The plan was indeed quite simple. Wake Lord Eos before the three fighting above spotted them, but, as the saying goes, it's easier said than done, and as they finally reached the edge of the canopy, the knight knew that this saying was infinitely harder in practice. The forest trembled under the might of the great nobility of the forest, and the even greater evil that covered it. The branches swayed in a hailstorm of ash and blustery winds that never ceased. The flames that began painting his vision–the hot white, and smoldering orange were no longer clashing against each other, instead, they were slowly working to destroy the infection that had reached the peak of its power again.
Kanaft clicked his beak in what the knight now knew to be agitation as the two pairs of eyes looked over to the fight.
"They're winning for now. We have to move quickly. This could get bumpy, so hold on tight." The knight simply nodded, clutched at the black feathers beneath him and continued to look about the sky curiously.
There was no bright object covering the sky in brilliant light, or even a pair of lovers mingling with a vast painting of partying stars, no. The sky was covered entirely with giant clouds, Arsenic ash, blocking out all hints of the outside world, and the natural–unnatural light provided by the artificial light above the heavens. Almost innumerable in population were the tiny greenish-yellow dots that covered everything–all across the covered sky, all the way down to where they were, and everything in between. These were each a single of the nightmarish creature's lives, each one an eye the size of his fist, looking around, and taking in every little detail. They looked almost like stars–but to the knight they were missing something–something that the stars had only ever directed at him–that graceful invitation to join them beyond the sun, and live in the vacuum with them, and party with them. The eyes above held no good intentions, each one burned with the furious hunger that had plunged this world into its current state.
The pillars of fire created by the two radiant beings were destroying such a large amount of those eyes at once, it almost looked like they would be done eradicating it in cut a few moments, but as spires of fire traveled across the black sky, those patches without any of the spine chilling light were quickly assaulted, and replastered with even more eyes, all staring down a small portion of Moyra.
The knight shivered for a moment as a cold chill sprinted down his spine. They weren't staring at Moyra–they were staring at them. As the realization hit, Kanaft suddenly leapt off of the small branch he had perched on with speed unlike anything the knight had seen the bird fly with previously. The world blurred for a long moment just as they blurred to the world. Kanaft had decided the best option at this moment was to hover not far above where the highest stretching branches ended, as if trying to blend in the charcoal flavored trees, something that sadly would not work. As soon as they passed the first particularly tall branch, the knight voiced his discovery.
"We've been spotted," the shout ripped through the heavy winds battering the knight through the helmet like an intrepid blade found in the Valley of Old Flames, which, thankfully, was enough to get the attention of the raven, as tendrils of the flakey darkness emerged from the great dome the surrounded said birds birth place.
"That complicates things," The mental message gave the knight pause for a moment. Had he really already forgotten that he could mentally project his voice? That was embarrassing, but he wasn't given a moment to feel embarrassed as the bird made a sharp turn upward. It was far easier to fly when there was nothing obstructing your path, and it gave them a clear view of their destination.
As the first tendril of ash passed right by the pair, missing by a hair's breath, the knight was quick to notice the grand island that floated above the rest of the forest. It wasn't wreathed in the same darkness that the rest of this small world had been, but instead it was lit up with the beautiful, and vividly warm fire. In the center of the island was a tree, a tree somehow dwarfing the numerous trees he had seen in this forest, despite the tree being far smaller than them. It was so far away, yet the knight was still able to see each of the pinky sized flames of orange ignited on the withered branches, connected to the equally aged stem. The blazing leaves lackadaisically swayed in the breeze; it was a hypnotic sight, even as a blurry image. He was pulled out of his reverence by Kanaft's pointed communication.
"Snap out of it–we're soon to enter sacred ground. Look out for the Guardians–I'm getting a bad feeling," Blinking, the knight glanced about the vast darkness, and immediately noticed the absence of a giant stream of red hot fire, but in that he also got a look at one of the Guardians–the Incarnate, Umor.
After following the spewed fire, the knight saw a figure forged entirely of the same fire it spewed. Without legs, the creature would've looked almost stubby with its rather short torso with a tornado of fire attached at the waist. Out of the shoulders were comically long appendages that looked akin to arms, though it was hard to tell through the haze of the intense heat imitated. The creature had a head colored the same color as the rest of its body with a head of black fire cascading down its back, masking its scalp entirely from where he could see the creature. The Incarnate Umor was battling the darkness created through ash by incinerating the ash, and every uncanny eye within range of the immense pyre that never stayed in one place at once. Like a violent vortex of bright, hot intensity, the pyre of flames swerved in his vision, constantly staggering and jittering across the sky, singing the very darkness itself–the father of fire.
As tantalizing as the creature was, that was not what had drawn his attention the most. There was nothing else writhing in the darkness. There was no other figure fighting alongside the Incarnate; It was all alone, and Shreifaya was nowhere to be found. Though they were natural enemies in the absence of their light, they were once allies, and, in the face of a cluster of agony smothering the remains of a searing woodland, that once upon a time kinship was more than enough.
Grimmly, he relayed his findings to his feathered companion, while his eyes continued to linger on the pyromaniac known as Umor. Though the creature could not smile–as it didn't have a mouth–there was a certain, almost malicious pleasure in its alien intelligence as it ignited the pupils and set them ablaze in their own tiny hurricanes of fire. There were no screams of agony from the giant monster in the sky, just silent trembles as the spirits within slowly pulled themselves out of the agony ridden experience inside of the unpleasant intangibility of the flaky ash, and it only made the fight more shrill to the knight. The scent of death, rot, and overwhelming decay was being purged section by section, and yet it still seemed so overwhelming as it fell like a blizzard, seeping into every nook and cranny of every grove in every tree across the once beautiful Moyra. It was sickening. It was execrable. Yet it was still ruthlessly uprooted by the elder of the twin Guardian Conflagrations. That was a spine chilling, completely humbling realization.
For all his strength, the knight was but a glimpse of the great creature in front of him. Just how much stronger are the giants compared to Umor, and… how much stronger was Eos compared to them? His musings on the skewed balance of power were cut short when a violent jet of white obscured his vision. That was dangerous. White was a dangerous color.
Closing his eyes in a fraction of a moment, the knight was still ill prepared for the blast of wind that would follow the reversed waterfall of taint. He had nearly been thrown off of Kanaft's back by the torrent assaulting him, and it didn't stop in that moment. The strident gusts screamed for well after the initial blast of invisible pressure. He lurched in his place, and before he knew it, he was already on his way back to the surface, well off of Kanaft's safe back. He had been blown backwards, and because of that, he had gotten quite the look at the assailant who had forced him off his companion, who was already on a mad dash to catch him.
The lithe, slender form of a serpentine body flew straight upwards, with pure white scales adorning it like an infinite number of honor badges. The diameter of the creature's frame couldn't be any shorter than he was tall, giving the creature a tree like appearance from where his eyes were currently focused on. Slowly, brown eyes took in the length of the creature, finally finding twin, pudgy arms, that were more like ornaments of color than working limbs, bathed in feathers the color of imperceptible orange, which was not unlike the slightly tangerine tinge sheen across the glistening marble scales. Attached to each of the small limbs were a set of nasty-looking, forearm length claws, that looked prepared to cut anything to ribbons in moments of getting within reach of them.
When his unhurried gaze reached the head of the creature, he found himself disturbed for a moment. With those lilac eyes, twin horns pulled backwards out of his skull, as if trying to appear more as long ears, and the regal expression hidden in its expressive face–this creature looked like a ghost. A ghost of his past. The ghost of divinity. A blossom of understanding bloomed in his heart as he looked at the creature in front of him. This was Shreifaya of the Guardian Conflagrations, yet he couldn't help the name that wormed its way to the forefront of his mind–the one who had caused him innumerable sleepless nights–insurmountable guilt, and a draping remorse. Just thinking about those innocent, kind, yet immensely powerful eyes–it didn't feel right.
"Lady Eurel…?"