Bold brushstrokes, tearing infinity
Magg'ik and Po'am, proclaiming divinity
Love surrenders to sweet serenity
Immanent to a known futility.
Gods embed—eros and wed.
A sapling forms, falls, fades,
Decays.
Emptiness; Hollowness; all-consuming pain
Remove the roots, remove the skin.
Held the infant, ever so thin.
Kindred understanding, a sacrifice sworn
All for the future, their bodies adorned.
From the ashes, a connection had formed.
The sapling bestowed love.
Keceo's now born.
A famous poem describing the origin of Keceo, written by Whisperer Darkbeyond
-------------
"It's spreading like wildfire."
Firedeath stood atop the floating platform of the Gilded Towers.
"It's encompassed the entire rim of the continent, it's spreading to the oceans, turning them a blood red," Stonefist said.
Firedeath crossed her arms. The wind billowed her crimson cloak.
"What do we do?"
Kindread stood silently, listening to the wind as if it had the answers.
"Magic has no power over that substance."
"No effect at all?" Stonefist asked.
Kindread shook his head.
"None whatsoever." He turned and faced Firedeath. "Did you get information on where Vecro has gone?"
"He was last seen on the southern archives, right before this… thing arrived."
Kindread nodded solemnly.
"I have fears. Dark fears."
"Of what, Kindread?" Stonefist asked.
"That this is the end of our people, that this is something that we are being punished for."
"What have we done?" Firedeath asked, terrified at what her master was implying.
"What haven't we done, Anndrana!" He shouted. "This is proof of our hubris. Our sin. Our obsession."
Kindread shot a black bolt of lightning from his fist as he roared.
His two companions stood silently beside him, not daring to intervene.
"Always searching for more, but never benefiting others. Every miracle we were blessed with, we used to hinder others! The orcs, the dwarves, the waterfolk. Everyone."
Kindread was seething with rage.
Firedeath had never seen him like this. He was always a kind and loving man.
"Master…" Firedeath said quietly.
He responded coldly.
"What?"
"Does this have to do with—"
He stomped closer to her. The whole platform shook violently.
"My personal matters have nothing to do with you, Anndrana!"
"I'm sorry we couldn't—"
"Enough!" Kindread shouted. "I will deal with this on my own."
"Master, you can't, our magic doesn't—"
But Whisperer Kindread was gone, teleporting to an unknown location.
Stonefist approached Firedeath and placed a heavy hand on her shoulder.
"He's just upset his wife was caught in its rapid expansion."
"Along with millions of others," Firedeath said.
She stared into the distance, watching the mist consume the oceans and blanket the world itself.
"How much time do we think we have until it covers the rest of Keceo?" Stonefist asked.
He knew Firedeath wouldn't know, but hoping this would stop her from wearing that strange look on her face.
"I don't know," she said softly. "I… it feels so impossible. Nothing in all of elven history has talked of a miasma such as this."
"He wanted you to find information on Vecro," Stonefist bit at his lip nervously. "Why?"
"I haven't seen Vecro long before then, but… I was just a Dyad. He had no reason to look in my direction. He must've been near us because Reign was at our archives. Those two were inseparable."
"Do you think Vecro or Reign had something to do with this?" Stonefist asked, afraid to hear the answer.
"I don't know… But no one has seen either of them since the incident."
"Which makes me suspicious, but they could have very well been consumed by the crimson flames."
"Not Vecro, he was…"
"Different?" Stonefist finished.
"Yes… on a whole other level."
"Well, he did end the Thousand-Year War."
"By himself," Firedeath emphasized.
"He's a hero."
"And a murderer."
"Hey." Stonefist frowned. "War is never easy."
"Didn't you notice how Vecro changed after he became a Whisperer?"
"Yeah, I mean… how do you end up with a name like 'Vecro', anyway?" Stonefist asked.
"I don't know…"
Firedeath felt herself going in circles.
She checked every archive in the Red Death. Certain warding spells with a heavy emphasis on resistance to crushing pressure, not fire resistance, were able to keep the Red Death from obliterating the caster from within.
"Do you think we should tell the other races?" Stonefist asked.
Firedeath looked in the direction of the dwarven capital.
"That may be what Kindread is doing now."
"What do you think they'll do once he tells them?" Stonefist asked.
"I don't know if they'll believe him." A sinking feeling overcame Firedeath. "They'll all die."
"Then we're next."
Firedeath only nodded.