Okakri Rosemaw - The Hunger

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Eira
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Re: Okakri Rosemaw - Journal Scribblings

Post by Eira » Thu Apr 08, 2021 7:01 am

Entry Twenty-Three

Her claws failed her.

It is laughable, no? After decades of twisting arcana to cut short the lives of the weak, it finally turned on her. She could not hold her staff, nor even quill to pen her thoughts of oncoming demise. And yes! She saw it clearly; even clearer than through her eyes, for the Sight shows her Truth and nothing but. Had the Vultzi stood before her in that moment, wretched for how high he rises, this one knows he would have struck her down and torn her heart from her chest to feast upon her arcana.

She could have consumed him from the inside, yes, she would have gladly… but her body failed her far from the Homeland and far from the Vultzi. This one could hear them around her; the skittering claws and whispering laughs. She had closed her eyes and waited for the gentle touch of teeth to scale, to flesh, to bone. She waited for the agony, for the loss and for the crack of her own ribs. She waited. And waited. And waited.

And yet, after so long avoiding it, even in this wretched state, death eluded her. Or perhaps she eluded death. For her race, survival can be as simple as breathing. And breathe, she still did. Laying there. Waiting. Dying. Thinking. Listening.

A kobold is nothing without its tribe, she parroted the Zurki’s words for all she brought into the fold of Rosemaw. And so, therefore, by her own words, she was nothing. Yes, yes, of course she knew of Homeland, but what is Homeland in the stagnant hellscape of Andunor? What is a scattered tribe? What is she?

This one is not nothing.

If she truly believed those words, she would have followed the Vultzi like a faithful slave those years before when he traveled to slay the Rosephelia. No! She seized her place in the city and named herself All-Watcher and the Vultzi did not dispute her, yes. He accepted this and he sent the new blood to her to be forged and trained and spat out willing to serve him.

She did not do it for him. She does not live for him. And she will not. All that mattered was the work and the research, and when she covered herself with the mantle of the leader she was not, she told herself it was for the work. Essays set aside. Books unfinished. Writings that shall never again see the light of curiosity… She did it for them, for the eventuality of awakening that knowledge once more. She even resisted the Arcanum, in its glory, for the sake of her tribe. She resisted! Despite the Cassius’ words, and despite its passion for such knowledge, she told herself she would not focus upon it until her tribe needed her no longer.

And so, as this one waited for her death, she thought of this. This regret. And she thought of the King and how… Aie! What a disappointment to him she must be. Had she not been shackled by her own actions, she could have left with him and gazed upon his ascension and thought of nothing, nothing! Nothing but the work. The knowledge.

He heard her words. He must have, for He answered them as surely as if He stood there before her weakening form. And she saw Him and saw the light in His eye and heard the gravity of His voice. It was nothing like the pretender she knew He had claimed to serve; no, no, no! He was more. He is more. Truly, she knew this from the start; as soon as she saw the King, she knew He could not possibly be mortal like the rest. And now she knows the truth.

Ascended. Powerful. Wise.

She rose at the sight, unheeding of the weakness of her limb or stiffness of her claw, for she was not weak any longer! She stood of her own strength and saw Him in His Truth and from the Truth, she took the first breaths of speaking His Truth. He smiled and she saw in His eye and heard from His silvered tongue, the Knowledge she needed. The Knowledge gave her life, and it gave her power and it showed her how best to serve Him.

Had she the capability to weep, surely this would have been the one time in her existence, standing before Him, that she would have been brought to kneel.

The King is not dead.

Long may He reign.

I exist to describe the world around us.

Akorae

Keth'ym Evanara - wandering better paths
Veriel Xyrdan - married and happy
Reena Welkins - Dead

Discord: eighra


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