Riptide Isles
HE SAYS "OH BABY GIRL, DON'T GET CUT ON MY EDGES I'M THE KING OF EVERYTHING AND MY TONGUE IS A WEAPON" The wind howls around him, a tempest that he has to fight against; he does so admirably, with the indomitable spirit that embodies everything about him. The Isles, the one last bastion of familiarity from Helovia, are dying, or so it seems. Volterra knows now that, despite his great strength, he is powerless to stop things he loves from dying. Even he cannot rage against the end of life itself, so he's in two minds whether to attend the Isles' funeral or not. What is there to gain from seeing the final fragment of Helovia sucked into the depths? Despite his misgivings, he's there among the crowd when the water-devils settle themselves down, and when the light begins to glow from the depths of the pillars. For a moment there's a raw, gaping hole of hope in his chest - the Isles are part of Helovia, after all, so what if the key to returning there lives in these watery depths? Perhaps a portal will open, allowing him to return home, allowing him to rebuild in a land that is familiar, where he understands the flora and fauna instead of being startled by it. Perhaps this is the day when the Rift nightmare is finally over. A foolish thought, he realises. He dismisses it with a snort, and trains his eyes towards the light even as his limbs grow weary with fighting against the tide. Swimming has never been his strong suit, and there's a distinct frisson of fear in his heart as he contemplates the very realistic idea of finally running out of fight, succumbing to the sodden grave beneath him where his bones will rest for eternity upon the sea bed. No, he tells himself - this is not how he dies. Not at Kisamoa's foul hands, not today, not when there's still so much for him to accomplish. So he fights against the torrent, blowing heavily from his nostrils but never once allowing his head to duck beneath the waves; he struggles through the crowd, determination sizzling through him as he waits to see what transpires. . |
