Welcome to Adventu, your final fantasy rp haven. adventu focuses on both canon and original characters from different worlds and timelines that have all been pulled to the world of zephon: a familiar final fantasy-styled land where all adventurers will fight, explore, and make new personal connections.
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year 5, quarter 3
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I've been screaming out a language that I never knew EXISTED before
Ashe inhaled sharply as a plank fell away that she had almost put her full weight on. It seemed it was necessary to move faster, but rushing the woman in front of her also seemed an ill idea. Instead she concentrated on the conversation at hand which indeed was enough to distract her for the time being. "I know not," Ashe replied her voice even and with a tint of anger, "Her message was not clear, yet still." she paused as the faded broken message replayed in her mind. "There was a sense of calm in her words that did not ally themselves with evil doings, so I believe that her summoning were truthful even if the monk was deceitful." Ashe stayed silent after this once more focusing on crossing the bridge. She didn't care if Cissnei or Arc believed her vision, or their own goals as long as they did not interfere with hers.
Then the bridge began to swing with the violent tremors of the earth. She put her faith in the slowly fraying rope to handle the first tremor, but from the sound behind her, she knew that there wasn't much time to falter. The boards cracked and threatened to plunge her as she scampered across the bridge trying to reach ground before the whole thing unraveled. Annoyance at the vapid advice from Cissnei who had already made landfall gave Ashe the extra amount of spite to push off from the warbling bridge and hit the ground hard as her balance was misplaced due to the shuttering of the world. Still, she quickly turned trying to see through the storm of debris and falling rock and dust. Ashe held out her arm to where she had jumped from the bridge. "Take my hand," she yelled hoping the boy wouldn't need it and that he'd make it by himself. What other trials had this monk set in her tomb to torment her saviors?
The cave gives one final crack and the whole of it collapses in a rush of stone and debris. The nearby tunnel is unaffected. Golden runes line the walls, pulsing a weak glow. The room behind them crumbles into a pile of heavy debris, clouding the two of them in ashen dust. The tunnel falls to utter darkness. The lines of runes are all that show the way.
The runes shine brighter the deeper they travel, and as the tunnel descends, magic rises to greet them like a shimmering mist. With it comes a familiar sense of calm and the warrior’s watching eyes. The magic is tinged with something urgent now. Though the presence cannot yet speak, it urges them forward wordlessly.
The tunnel opens into a wide cavern. Their footsteps echo into its space followed by a rush of flame. Lanterns light before them, lining the path down an ancient stone staircase. At the room’s center, a crystal hovers above its alter. It lights the room in an ethereal golden light.
For the first time in centuries, the Chamber of Earth has opened.
Two statues of the Warrior stand vigil at the altar’s base. Each holds a relic of the monk’s life. On one side lies a silken sash imbued with magic. Any who wear it find themselves quick on their feet and not easily tired. On the other side rests a pair of silver knuckles. When worn, it guides the user in unarmed combat as though channeled by the spirit of the monk itself.
Steps ascend towards the altar’s center. The crystal hovers above it, quite and waiting. Lines of black cloud its surface in deathly spirals. All is calm. The spirits wait.
Cissnei quietly let Amalia’s word sink in. Amalia had been called upon, and Cissnei could not help but feel a little jealous. To be needed by someone higher than you and given a purpose…well that provided a form of satisfaction that Cissnei had not seen in a while. And Amalia was aggravated by such callings. Did she not like to be bothered? Did she have something better to do? All these thoughts were kept in Cissnei’s chest. And she only gave a small confirming, “Mm,” to show she was listening. It was only a short few seconds after she reached the other side that the float ability wore off and her boots touched solid ground again. It was a very grounding and reassuring feeling.
She watched as Ashe came in for a hard landing, then turn to reach out for the boy. Cissnei felt her heart in her throat and she was ready to grab at clothing or a waist in case they needed someone with steadier footing to reel them in. Once the other two were safely across and their situation under control, Cissnei braced herself. The earth gave another rumble and Cissnei mentally dared it to swallow her. Instead, it swallowed up the area on the other side of the bridge. Cissnei knew it didn’t have the stones to do her in yet. She brushed the back of her hand along the material of her suit to dust herself off once more. If anything, it would make her waste money on dry cleaning.
She did not wait for the other two to recover as she headed down the new tunnel before them, using her crystal as light. There just was not time to wait around anymore. Soon she was greeted by golden light. The soft glow was welcoming and Cissnei felt herself drawn forward.
Breathless. Cissnei was simply breathless at the ancient sight she saw. The presence lit the room for them and there she saw the crystal and the treasures laid bare. Cissnei felt drawn to take the treasures but she stopped herself. She remembered those movies where the archeologist adventurer came upon treasures in ancient ruins. There was always a catch or else they were running for their lives. The issue here was there was no where to run too. She doubted that this would end like the movie if the wrong step was made.
Practicing restraint, she climbed to the altar and knelt before the crystal above it. The spirit touched her once before, perhaps she could ask for permission or guidance. Despite the danger and chaos, she tried her best to take a few slow, deep breaths and eased her muscles. With concentrated effort, she cleared her mind to try to accept any guidance provided by the crystal.
It must have worked. She could feel the overwhelming power of the crystal and she nearly reeled back. Her body felt suddenly hot from the spirit’s warm invitation, but she grasped at her threads of concentration and tried to imagine her mortal body separate from her mind. She tried to hold on as long as she could to try to receive the spirit’s message. But it was the sudden cold sting of darkness that struck her, and she gasped at the feeling in her heart. Unsure if it was the sudden lapse of concentration or her inability to hold the energy, she heard only the distant warning to not touch the crystal. Or maybe it was simply the impression and not words at all.
She, herself, was out of constitution. She pulled away from the energy to try to recompose herself. She felt beads of sweat roll down her cheek and she wiped her brow. “Don’t…” She panted softly, not realizing she was out of breath. “touch…” The warning was not coming out fully as she recomposed herself.
I've been screaming out a language that I never knew EXISTED before
Ashe exhaled the breath she didn't know she was holding as Arc landed near her side as the bridge gave way. She stood brushing the dirt, soot, and debris off her as she looked out at the dark chasm that expanded before her now. Perhaps that how it should have been all along after whoever built this place had hidden their secrets here. Why invite room for unwanted visitors? Ashe shook her head and took a couple steps back as the sound of the crashing ravine below still filled her with some dread as she imagined her body slamming against the likely instantly fatal rocks below
Turning round she saw Cissnei had already made headway through the tunnel and Ashe quickly followed behind. She watched as the etchings on the wall ebbed and flowed down the hallway, but they made no sense to her as to what they meant. At least it was a light to illuminate any more death traps this monk had decided where needed for her tomb. Still nothing else seemed to ask for her life as she continued down the hall into the well lit room at its end.
Ashe was almost instantly mesmerized by the crystal on the altar. It couldn't be. She had accepted the fact that this was not Ivalice, but it just was too much a coincidence. It looked so much like what she had dreamed the Sun Cryst would be. Perhaps it was not, but perhaps this world had it's own equivalent for nethicite. She took each step with purpose as she gazed upon the golden crystal passing by the statues with their gifts lay present. Cissnei was once again praying, and Ashe stood next to her as she reached out for the crystal. Power. Answers. It had to lie within this object. The warning was ignored as Ashe reached out and grasped the crystal in her hand staring into its tainted golden light.
Watching the path ahead Arc followed after the other two, he remained otherwise quiet as they came to the bridge. When crossing over, he rushed quickly when Cissnei called, not even taking taking notice of the hand as he jumped after Amalia also over. Though, it seemed both the women had reached out to him to help him across too. Seeing the path behind them now completely and utterly unavailable was a bit disheartening, he hoped the path ahead allowed a way out of here, otherwise he could still teleport everyone back to the entrance. But thinking how there were enemies back there, it was possibly not a good idea to teleport right in the middle of them if they were also at the entrance itself.
Watching the walls as they moved on, runes shined and he wondered if the torch was still needed, but carried it with him regardless. He was still a bit out of breath from the sudden rush on the bridge, so walked a bit slower after the other two. Seeing how Cissnei moved on immediately and Amalia moved quickly after her. While moving he pondered on whatever came of those behind them and the other tombs. It seemed this entire place was on its way of collapsing thus far, although the current tunnel and the cavern they found right after seemed much sturdier.
Seeing the lanterns lit up, Arc wondered what kind of magic could be behind them. However, his attention was quickly pulled towards the crystal. Seeing it hover there above the altar, it fascinated the young Warrior of Light as he thought back of the Crystals on his home world. Pulling his eyes away from the crystal to check on his companions, it seemed Cissnei was praying by the altar while Amalia had come to stand by her. The youngster remained near the entrance as his eyes went back to the crystal, he wondered if there was a way to check whether it still contained power or if it was being drained by outside forces like back home. Back then the crystal had even spoken to them, so perhaps this one did too? Noting he had been having his mouth open in a gasp of amazement, he shut his jaws forcefully and started to take in the rest of the room. Two statues seemed to stand at the altar's base, but beyond that and the altar there didn't seem to be much to go off on.
Looking back up at his companions, Arc waited silently, maybe one of them has been given an answer? He recalled how Amalia seemed to be in search of answers and the crystals back home spoke directly into their thoughts, so if this one spoke, perhaps it would speak to the two ladies right now.
murk™ WORDS: 468 TAG: DM, @blacksuit, @ashe NOTE: Sorry for the slowness, life's not been too kind.
Ashe’s touch is sealed against the crystal. A great power rushes into her like the burn of electricity flooding her veins. Darkness sparks around her fingers, her blood sears with magic, and then her vision goes black.
For what feels like seconds or an eternity, Ashe sees nothing, hears nothing, feels nothing. It is as though she floats within a dark void waiting for release. What might be a voice or merely a gust of wind echoes as though on the whisper of a breath growing louder. When it finally reaches her, the words are clear. ’Why do you fight?’
First comes the heat and the glare of sunlight. Her boots ground on smooth stone. The whispers drown in the idle chatter of a city and then the vision spreads from her feet.
Street vendors call from their carts laden with silks and spices. It weighs on the air until it’s nearly intoxicating. The people do not notice her. Instead, they consider the offerings of the bazaar, pushing past her with hardly a glance. The sun beats a heavy rhythm until, of course, it doesn’t.
The sky throbs with the hum of clanking gears and engines. Above, a fleet of airships block a graying sky. They hover above the city as though lying in wait. The people continue their business as though oblivious of the fates that await them. Behind her, a voice.
”You seek power.” A shadowed form stands vigil behind her. Its eyes burn from a featureless shroud, watching unblinkingly. ”Strength. Revenge. That which is yours by right.”
A soft rustle of wind. A shadow appears beside her then another then another until they surround her, closing in. Whispers echo from within them, staggered and formless. ’We can grant it. We can grant it. We can grant it.’
Before her, the shadows part to reveal the street beyond. The people have gone, leaving in their place abandoned carts and doors and windows, and at the end, a golden gleam. The crystal. It hovers in place, shining as though lit by the sun.
A weight falls into her hand. The treaty blade. The shadows whisper their echoed call.
’Take it. Take it. Take it.
Outside her mind, Ashe’s body stiffens and jerks at the crystal’s power. For a moment, she seems held in place as though electrified, and then she is thrown back ten feet from the altar’s steps. Her head cracks against the ground, and she lays there lifeless, eyes closed and twitching faintly. The crystal’s shadows swirl as though agitated by some great power. They gather at the top and leak into the air like a miasma.
The darkness forms into a nearly human shape -- featureless , translucent, and black. It swirls above the crystal like a shadow before lashing at the remaining two with magic striking like a whip. The crystal's light is dulled with gray, and the cave's candles flicker their chilled power. From the shadows echo the same words from Ashe’s mind.
’Power. Strength. We can grant it. Take it. Take it. Take it.’
Cissnei had not been able to fully grasp what Amalia was doing as she felt extremely exhausted. She ran a sleeve over her forehead as she felt her heart drop into her stomach. Amalia reached for the crystal. “No!” She tried to warn again, but before she could even move to stop Amalia it was too late. The stubborn woman had seemed entranced by the crystal’s light. She gave an aggravated growl. Yet, her aggravation broken into stunned surprised as Amalia’s body becomes rigid and then was easily thrown, as if discarded by the thing that tainted the crystal.
The atmosphere became overbearing and she quickly jumped backwards to dodge out of the way of the shadow’s attack. Ochre eyes focus on the now formed entity above the crystal. Tall, dark, and handsome. And full of itself. Aren’t they always? But the words that it echoed seemed to amuse Cissnei. Then finally, she laughed at it. Perhaps, the Headstone forest broke something inside her that made her laugh at the shadow now. She pressed her knuckles to her lips as she tilted her chin down to stop her chuckling.
“POWER?! STRENGTH?!” She stood up straighter and spoke loudly to draw its attention to her and not Arc. She raised a brow at it and angled her body to watch it wearily. “I’ve seen both sides of the coin. I’ve seen power and strength build great things and provide for the people. I’ve seen it aid in technological advancement and modernize civilizations.” She eyed the sash on the pedestal for a moment. “But I have also seen it abused. Watched as it brought on paranoia. Watched as one was never satisfied with it. Watched how it destroyed and ruined. I have SEEN what it can do, and I know it is not what I desire.”
She took the sash from the pedestal and prayed to what was left of the goddess here that it would help her in this fight. And even though this was a different world, she prayed to Minerva for aid she knew that she did not deserve. With a quick movement, she knotted the sash on her waist. The shuriken was suddenly summoned to her hand and squared off against the shadow. “Please don’t make me laugh. Devils don’t make bargains with the shadows.” Her voice had a sudden hard edge to it. For a moment, she thought she sounded like Rufus. Minerva forbid.
The belt suddenly loosened her fatigue and she felt energized once more. A soft blue film fell over her for a second and faded as she summoned a magical barrier to protect herself. She eyed the silver knuckles as well, but she doubted she had time to reach them just yet. Instead, she lunged to the side and attacked. Her shuriken hummed through the air at the entity.
I've been screaming out a language that I never knew EXISTED before
One moment there was light and warmth as Ashe held crystal aloft. Then there was nothing. There was nothing. No sight. No sound. No sensation. Only thought. Only emotion. The void called to her, and she was unable to speak her answers to it. Whispers of power. Warnings that felt like faded memories. Still once voice cut through just enough. "Why do you fight?" IT knew already didn't it. Had she not confessed her heart's desires already. She had to make things right, to avenge those who could not avenge themselves, to right the wrongs done to her. The fire in her heart would never be quenched until she had saved her people. Dalmasca is far away now, and history etches a different chapter for you now. It was her voice? Was she talking to herself or had she and the darkness become one. She didn't know.
Bright warmth. Ashe held her hands against her face as the sun did its best to make its presence known as the heat pressed against her in a familiar comforting way. Why? The voice echoed once more as she came to her senses. There were people here, so many people. The smell of spices wafted through the air, as did the pungent smell of sweat as people made their livings in the booths around her. Ashe knew these smells, this feeling as the warm desert wind. As her eyes grew accustomed to the brightness, she lowered her arms only for tears to form in her eyes as she looked into the street.
"Rabanastre?"
No one turned there head or batted an eye at their Princess standing in the middle of the street. She could not find blame for this. She had made a public appearance since her royal wedding, and then been presumed dead for these last few years. Ashe would amend this she promised when the seat of Dalmasca returned to its rightful owner. Her people would know her as their Queen.
Ashe walked slowly through the crowd . Perhaps she would be so lucky as to run into Vaan or Penelo running amok in the wild exchange of the bazaar or find Fran and Balthier haggling shady trades in the lesser. Perhaps Basche would find her and tell her of the current dealings in the Kingdom. Her friends. They had to be here right?
Ashe looked up as dark shadow crosses over her. Her heart sank as warship upon warship dotted the air coming in from both the north and the south Rozzaria vs Archadia with Dalmasca being their playground. She needed to find Balthier. They had to get up into the fray. Ashe just needed to have Al-Cid find a way to stay Rozzaria's hand and for Larsa to stay Archadia's for just long enough for her to do something. But they weren't here. What could she do. She needed to evacuate the city and began to run towards the people yelling, but no one would turn to face her.
"You seek power. Strength. Revenge. That which is yours by right.”
Ashe swung on the spot as the figure materialized in front of her. She squeezed her hand to only feel her own flesh being clawed at. Hadn't she just been holding her sword? She turned as additional figures popped up around her all chanting the same mantra. The Occuria, but different. Their forms shrouded differently than her memory recalled. She didn't have time to even begin to ask when they formed and she saw the glow.
"The Sun Cryst?" she asked more to herself than the dark beings around her. She felt the Treaty Blade appear in her hand. A covenant to claim what was rightfully hers. Ashe held the blade aloft as she walked towards the crystal ready to take what she needed. What was hers by birthright. The Occuria's message ringing in her head.
"Seek you the Sun Cryst, slumb'ring star In tower on distant shore it dreams.
The words gave her pause as she held the blade ready to strike into the crystal. This was Rabanastre not a distant shore or a tower. She blinked again. She knew this crystal. It was rather small for something she would be able to cut trinkets from. Was this a test? Another one? And hadn't she been with others when she saw this crystal? Ashe turned back around but neither Cissnei or Arc were standing near her. The circle of shadow beings still watched her every movement waiting
"Tell me," she demanded still unsure whether to cut the crystal and take the nethicite. Something began to turn in her stomach as all the inconsistencies began to pile up. "Occuria. What purpose does this vision bear. If I'm truly back to my motherland, than why bring the Cryst to me? Have you such power?" She asked turning from them back to the promise of the crystal. "And if still in the world anew, why haunt me with such memories. Is this a test like I had abandoned hope it was? Where are my other companions?" Ashe gave them a hard cold look. "Did you play such mind games with Raithwall as well?" The crystal hung and Ashe did all she could to not cut into straight away. They may be gods, but she was their chosen and they would answer if they wished their will be done.
Arc’s jaw dropped at the sight of the shadows that suddenly started appearing. It seemed that Amalia had been taken ahold of something as shadows lashed out. The boy ducked and backed away out of the room as he avoided the magic that was released. Grabbing hold of the wall, she looked into the room to see Cissnei standing and... laughing? The woman seemed to be trying to talk to whatever the shadow was. The boy started to look around the room to figure out how he could help. With Amalia having been thrown aside, the boy didn’t know what was going on.
Wanting to cast protective magics on the woman, it appeared to Arc that the woman did it herself already. Instead he chose to cast Libra on the shadow to see if if that had any information. Perhaps he could be of greater help than staying back there. Focusing on where Amalia was thrown, the young Warrior of Light moved to her body to see if he could do anything with that.
Arc wasn’t sure what had happened to Amalia, so instead he tried to use a Cura spell on her before attempting either Esuna or a Raise spell just in case. He honestly didn’t know what her state was after what just happened. Hopefully she wasn’t possessed, but what was the shadow?
murk™ WORDS: 225 TAG: DM, @blacksuit, @ashe NOTE: Sorry I’m slow and the post is so short.
The crystal gleams its golden light. The shadowed figures watch in silent vigil. Their answer comes in echoed whispers. ’We doubt. We doubt. We doubt.’ A cold wind strikes the streets carrying both sand and engine must alike. Above, the airships sputter their eternal hum. ”Will you take it? Will you destroy that which we oppose?” The wind shudders as the airships drop closer. The streets whistle with the gales.
”Prove your will.”
The dark tendrils split into two, three, four pieces that lash out like tentacles around them. They move to strike Cissnei down, but as they sweep towards her, her shuriken is overcome with brilliant light. It cuts through the tendrils before they can seize her, and the shadows recoil back to the crystal. A familiar peaceful aura charges through Cissnei’s blood, but now it carries a new spark. Pride. After so long seeking the Warrior’s aid, her spirit has finally connected and granted Cissnei her full power. Her blessing against the monk above surges with a new vigor and her chakrums gleam like holy beacons.
While the two damaged tendrils reform at the crystal’s core, the others close around her on either side. They slam against the ground, shooting up geysers of dark energy wherever they strike. In moments, Cissnei is nearly surrounded by the corrupted magic. There is nowhere to go but through or behind.
Arc’s Libra magic glazes over the entity ahead. It is unknowable and far more powerful than the spell can contain. However, he is struck with the strong indication that it is weak to holy magic. He gleans little else.
Ashe lies unresponsive as Arc approaches. However, she hums as the curative magic envelopes her. As the magic dissipates, she sits up but does not look at Arc. Her eyes are only on the crystal.
She rises and takes her blade in hand. She approaches carefully. Cautiously. The amulet in Arc’s possession grows hot as an ember and scorches with white light.
’Will you take it? Will you destroy that which we oppose?’ The whispers echo from nowhere or everywhere or perhaps from the crystal itself. ’Prove your will.’
