In the shadowed places of Eorzea, all manner of foul things can be found if you have the desire and unwholesome desire to find such things. Male and female, old and young, all slain or driven mad by these festering cesspits of wretchedness. And here now, in one of those dens of sinister intent was a creature not alive yet not entirely dead. It walked on the edge of the barrier that divided this world from the eternity of what was beyond.
The creature had had several names. Some it wore happily. Others forced upon it. It had once been forced to be one made of two. But that had changed. With the death of the voice, the bindings that made one of two had begun severing. Part had retained the female form, but the other part, the male part, had been expunged, excommunicated from the hallowed halls of undead flesh. And now, here, in this place, it clung to remain. By sheer force of determination and will it clung, resisting the call of beyond. It resisted for no higher reason then self preservation. It was not afraid of what lay beyond the veil, yet its base instincts did not want it to leave.
Here within this well of darkness and magic it festered, unknowingly drawing upon itself folds and tendrils over the passing of time. The one that was once part of two was making itself whole, defining itself once more on its own. No masters, no Voices, no split halves. Only itself in the darkness, binding to itself slowly a wretched form with onyx black eyes from which no light might escape. Sinister was this festering pool and its corrupted aether and here all other things that dwelt left as the one dwelt longer and longer.
In time it became a shimmering shadow of a shape, not truly there, as if a strong breeze might cast it away. But it endured and slowly drew more defined and stronger. It would be months before it was even partially restored. But it had nothing but time for time had bestowed upon the shattered remnaint an abundance of peaceful time.
How kind of time.
The creature had had several names. Some it wore happily. Others forced upon it. It had once been forced to be one made of two. But that had changed. With the death of the voice, the bindings that made one of two had begun severing. Part had retained the female form, but the other part, the male part, had been expunged, excommunicated from the hallowed halls of undead flesh. And now, here, in this place, it clung to remain. By sheer force of determination and will it clung, resisting the call of beyond. It resisted for no higher reason then self preservation. It was not afraid of what lay beyond the veil, yet its base instincts did not want it to leave.
Here within this well of darkness and magic it festered, unknowingly drawing upon itself folds and tendrils over the passing of time. The one that was once part of two was making itself whole, defining itself once more on its own. No masters, no Voices, no split halves. Only itself in the darkness, binding to itself slowly a wretched form with onyx black eyes from which no light might escape. Sinister was this festering pool and its corrupted aether and here all other things that dwelt left as the one dwelt longer and longer.
In time it became a shimmering shadow of a shape, not truly there, as if a strong breeze might cast it away. But it endured and slowly drew more defined and stronger. It would be months before it was even partially restored. But it had nothing but time for time had bestowed upon the shattered remnaint an abundance of peaceful time.
How kind of time.
