as she moves. “You, take the focus and her sister to the healing tent. You, send word to our Lord that his Queen is down here.” Summoning an orc Mage Kasakura has him create a field of invisibility around Jericha so that she will not be seen. Assigning those she trusts most to guard the area she returns to work.

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Ahcirej had been wandering aimlessly about the Kiln, for days? Weeks? Years? An eternity? She no longer knew. She just faded in and out of existence as she moved like a ghost from floor to floor. Like a thought unhinged being tossed about by the wind. It is during a moment when she is floating near the fel star at the center that Ahcirej decides to return to Azeroth. To return to the underground fortress of the one known as Isaik. The Master in the shadows that controlled and moved most of the pieces in this game. If one wished to refer to it as a game that is. So back to the underground fortress she went. We’re like on the Kiln she first wondered about aimlessly. With no direction, no connection she was quickly fading into nothing.

That changed a bit with an encounter with one of the many goblins that lived and worked deep down in the depths of the earth. One side of his face was disfigured and burned. A hole was all that remained from where it’s ear use to be. He was talking to a few other gobs about his scars, about how he and many other where saved from certain death by a woman that glowed with the light of the sun. “Bout to be snatched up by the void we were.” It took Ahcirej but a moment to realize that standing before her was one of the Goblins from the mock battle that had taken place here when Salkeen, (just thinking of him still filled her with negative emotions.) brought her here to have a new body fashioned for her. A body made by one called Drednautt. A powerful Orc, yet not an Orc, something more. The body created for her had mean a masterpiece of mechanical ingenuity. From the advanced weapon systems down to the tiniest wires and gears. It was a marvel to behold, she wonders what became of it after it was Severely damaged during the battle on that red planet. With that thought Ahcirej now had thought and purpose. She now sets out with a destination in mind, find Drednautt and discover what became of the Mecha body he had created for her.

It didn’t take long for Ahcirej to find both her Mechanical body and the one called Drednautt. Wasting no time she shunts into her Mecha form. It takes her a little longer then normal to connect properly. She had been unbound for such a time that forming connections was proving to be difficult. At first she is unable to move, see, hear, speak. As she connects to each of the systems and brings them online, everything starts returning to her. Before long she is moving about like she has never been separated from the body. Having nothing else to do she takes to helping the Goblins and Drednautt protect the underground fortress from those fools stupid enough to wonder to close. It was during this time that all hell broke loose. While deep beneath the ground they weren’t totally prepared for what was about to be unleashed by some unhinged nut job (no she wasn’t referring to her once other half.) on the surface. The machine had been broken, life and death the veil separating them had been destroyed. The dead fell upon the living like a great plague wiping out all in its path.

Ahcirej drops from the air landing before a large battle tank and a squadron of Goblins that had just taken massive damage. A flesh construct along with ghouls, wraiths and banshees were tearing into what remained of them. Landing amidst them she blasts the dead away with an explosion of holy power. Obliterating most of the lesser dead, while healing those goblins that still lived. She quickly brings up a shield of holy energy around herself and the survivors. Surveying the damage to the tank she quickly tries to salvage what little that she can. She manages to get one of the guns back online along with fixing the catapult like system that would allow for bombs to be thrown. “The shield will be coming down soon be ready.” Ahcirej explains as the dead throw themselves at her shield.

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It was as if for a nano second time froze. Then the world crumbled into the depths of chaos.

“Damn you you meddling fool.” Izzabelle screams in anger, despair and heartbreak. Driving a familiar blade through Orion’s heart arc brutally twisting it. “I unbind you from time. May your very existence and all things bound to it be undone.” She shrieks as she looks back over at her bonded whom this wretched feline had cursed. Izzabelle watches as the being before her starts to crumble and dissipate into nothingness. As he does she stumble her own form starting to disintegrate into wisps that vanish into the air forever lost. She stumbles towards Sericon reaching her hand towards his face. Her fingers outstretched to caress his face, yet are gone before she can touch him. She looks at him tears vanishing as they slip from her eyes and then she is gone.

As the magic binding Yumara fails she wakes up with a vengeance. There’s a sudden explosion from where she was laying trapped in time mere seconds before. Now Isaik’s underground lair was rocked to its very foundations. As billions of angry vengeful souls were suddenly freed. They didn’t know friend from enemy, good from bad. They ripped through the lair shredding both flesh, bone, muscles and organs. As well as minds, magic, emotions and spirits. Humans, elves, Goblins, elemental, troggs, etc, nothing was same as they rampaged out of control. Along with the release of the souls came an eruption of dark twisted forests throughout the great dark metropolis. Dark twisted hateful creatures of fey drug themselves from the swirling darkness. Their milky white blind eyes giving them a nightmarish quality as they claw and drag their horrific misshapen forms across the ground.

Worlds away Salkeen mind is suddenly bombarded with images of his Void Witch. He sees her vanishing out the door. Then she is back in the healing chamber, before he is holding her using his wings to hide her broken form. He’s burning away her tears, they are fighting Drednautt, Reavrix. They are in her house in the Ghostlands, being attacked by Ebony. She is bound to the wall by his fel chains her head falling to the side as her neck snaps. He shapes her a new form using souls as she lets her other half escape. She slams into him as she is thrown like a doll. Grabbing his mask she rips it off and presses her mouth to his. “You will lose this day Lord Salkeen, but I will not let you lose to them.” Then he is walking into a seedy joint one that are only occupied by the darkest of beings. He doesn’t need to search the one who had reached out to him was sitting at a table by herself. The amount of void corruption pouring off of her enough to keep even the most reckless at bay. She looks up at him one whole side of her face covered in a magic binding bandage.

One moment everything is in chaos, the world around them on the brink of annihilation. Then there’s a deafening pop, followed by a silence that was nearly deafening. The destruction that had been just mere moment before was now gone. It was as if it had never happened. The vengeful souls, the twisted fey, the dark fey forests, all gone as though they had never existed. Within Isaik’s mind the place Yumara once occupied was void. It wasn’t like she was gone, it was like she had never been there. Yet he knew that wasn’t true as his mind and sight exists outside of the flow of time. He remembers her being there although she is now gone.

Lord Salkeen would feel that something was missing but he wouldn’t know what. Within the void both Ebony and his tower dissipate into oblivion. Without Orion, Yumara would never have been saved. Without Yumara Jericha was killed when Ebony had used her to try summon forth a Void Lord. Not only was Jericha destroyed but both Ebony and his tower were eradicated as well. Ahcirej, Jaseiah, everyone connected to them in some form were now gone. As for Yumara only reminder he has of her existence outside of his mind is a few leaves scattered across his dark tome. But like everything connected to his Yumara they too soon vanish

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