Zerros Ozmir: Through Shadows & Fate

[Valleriani]

In the chamber, knee-deep in blood and barraged by blinding lights, Zerros felt the incessant drumbeat resonate with the disquiet within him. The absence of juniper berries only intensified his unease, remnants of past encounters pressing heavily on his mind. He reached into his pocket, his fingers instinctively finding a ring. The subtle touch of that ring momentarily transported him away from the chamber flooded with blood, grounding him to memories of past times and granting him a brief respite amidst the chaos.

It was short lived -- As soon after, a man in red robes steps into the room, the blinding lights illuminating his cold expression. "Having fun yet, Zerros?"

Gritting his teeth, struggling to stand upright amidst the knee-deep blood, he hisses back, "Your tricks won't break me. Wait until I get out of here. I will end your insignificant life."

Chuckling softly, the man tilted his head. "Bold words for a man standing in a pool of blood, without his magic. Until then, continue enjoying your 'show'."

With that, the robed man turns on his heel, letting out a small laugh, the echoing clang of the chamber door marking his exit.

[Valleriani]

Zerros sat there, slumped against the wall, soaked in the blood pool he in. The harsh flashes of light seemed almost rhythmic now, punctuated by the pounding beat of drums and the shrill tune of flutes. The noise and light made it impossible to discern day from night. Was it four days? Five? Time had lost its meaning.

Each time he'd start to fall into the numb embrace of sleep the drum beats would pull him back. The intense lights kept jolting him awake, preventing any chance of rest. Just when he thought he couldn't be tormented further, footsteps would approach, followed by the pitiless drop of a piece of stale bread or a splash of water. Even in this state, they seemed to want to keep him alive.

The ring in his pocket felt colder now, contrasting sharply with his body that seemed to burn with exhaustion. Thoughts of the past mixed with the pain of the present, reminding him of what he had lost and the choices he had made. Within these memories, an entity began to weave itself into his consciousness. It didn't have a tangible form, no physical attributes to describe, but it was. This being was alien, beyond the realms of reason or understanding. Its very presence screamed of things not right, of worlds and dimensions beyond the comprehension of mortals. The juniper berries' protective veil was now completely absent.

His thoughts fragmented further. He began to murmur to himself, latching onto the rhythm of the drums, trying to find a pattern, something to anchor himself to. His strength was waning, and his grip on reality became ever more tenuous. He found himself dancing on the knife's edge of sanity -- battling both his current torment and from his past.

He knew what they wanted, he knew what they were after; "They need me alive," he thought, a bitter smirk forming on his lip, "This won't be my end."

[Valleriani]

He leaned over the railing, his crimson eyes watching the city below him - a place that now had meaning to him. He remember the words uttered by another - a weakness. His eyes narrowed at the thought. It was that weakness that kept him going.

"I will continue - a promise. . . But I will save you, one day."

From his pocket he drew out a small token, pale as the moonlight, bound in a black silk. He then set it upon the railing, grasping onto it gently.

"I will burn everything to pull you from the Hells. ."

Hesitating for a beat, he finally let go of the token, Crimson eyes lingered only for a moment longer before they hardened - staring through rather then what lay in front of him.

"Through blood - you stand with me, no matter where you are. . . I won't ever forget you. Goodbye . . at least for now."