flowers are closed and lambs are sleeping
It was only by the locking of his joints that Ephidel could walk no further. He had not ceased since he awoke in this place... beyond the Dragon's Gate? That is the only thing it could be. The fire, the explosion, then this. If the morph managed to survive and reach the other side, then surely Lord Nergal was here as well, or the very least the portal that brought him here.
When Ephidel came upon a shore in this land, he merely turned and set off in a new direction. That was before the plains grew barren, and powder drifted from the sky. Normally a sensation so familiar, but the damp and frost blended to bring the morph's weakened limbs grinding to a halt. After a while, consciousness faded, and only barely returned to Ephidel face down in a shallow stream. Voices could be heard above him. Mutterings of if he was alive, and his worth in gold either way. He felt himself being dragged away before the world faded back out.
By the fire's warmth, strength returned to Ephidel. When he could feel his digits once more, they curled around the essence of his captors. Their screams could barely ring out before they were claimed. The morph blankly blinked at the now vacant camp. He blinked skyward. He was in some sort of cave or tunnel...
***
That was some time ago now. Long enough for Ephidel to think more upon it. Long enough to wonder more about where Lord Nergal was. His master had already been weakened by Lord Elbert... and his flesh was not as resilient as a morph's frame... Ephidel may have been able to survive the blast, but his master could have not. He had seen the way his Lord had used quintessence to reform the dead... Ephidel... would learn to do the same. And if his Lord not dead, this body brimming with energy would make for a marvelous gift.
So his nights were spent peering from beneath a burlap cloak in the Wilting Rose. Scanning the crowds for wellsprings of life. There was hardly any to be found in Abyss... its inhabitants criminals and murderers... Until one-
Hers was a quality he had not ever experienced... strong enough to overflow, yet at the same time, befuddlingly hollow-
Golden irises watched unwavering from his darkened corner of the pub.
@divinecrest