Ixos was soothing. Nature was maintained in here, and it grew splendidly.
Only when the Blood Rite happened did its silent embrace shift. Trees, boulders, and the river—the hands of superhuman fighting for survival stained all. Blood for the duration of the rite became the soil's fertilizer.
But the loud noise of battle only prevailed in the early and middle part of the rite.
Now, the rite is close to its inevitable ending.
And Ixos had forgotten to sleep. Before the night descended and the unseeable phantoms that lived on the periphery came, Ixos had been a chorus of insects, growling animals, and the light rustle of wind through old pines.
None of that was present now.
It was eerily quiet tonight, like the calm before the storm.
All survivors of Team Coeus huddled in the dark like sheep sensing the shadow of a wolf.
