What Xandren Fears

A mote of white essence floats in from the west, bobbing unsteadily.

The mote of essence drifts closer, circling about Xandren's head.

Xandren tilts his head curiously towards the wisp of essence.

Xandren reaches up curiously to try and touch the essence.

As you touch the essence, it darkens. A painful chill consumes your body, starting from your fingertips. You shiver helplessly.

Xandren jerks his hand back wincingly.

Your vision flickers white, and the chill intensifies. An oppressive feeling weighs over your body, the presence of a Godly Being at the edge of your consciousness.

"Why do you fear His mission, mortal?" a ghostly whisper intones within you.

Xandren shivers visibly, eyes starting to flick about, head tilting as his ears listen outwards, scanning his surroundings as his grip tightens on his vicious dark brown dhurive, a soft
crack audible from his grip.

>His mission...?

Xandren shakes his head violently towards Fanico and lifts a finger to his lips, uttering a soft, slow, "sshhhh...." (was offered to go hunting here, RP session takes priority, sorry @fanico!)

Within your white-washed perception, the world about you begins to decay. Nature shrivels, flesh rots and sand rises up to consume any remaining vegetation. It creates a bleak, desolate world; a suggestion of the whisper's meaning.

Xandren blinks before his eyes widen in alarm, scanning the scene around him.

>I don't want... to lose everything I work to protect... I can give it to the cycle of Rhythm acceptingly ..as death is as much a part of life in Rhythm..but I don't want the rotters to succeed in ruining the cycle..I don't.. I don't want this!

>I don't want this...this staleness, this disease..this illness.. I don't want any of it to occur to my home!

Your vision is brought to Relandroc, whose flesh is now sickly and rotting, his hollow eyes completing his undead illusion. "What is it you fear, when those you protect will continue to exist, mortal?" a raspy voice inquires, its tones echoing within you.

Xandren shakes his head violently again, wanting to blink away the images as his grip tightens further, the wood of his vicious dark brown dhurive groaning louder and more audibly as he turns around towards Relandroc, eyes narrowing as he brings the blade down in a brandish, he suddenly exclaims, "I fear the staleness, the unchangingness, the unwillingness to change
and become something newer, and better, with the cycle of rhythm!"

Relandroc ponders your profile, deep in consideration.

Kerryn glances at you curiously.

Xandren flicks his eyes upwards, seeking out the wisp of essence he saw moments ago, narrowing his eyes, ears flicking at unheard whispers, blade remaining brandished towards Relandroc, inching back but not losing his stance.

Your eyes are now brought downward by the force within. You view your own hand as it begins to decay, your own body seeming to succumb to the gift of immortality. "Is it not a change for the better, mortal?"

Xandren lifts his hand up before his eyes, narrowing as he shakes his head violently, saying, "NO! This rot is NOT for the better! IT'S FOR THE WORSE! DO NOT TAKE MY MORTALITY FROM ME! IT'S WHAT KEEPS ME AS PART OF THE CYCLE!!" Swinging his arm away from his eyes, and whirling his Dhurive upwards to drive the tip into his foot, wincing in pain at an attempt to break the illusion.

The presence within you grows silent, and the chill consuming you takes on a strange feeling; it is numb now instead of uncomfortable as the pain of your own wound consumes your senses. The shivering stills and the cold that grows on your very bones provides a strange comfort. Without further explanation, the presence withdraws from you, returning your senses to normalcy.

Xandren winces in pain as he starts to drop to his knees, sliding down his dhurive, still embedded into his own foot, eyes closing as haggard breathes escape his lips.

"Persevere, mortal," a distorted voice intones as the last bits of essence dissipate into the air.

Kerryn's gaze follows the wisps momentarily before her attention returns to you, "Need some help?" she asks.

You say, "I...I...I will...Persevere.. As.. I've always...done.."

Xandren continues to pant and gasp in haggard breathes.

You say, "I... I'm..alright.. I think.."

Kerryn eyes the blade in your foot.

Xandren opens his eyes as he lifts his right hand before his face. He wiggles his fingers a few moments before nodding softy. He stands up and pulls the obsidian blade of his Dhurive from his foot with a slight wince, murmuring softly to himself.