This she wondered as the pain of the collision spread through her physicality. Arching. There was a sound, too, though—a low rumbling like air trapped and vibrating within lungs. Or so she guessed, at least. There were very few means to draw clarity, given the spinning of her ocular perception. Rather annoying. But when overlaid with the damage that could have been done by the attack, a mild headache seemed fair in comparison.
Fair but annoying nonetheless.
She nodded within and whined, her fingers digging into the depths of her pouch. Her aim was for a little something to stall the creature.
There, she felt the soft bag, navigating through the darkness of perception before plunging her hands through. That was the thing about the pouch; rarely did it require sight for the retrieval of items. No. Only intent and knowing. Good. Although the intent couldn't always yield the exact thing desired. A rarity, though.
An example being the time she had attempted the recovery of her journal. Multiple times. in the end, the one belonging to the SunBringer was the outcome.
A shrug. "Well, it's not as if every Sacred Relic was without flaws!"
A loud thumping raced towards her, the ground beneath trembling with a boom-boom-boom of coming motions. Something heavy. Something hard.
Ah…the need for quickness.
Geni dug into the pouch, fervently. Paused and grinned. She had found the needed.
"Eat this!"
She hurled a box towards the sound source. A flash of light burning as the world, her eyes blurred back into proper perception.
She could see.
Good.
Thus…
There, in the aftermath of the explosion, was a giant thing. Grotesque. Like a human, except fat, its belly drooping down towards the earth. All of him—it—was naked, covered in a layer of furry skin. A bald head with two dark eyes present in the mouthless, noseless face.
"A Fallen?" Geni knitted her brows. "Why in damnation do the Neckslitters have a Fallen here?"
The two eyes meant this monster was a Corrupted Fallen. Powerful, yes. She poised herself, taking a breath. The earlier attack—something of a flash bomb developed by the hivemind's CastWarers—had done nothing to the creature. It stood yet, a bone-curved club grasped tightly in its fingers.
Prime.
There were scars across its form. This gave some measure of data.
"So the Neckslitters have been giving some beatings to you, eh?" She smiled. "I guess it's something that even pirates don't fancy Fallen." The oversized sword was pulled from the pouch, leveled right there on her shoulder. She pointed at the creature with her other hand. "Let me calm you of all that pain."
The Fallen rumbled, veins snaking round and around its throat. "Mist!" she realized. Corrupted Fallens were known to possess symbols.
Too late.
A loud wave hammered into her. Frantic. Geni arching in the air as the world spun in that same delirious quality. Twisting. She retched, stomach bile rising as though in a race for exposure.
Fortunately, as she soon realized, the powers of this creature weren't too disturbing. Hence, landing feet-first atop the darkened, dry earth, Geni stumbled just a bit, absorbing the information.
Ready.
The broadsword waved around her, cutting through the air. She heard it—that whistling as the metal sliced the very winds. Just enough to intimidate any cognitive creature. Except, as she looked up, the Fallen merely tilted its head as though bewildered by her bootless actions.
"You aren't very cognizant, are you?"
That seemed to annoy.
It raced towards her, club swinging, throat bulging as more lines coiled around its surface. Rather disgusting. She shivered but leaned forward, heaved in a deep breath, and allowed the vaguely blademaster senses within to kindle. They poised as she did.
And thus she saw it: the motions of the creature, the pacing of its legs, the jiggling of its drooping belly, the patting of the dampened floors as it soaked in the collision. All of it. Just enough data for the formation of tactics. Just enough indeed. She nodded, jumped, and the world toppled. The sky above—dark, foamy—flipped. The earth—wet, misty—rolled up.
For a moment, floating in the center of this inverted world, Geni was a source of singular normalcy. A lady, dressed in blue, with a large broadsword primed for battle. Above her were mountain peaks, steam rising down from the "above." Below was a bewilderment; a layer of blackness snaking through with violent whiteness.
And there, centered just right between them... was Geni.
The world had tipped to her order. Such was the might of the SpaceRunner!
She grinned, looking up, eyes narrowing toward the distorted mass that was the Corrupted Fallen. It roared, its motions nothing but the slow passing of moments. She could mock it, right here, above it, the winds whistling into her ears, the clouds below booming with their incessant rumblings. She could mock it.
And in the words of every man in Eastos, Geni flipped the world, falling in a hail of color.
"MIST THE FALLEN!"
Her blade met flesh.
_______
Geni sat at the edge of a mountain branch. Here, most of Ravenland was spread out like a field of black caps. Much elastic wood. On all sides—to the left, in the distance, enshrouded by fog—were alps, mounts, and peaks. Very few rivers could be observed from this point.
Be it the darkness caused by the plague on Enor or the steam, Ravenland—outside the abundance of ravens and elastic woods—had very few rivers. Yet, the scenery was much appreciated.
For an island in the Redstones, it seemed rather…less red.
She smirked, taking a journal from the box. Hers, not the one of the SunBringer. Hers. In it, Geni flipped a pen and logged the experiences of today. Be it good or bad, certain things should almost always be written. After all, experiences had a way of vanishing from the mind without a proper means of recollection.
And even though the Caster enjoyed the full recollective traits, there was still no harm in such simple actions. A moment passed in dull writing.
A sigh escaping her lips. "What now?"
The journal was closed and stuffed back into the bag. Very few things existed to do now—for her, at least. As a member of the Tide Guards, her job was essentially what had been decided by the Praetorian. And that had been the complete culling of the Neckslitters.
So, what happens now?
Geni disliked the wastage of time—a cliché trait shared among Casters, yes. To her, time was what could be spent seeing and searching. She threw her hands into the sky. "Adventure!" She cringed.
But the truth remained that.
Her feet kicked in the air; bored, uncaring of the fact that below was a drop of more than fifty meters, mostly concealed by opaque fog. But what did that matter to a SpaceRunner? Flying was perhaps the easiest trick for a jumper. She groaned. "Where's Daena!"
That woman... Geni blushed. Praetorian Daena was the one in charge of the Tide Guards. She was unsure what that title, "Praetorian," meant exactly. To Geni, a Praetorian seemed lesser in rank than a High Knight, although not many people even knew of their existence. But in comparison to a comes, where exactly does a Praetorian rank?
She shrugged. Not that it mattered anyway.
The gusts kissed against her cheeks, wetting them just enough with the carried-in winds of a coming storm. Always coming, the misting storm. Day after day, every Eastorian born could always count on the everstorm.
"Should I really wait here even when the storm comes?" Even a SpaceRunner could not dare brave the calamity of the skies. She shuddered. "WHERE IS DAENA!"
"It's Praetorian to you," came a soft, beguiling voice.
Geni whirled and saw, standing there with the wind slapping against her hair, a woman. A tall, slender woman. Lords, the legs on her.
Appearance: Short whitened hair, small bosoms, with curved hips. And then her eyes—they were like liquid gold with a small dot of black right in the center. Fair-skinned, too, the woman was clothed in a black, tight, sleeveless dress that revealed her fair neck and bust. Complementing this were gold bracelets, earrings, and a necklace.
That was Praetorian Daena. Her and those glassy heels of hers.
A thing that Geni had deliberately copied.
"You're here?" she gasped, rushing frantically to her feet, tripping almost at the suddenness of the motions. Not a very good look, falling before Daena.
The woman wore the briefest of smiles. "Went to check your work."
Geni perked up.
Daena smiled. "Don't you think you should have burned the Fallen's corpse after that?"
"Ah?"
"The blood might be corrupted, you know." Daena leaned in, Geni's eyes drifting to the top of the revealing dress. A warmth filled her.
"Uhm," she mouthed. "Must have forgotten."
"For a Caster?"
Geni panicked. "No, no, no, sorry. I was lying." She fidgeted. "I was actually looking at your chest and lost track of what to say..."
Ah! What did I just say?
Wait!
Her eyes lowered and found, tied around her ankles, a glowing gold trail of rope.
Mists!