The voice spoke at a sweet, melodic tone I could never forget.
"Don't use it to hurt people, okay?"
The words were warm.
Hugging, with a cozy embrace.
My body felt light.
Hands calm, like low tide brushing against the sand.
Like a sunny day at the beach.
Mind empty, current clear and tame.
The sound of waves making playful banter with each other and stretching out as far as the eye can see.
Vision clear, unobstructed by struggle or doubt.
My heartbeat steady, blood back to its relaxed flow.
I felt...
Free.
"Vi?"
I looked to my left, a bit startled.
There was a young girl with a beaming smile, one that could easily light up a room. Her hair looked as if it had just been done, each strand neatly placed on top of the other. Her soft violet hair flowed calmly like the sea, forming faint waves along the way to the bottom. It reached halfway down her back, recently trimmed and tidy. A pretty, tattered, deep violet rose - attached to a thick band and wrapped around softly - held right in the center of her head near the top.
That rose was important. It had been me that gave it to her after all.
Her eyes, however, were unclear.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't see them.
They were...
Smudged.
Like a canvas with a clumsy painter.
It brought upon a sense of unease, in an otherwise beautiful landscape.
It was peaceful, but unfinished.
Something was missing...
Suddenly, her face distorted. A serious tone corrupted her bright smile.
"Focus, Solryn."
"What? I am focused, we're right here, together."
"Focus!"
Then, everything fractured.
The painter was reimagining the strokes on the canvas. The old mixed in with the new.
The little girl flickered, paint strokes reimagined.
She reappeared, this time below me, unconscious.
Her clothes and hair were tattered and ripped.
Smile still strong, but seeping with blood.
Her eyes were visible now, but there were none to see.
They were gouged out, pouring blood onto her now blemished face.
I looked up, my dagger stained with silver splotches.
I was the culprit.
Her mouth contorted.
A creaky, raspy voice escaped.
"Why did you leave me with the monsters? I wanted to see you."
No...
I had to.
"It was the only option..."
Black blots of paint mutilated the peaceful scenery.
The stalker demon ripped through space right in front of me, horrifying white eyes boring holes into my brain.
This painting was botched. Distorted.
The girl was erased.
Her raspy voice rippled through my spine.
"Why did you leave me?"
"No! I didn't! I swear I wanted to come back..."
"But you didn't."
"Stop!"
My airways began to choke up again.
Grip too tight.
Veins surging with blood, ready to pop.
Eyes blurred, bloodshot from anger.
No. Malice.
"You."
"You piece of shit."
"You made me bloody my dagger."
"You made me break my promise."
"Now, I'm going to fucking kill you."
A voice shot daggers into my heart.
[You have been marked - Predator's Claim.]
"Your loss."
My posture shifted, free of restraint. I darted towards the void ridden creature and slashed.
The splatter of blood struck the sand, like a painter's brush slicing its canvas for the first time.
"Too shallow. More."
Lunging forward, I planted my foot, onyx dust shooting out from beneath me. Twisting my torso, I forced leverage into my stroke. My right hand slashed down, and the blade was met with slight resistance as I tore through the chest of the demon.
Skin snagged, nerve endings split in two by my hand.
Splat.
Chrome blood muddied my dagger and the sand beneath it.
"Good. More."
My weight shifted. My left foot stayed planted and I used my momentum to spin, slashing down again, ripping through skin as I completed my next stroke.
The demon shrieked, then stifled the sound as it tried to growl.
Its eyes hyper focused, as if trying to understand.
Watching.
I didn't care. Whatever it was doing became meaningless after it forced my hand.
Ash kicked up beneath my feet, trailing off like smoke.
I shot forward, attempting to sink my dagger straight into its heart.
This time, it reacted. It put its distorted hand up, and my dagger sent silver splotches shooting into its eyes.
Its vision seemingly unaffected by the obstruction.
The dagger slipped straight through the skin. All of it.
I grabbed the hilt with two hands, and ripped it straight from the skin, creating a crescent arc of chrome shooting out, further painting the scenery.
This was my landscape. My canvas.
I decide who's colors sink into the ash, and who's don't.
This absence of color is corrupting what I created.
It must be removed.
The stain retaliated, but it was already too late.
It lashed its uncut arm directly at my eyes, but my brush was already in motion. Painting my vision became clear, every slash flowing together with the last.
One fluid motion, one beautiful stroke, lining my masterpiece.
Precise.
Movements unwasted, energy preserved.
My head slipped under the slash, using inertia to prepare my next move. My body twirled, each second feeding momentum into the dagger, strengthening my cleave.
Splat.
"More."
Silver whipped onto the scenery, my weapon slicing through the enemy like butter.
Muscle fibers in its leg ripped through in an instant, forcing it to stumble over.
Continuing my motion, each fueled by the last, I spun up, raised my brush high above my head, and swiped.
Each motion was calculated, as if they had been planned from the start.
Splat.
"Feel it."
Filled with ecstasy, my brush tore through the face of the creature, mind numb from the sounds of its blood splashing against the terrain.
This wasn't supposed to feel... right.
A piece of myself slipped away slowly, but I didn't want to stop.
"Who cares."
Lost and confused, the black blotches eyes darted around, like a lost puppy looking for its owner, only to find out it was abandoned.
It's eyes burned red.
Angered.
Scarred.
Stranded.
[Burst Lethality.]
Charged with animosity, the demon pounced, spraying chrome like darts into the air.
Its talons seared through the air, nearly ripping the fabric of the canvas.
Inches from death, my body reacted.
I understood. Calculated the pattern as it was portrayed.
Choreographed.
Like a painted picture, easy to see.
I stepped back, not bothering to be startled.
Infuriated, the creature lashed out, aiming for vitals with every swipe.
Its claws scraped against the stone, sparks flashing before dying in the ash.
The heart, eyes, lungs, achilles. It understood, yet it could not connect.
It could not reach me, yet I was right in front of it.
It swung and swung, crimson eyes leaving trails of agitation in every attempt.
It was futile. No feeble attempts to reach the creator would ever succeed, for I constructed this portrait. Every breath of life forged into it was meaningful, harboring on the edge of immense danger.
A painter in a state of flow, a level of perfection unobtainable during normal circumstances.
I could feel it, the flow of blood surging into an area right before a movement was made, the calm before the storm.
Each step contained a purpose.
Avoid. Evade. Disrupt.
Chaining these movements together, a sea of chrome washed over the black powder base, swallowing it whole.
Each stroke, further diminishing what was left of the stain.
Replacing it with a magnificent, sparkling array of silver.
It wasn't my first abstract piece, but it was certainly my greatest.
The largest, most important stroke was yet to come.
The most grandiose of them all.
The final stroke.
The stain had already lost, its limbs sliced to pieces and its weaknesses exposed.
No more delay.
No more excuses.
My dagger sunk deep into its neck, and rapidly slashed through.
Chrome-tinted blood spewed out, spraying like a hose turned on full blast.
Lifeless, the demon's body plummeted into the floor, a carcass of its former self.
The elegant voice emanated from my heart without hesitation.
It rewarded me for murder.
It didn't care.
The Heartveil Speaks:
[You have received: 90g Low-Grade Essence.]
[Misalignment Bonus: +10g Low-Grade Essence.]
-+-
[Irregular Yield Detected.]
[Veiled Favor Applied.]
-+-
Message:
[Veiled Favor: +10g Low-Grade Essence.]
[So this is what you chose.]
The voice faded.
The silence returned.
My painting was complete.
But I felt...
Empty.
I felt stronger than I ever had in my entire life, power forced its way through my skin.
Yet, all I felt was weak and extremely exposed.
Stripped down, raw.
Pressure.
Completely vulnerable, left with nothing but my morals shattered and what I had created.
The girl spoke again.
"Don't use it to hurt people, okay?"
The words stung.
I dropped the dagger, drenched in silver blood.
I failed.
My hand had risen without hesitation, with full intent to kill.
I didn't stop it.
Taken over by hatred, I gouged out not only the life of my enemy, but the vision Vi had for me.
Gifted opportunity and protection, I chose destruction.
A life shattered, in order to preserve mine.
Drenched in their essence, my entire body was the canvas for their death.
Their painting etched into mine, existence reduced into the dust I walk on every day.
"Vi?"
No response.