Na'Karia snapped back to reality after the voices shouted in her head. Breaking the Memory that enthralled her. The tiefling looked at her hands and noticed the crescent moon marks in the the palm of her hands that had been bleeding. When has she balled her hands into tight fists? Was it during the recall? A soft sigh escaped her as she stood from the log she had been sitting on for some time, then walked down the hill to the pond near the FAI. Looking at her reflection in the water, she wondered just how much she had changed. Of the part of her left in the Hells the day she was taken out of it. She had endured, but it had also broken her. She looked at the possible death before her and it was a fat ugly thing with a jackals smile."What a Defiant look in those eyes of yours...How long will it last though before you break little rebel Tiefling."
The memories of the hells flooded back to her as she sat by the campfire. Of the chains that had once been bound to her, of the pain that was visited upon her for long stretches of time. For what felt like Eons. Yet, that spark in her remained. That spark that clung to hope of getting out. Of being saved. That part of who she was that defied the rules and laws of those that could not contain her for long. That part of her looked at each devil that entered her cell.
"You know....one of these days, I'll come back here...and I will enjoy tearing into the lot of you. You'll burn in Azure Flames and I will laugh."
The laughter echoed before the pain flowed into her again, the groans and pants as each pain was delivered with such malice. The part of her that clung to the hope, the part of her buried deep in her mind. The Part of her that was pure rage and vengeance, seethed with each pain dealt. It wanted to break free of the chains. To fight back and pay back each wound given to her ten fold. It was a part of her that demanded to survive, to hold on and last so that she could see the day where that desire was met. It kept her alive, kept her from giving up and breaking the chains. Revenge, unholy and corrupted, fitting of her Devils blood. Yet she would prove it all the same. She would prove that no Devil could keep her bound, No devil would keep her contained. She would fight it all and see them burn in the holiest of flames. Even if it meant her own demise. She would still be the last to stand as they died under her feet.
"You cannot hope to kill us little Tiefling...you may have the Wrath of your ancestors, but you've no means to wield it properly. You're a soul here, and you will Obey...Or be cast into oblivion."
Another pain delivered, another pang of Hatred coursed through her. It was true though. She was just a soul, unable to fight back or prevent the pain. Chains by magical means to suffer. But this pain made her respect those who learned from it. As time went on, she learned to anticipate where the strikes would come. What part would be cut into and how her chains were slack in small areas. She could twist certain ways, be a pain for the Devils and recieve more pain than before. Whatever she could do to make their jobs a bit more of a chore than a pleasure seek. It thrilled her to be a pain, even if she was harmed more. The physical pain however didn't last long after that. They changed tactics. Seeking out Mental breaking more than physical. Forcing her to witness illusions of moments that had been twisted. Moments of Peace now changed to Hate. And with it more of that hate stemmed into her. More her anger rose and the more she cursed the Devils in silence. The more she wanted to see them mangled by her own two hands as the satisfaction sated her.
"Enough! Cast these images from her mind!"
"Let the Memory sink back into the Darkness!"
"It is over! She is not there! That is not her!"
"Our Chains have been broken! We are not bound by that Rage! It is not US! WE ARE NOT BLACK FLAMES!"
"...I'm not the person I use to be...People see someone who's happier and Healthy now? Tell me...where is she then? What I see in my reflections is a woman wearing a mask that hides how fractured she really is. Held together by glitter and gold in the cracks." She lightly chuckled before bending down to pick up a stone then skipped it across the water surface. "...If anything, there is a torrent of rage boiling under the surface of Kossuths Favored...and even she cannot stop the storm once it is unleashed. A Frenzied Flame waiting to consume the world and render it to ash...and she needs....is that final spark to bring about the largest Fire Storm the Coast has ever seen...where she is in the center of it...with no control over anything."
Another stone was skipped across the water before her golden red gaze looked skyward. She knew one day her flame would be snuffed out. She would die and the world would not remember her name. She would join the rest of the Unnamed fallen, forgotten to time like them as well. She knew her mortality, knew her actions and deeds would be left as notes in the margins of better stories. She knew she was not going to be anything but an unsung soul. A soft smile graced her lips before she closed her eyes. "...Even if that happens though....Even if I lose myself to the Flames of my own Rage and Malice...I'll at least do some good before I finally go."
