DwC August 2025
Day 5, 8/21
Attack
@daily-writing-challenge
For all the tragedy of K’aresh, there was a certain grandeur in flying free in the starry space surrounding its broken land masses. It was an unmatchable, dark splendor that Safrona did not feel careening through the great caverns beneath Khaz Algar or the Dragon Isles, or even whipping through the surface skies of Azeroth herself.
It was of course a given responsibility to transport needed supplies to the Trust and Azeroth’s finest. Safrona always took her role as a depended Courier to heart. For every year that more came to need her and Empyrean Imports, the more instrumental she had felt she had become to the struggle of armies and heroes on the front lines. Even on the dead remnants of another world, her supply drops were the necessity behind invigorating the morale of those keeping a consistent attack on the unstable forces that meant to undo them all.
She could not deny the K’areshi Trust made her job far easier when she gained access to the instantaneous transport between phasing points of K’aresh. There was of course an initial cautionary reaction to the conduit plate she was meant to interact with. Safrona had grown accustomed to Ethereal arcanotech through the years, but it was always in small doses. Phasing meant she would be made entirely formless, weightless. She could not quantify in the moment how she would be able to manifest magic without the certainty of flesh.
When she let the conduit’s magic reconfigure her mass, however, and felt herself coalesce in an instant from Tazavesh to the broken land that was Shadow Point, the weight of concern seemed to lift like the weight of mortality. The nexus of energy that she was pulsed with a vibrancy she could feel, taste, and see. The very core of her being felt seen, and…
A t̹̭́ͬ͑͌́ͫ͟͞a̖͔ͪͫ̚͜s͐̃t͚͚̐e̵̲͂̽̊ of̸̗̤̠̕ F̸̗̕͞r̈ͥe̵̴͍͓ͭ́͜e̜͉̓͌̂d̙̏̿ͫ͟_̡̻͍o̟̯̦̲̯̹̒̅ͭͯ͌m͖̏̆̚͘.̶̤ͬͥ̅̒̐
The Voidwalker had transferred as well, and she spinned on it as its voice engulfed her. Without the barrier of flesh to muffle the sound, the voice seemed once more inside her skull, a vibration roaming down her bones that slipped past all defense. She had heard it before, an unwanted passenger latching on to her Voidwalker when it's attempt to attach to her was rebuked.
But rather than the threat of a knife gliding down her marrow, the vocal felt somehow pleasant. A cool silk tracing the fel afflicted chain wound around her soul that she had existed with for so long. It regularly resided in the void servant now, its power evolving beyond what she thought capable. It had been starving her with it’s taunting game of devouring, and it recognized hunger for hunger. And the hungry needed to feed.
The Untethered were everywhere, imperceptible to the weighted physicality of eyes, now glowing shapes of life and memory. A banquet laid open across broken land. The Voidwalker careened past her and stirred essences through tormentous strikes, enraging their attention. And now it turned to face her with not respectful obedience but anticipatory goading. It's form lurched with the many that attacked, but it only grinned knowingly at her with a maw that should not have manifested in the empty void of its mass.
With the voracity of the hellishly tormented mercifully brought to the table to feast, Safrona tore into nameless shapes with a magical entropy that answered more intimately than it ever did in the flesh. The ache in her began to pain less, but the Voidwalker now only watched her with an unhinged interest, even as the angered phantoms tore at its girth and sapped at its strength.
"What are you doing?!" she snapped, and replenished its health with a stream of her own. It was a force of habit, as any Warlock would power its serving minion when on the field. But she felt an almost perverse delight from the Entity as it spilled its voice out for her again.
Onward, the Voidwalker lead the hungering to new prey - lost K’areshi following the demand of a lost emperor. She invited them to her harvest, tearing at the threads of their being until they were her own. It was too easy, catching the fleshless in the wave of her entropic destruction, the sweet siphoning after. Desperation became satisfaction, then a certain dark glee as each essence washed away into her own, empowering her.
Souls empowering her, and not the crystals they were meant for. The realization toppled her from the blind high of empowerment, brimming as she already was with leeched energy. This was not the way of the Harvester of the Perished. But the addiction was a vice grip, and she could feel the presence that had usurped her demon tightening it, widening her hunger with every knowing breath. Casting her glance toward it, its shape shifted to the memory of those that she had taken, to those that it had seen in her company, a shadow yawning with terrible possibility.
Safrona’s thoughts tore away from the engulfing, ringing sound of its voice, her eyes snapped close against the sight of it. She sought the anchor of another. World’s away, she found the defining sound of a guitar’s inquisitive parade of notes, and let the sound capture her. The First of the Perished.
I need you. It was a soft, plaintive request to a treasured lover, but it burned the bound heart it was given to with desperate demand.
The Entity had bore witness, observing this mental repore, this bond that rivaled all others. It did not shrink like her other demons in the presence of this tethered soul. It was hungry to know all.
As her eyes turned toward what her Voidwalker should have been, it shifted shape, and mimicked the shadow of her Orchid.
Safrona gestured in an outrage, dismissing her Voidwalker from her side and back to the Darkness from where it had come.
A multitude of laughs that seemed to spill from too many maws haunted the space it had occupied for too long, after.
{With reference to @allasticus and @thefirstperished }
