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Beyond the Mirror

<< Shadows chase within the mirror's depths, resolving with a flash of scaley tail into a vision of the Sculptor, hunted once again through dark, empty mazelike seas. Not, this time, pursued by the Soulless Devourer, but by a looming shadow, radiating a palpable sense of envy and cruelty as She hunts Her prey through the murk and mire. With a powerful thrust of Her tail, the no longer star-shaped Goddess evades the shadow's grasping fingers, swirling to follow up briefly with the trident She wields, before resuming Her paced flight. Her face is set in grim determination, the shallowness of Her breathing testifying to Her struggle as She evades memory and vengeful Goddess alike. >>

<< Scarlet runs throughout the mirror like blood over blackened glass, lightning revealing a storm of black sand which seethes and churns in an unceasing storm. Deep within, barely visible in the darkness despite the scarlet illumination, floats the diminutive form of the Shofet of Abyssal Scales, Their form shifting as ebon glyphs form and reform an ever-changing, protective shield about them to combat a seemingly endless attack of seawater and plantlife. An anguished, bloodthirsty howl rips from Their canid muzzle, cut mercifully short as the mirror's surface blackens with an echo of a maddened Goddess' cackle. >>

<< Like cracks within an obelisk of obsidian that should have stood for an eternity, the image of the Silent Lord lies fragmented within the clutches of this murky lagoon. The darkness about Him spurns His every call, born not of His Daughter, but of the depths of the mired Goddess's demesne. Shards of violet splay out around Him as the shattered pieces of His ethereal cloak drift listlessly within the sickly floral waters, their forms shifting back and forth with a prismatic sheen as Her laughter pulses eternally around Him in a denial of silence. Despite all this, it might seem that He were at peace, for His ebon face is still as expressionless as ever - save for a handful of spindly, jagged fractures. Splayed from the corners of His blue eyes, these tiny marks betray the fierce cold of His wrath. >>

<< Manic cackling resounds as vines of bromeliads snake about the Empyreal Goddess, attempting to bind Her within their floral prison. Even as the exotic blossoms seek to ensorcell Her, the Divine radiates a blinding white light that causes the flowers to hiss and shrink back as if burned, only to lunge towards Her again and again, undaunted, from the murk of distant, unseen waters. Even the Hamadhi's endless patience can be wearied. The vision fades into darkness as the Goddess is pulled closer and closer towards a mound of coral overrun with the rampant flowers, leaving nothing but a sinister echo of Li-varili's laughter behind. >>

<< Dragged in the undertow of darkness and saltwater, the Even Bladed fights futilely against the grip of seaweed hungry for the ichor of the Gods. Her body bruised, Her features weary, She continues to struggle all the while She descends into the untold depths of Li-varili's depravity. Her icy green gaze catches yours staring back through the mirror, and as She tries to shout, only the muffled, muted gurgle of bubbles flow from Her lips, a vague sense of sound that is overtaken by the riptides. >>

<< Drowned in darkness, Maylea, Bloom of Serenity lies beneath murky waters, bound by binds of mud and entangling seaweed. Her anguished golden eyes pierce the gloom, the only colour present in the swirls of sombre grey. The Goddess's lips part, and bubbles rise, shimmering with prismatic light caught from the glow of Her gaze. They coalesce into blooms of brightness that expand in iridescence until one by one by one, they burst. And there is darkness. >>

<< The bitter taste of saltwater presses against the Epicurean Lord from every angle, washing over Him in a flood of grief and rage. Even caught within the centre of this unforgiving whirlpool, the Elder maintains a bright smile that is utterly at odds with His predicament, whirling His cane to summon a swirling shield of His own; pink sugar spun like cotton candy spirals into existence, blunting the barrage of harsh waves against a cushion of soft sweetness. The cloying scent of sugar fights with the sharp tang of the ocean for dominance over the Divine's hazy surroundings, finally plunging Him into darkness. >>

<< A glimmer of gold descends an underwater abyss, the only source of light and warmth in the oppressive darkness. Its source - the Enchantress - as She sinks amidst billows of black gossamer and golden tresses floating loose from their braids. Radiating waves of hatred and rage, a dark shadow presses pursuit from above, but the undersea contest is absent of motion as the two Goddesses are locked in a battle of wills instead. The shock waves that ripple out from Their struggle crash into you in a cacophony of might and sound that leaves a spiderweb crack on the mirror. >>

Visions from the Bloodtide Coven manifesting during the Curse of the Sunken Heart.

Carried upon a bitter breeze, a vicious, mocking voice hisses in your ear and speaks of its dreams of ruin...

Dreams of Ruination

"I dream of a family. The children are exploring the tiny, water-filled holes in the rock formations forming the shoreline, while waves gently crash against their borders. Their legs are tickled by waters passing on the surface, nourishing the life surviving within the pockmarked rock. You gaze back towards the shore, waving to your partner, but they seem to yell something, pointing towards you. You don't understand, but eventually look back at the children. A pair of tiny legs sink into one of the holes, being pulled by an aquamarine hand. You scream, running towards it, but slip on the slippery seaweed. The last thing you remember is a sharp pain in your temple."

"I dream of pristine shores of white sand, and in dark contrast, sharp, black rocks shaped by the waves to pointy edges. And skewered on them are the corpses of merians, of faelings, of elfen and krokani, all those who opposed the Lady of the Lagoons, their dark red blood colouring the sand and froth."

"I dream of a world turned right - a Mother deprived of Her child lets those who stole the child from Her reap what they sowed. Pain and sorrow are the only companions of Her enemies, suffering and defeat Their fate for countless years. The Lady of Lagoons deserves Her revenge and those who opposed Her deserve their inevitable ruin."

"I dream of standing on the beach, watching the children play in the surf. They are laughing, splashing. One of them found a piece of driftwood and tries float on it. But something is wrong. One is missing. A hand, and a struggle. A single yell manages to be heard, mixed with gurgling of water. You scream in terror as the struggles stop, a small stain of blood growing where the waters were just disturbed. The other children stare, not realizing what happened. And then another suddenly sinks under the waters."

"I dream that Li-Varili may crush Her enemies, see them flooded into oblivion, and hear the lamentation of the Formation and Thieving Elders."

"I dream of a future when Li-Varili can know peace at last. Where Her enemies know turmoil and suffering, and She is free to revel in the joy of Her nereid and the lagoons, listening to enchanting nocturnes beneath a sunset-painted sky."

"I dream of floating in the calm lagoon waters, my eyes protected from the sun by the gentle shade of the mangrove trees strewn on the edge of the lagoon leading inland. A subtle shift in the current below hints at a passing body underwater, inquisitive bubbles floating up around you, until another shift tells you of its passing. The lagoon protects its own."

"I dream of oceans of blood. Sanguine waves crashing over beaches of crushed bones and skulls. Piles of viscera and gore piled high in honor of the Duke of a Thousand Screaming Hatreds, and mountains of bodies heaped upon the altars of the Lady of the Lagoons."

"I dream of a lush lagoon. The calm, clear aquamarine waters reveal the richness underneath, where brilliantly coloured corals shape intricate formations in the rocky bottom. Like flickering motes, vibrant fish swim between the fish, even as a menacing shadow appears for but a moment beneath one of the rocks. Leisurely swimming above the beautiful lagoon, nereids in all shades and hues sing together for the glory of the Lady of the Lagoons."

"I dream of friends having a picnic on the sandy beach. Soft, cool wind caresses their skin, protecting them from the heat. The gentle break of the waves provide background music to their conversations. One is working on a sand castle while another is preparing sandwiches for everyone. One sits just at the edge of the surf, giggling as the foam tickles their feet. The waterline though keeps receding, further and further into the sea. The gentle waves no longer reach their feet. Though the skies seem completely clear, a rumble comes from the sea."