[Cursed Crone] Faint

What was life without occasional failure?

Arianwyn stared at the great monster, eyeing the Cursed Crone with narrowed gaze and snarled teeth. Though even she would admit to being a deeply selfish individual, in a time of crisis, she was not going to let innocent people suffer, and in that moment, innocents were suffering. The beast's talons were sharp, its corrupted, despicable actions causing harm to the local peoples. Already, Arianwyn had seen homes torn apart by sharpened talons, fields of crops dented with the impacts of tiny, dense asteroids. The former mage was destroying the lives of people who dwelled in this valley, and she believed it was mere moments before it took lives. She had to hope no one had fallen to the monster's talons so far and work her hardest to make sure it never had the opportunity. Though she had no clue how she would take the Cursed Crone down, she had to at least try. Protect the people and hope a solution would arise. It was far from her best plan, but in that moment, it was the best one she had.

Or, it would have been the best plan, if she had not managed to knock herself out with her own magic.

Her silver blood was as much a curse as it was a blessing; an aid, but, occasionally, her downfall. Overexertion was a constant danger when one's blood did not transport the oxygen it needed to efficiently, and passing out was a common hazard. However, with all the chaos around her, Arianwyn had practically forgotten about her own health risks. The adrenaline surging through her veins seemed to be making up for the tasks her blood alone could not manage, and she didn't care to question it. This would be her downfall.

Asteroid-bending –as she had spontaneously decided to call it—was a challenging task. Arianwyn may have been naturally attuned to elemental silver, but the asteroids were not pure. Each one contained a confusing, daunting mix of metals which seemed to cage the argentum within, distracting her the way loud conversation interrupted focused reading. She could do it, but even the thought of it made her vision begin to swim. Sensing the silver and using it to aid in telekinetically tossing the asteroids was no small feat, and though she had only managed one hit upon the Cursed Crone so far, she could already tell this trick would not last long. Yet, she had no time to rest—there was another asteroid aimed right at her. She sensed it before she could see it, the silver atoms within falling on to her radar subtly, but present. Summoning the magic to redirect it was a feat of brain and brawn; though her strength may have been powerful enough, calculating the trajectory necessary to redirect it back to the monster was a deeply demanding mental task. Paired with the magic to track the asteroid, well, it was not long before she felt herself wobbling on her hooves. With a grunt she wished had been more dignified, she pulled it off; redirecting the heavy metal spheroid back towards the raven-skulled beast, and promptly passed out.

The smell of fresh dirt hit Arianwyn first, followed by the tickle of grass on her nose. She blinked, expecting to see light above her, but finding only darkness—wasn't it morning yet? Why had the sun not risen? It took her a moment to realize that, when she looked up, she saw not her bedroom but the open skies of the river valley. Where the sun should have stood, there was only the eerie dusk of an accursed night. She was far, far from home. She was fighting a monster, and she was in danger.

Disorganized feet scrambled to find purchase, neck sore from where it had lodged awkwardly on a divot in the earth. Still, she was alive. A minor miracle, given she had passed out during a life-or-death battle.

At least, it seemed life or death to her. Given she was still alive and not actively being actively gored by a raven skull, perhaps the monster did not feel the same. Trying to steady the sway in her stance, Arianwyn found her way to her feet, and surveyed the landscape. She had no way of knowing how long she had passed out, but her heart sank to see her surroundings.

The nearby town—once so picturesque, of mud-brick houses overlooking the flat farming fields, was no more. Where structures once stood lay only rubble, knocked over with the same disregard one gave the block houses of children. Stones were scattered, and thatched rooftops lay scattered in the mud and dirt. And the people—Arianwyn's breath hitched as she looked for them, and she felt as though she might be sick again. The people were nowhere to be seen. Though she smelled no blood on the wind, that did not mean the residents were safe. She had left them in their trances to be cut down by a corrupt mage. She had failed to protect them, and their blood was on her hands.

Finding the monster on the horizon was not a difficult task. It did not merely hover in the sky, it boiled. The flap of shadowy wings, dark against a darkened sky, felt like a phantom descending from the heavens. Tendrils spun and flailed in every direction, as though they possessed minds of their own, free from the control of the Cursed Crone. And the eyes—oh, what Arianwyn would have given not to see the eyes. Their eerie green stare pierced her to her soul, and she knew in her heart that they saw her. She could not hide.

Arianwyn did not know why the monster did kill her while she lay in the dirt. Perhaps it thought she was already dead, or perhaps it concluded that she was no worth the effort. For better or for worse, she had been spared. The monster travelled on to a spot in the distance—her heart sank as she saw it was nearing another town. A village of more innocent people, more victims for the beast. Heart-wrenching wails echoed across the floodplain turned battlefield, and she could only hope they came from the beast and not from its victims.

Arianwyn knew she needed to stop the monster, somehow. She also knew that her magic alone would not be sufficient to fight it. As she shook her fur free of grass and debris, she read to resume her hunt. Though she longed to search for the town's residents, she had to hope to Grace that they were safe and hiding somewhere out of reach. If the monster was not stopped soon, more would fall to the Cursed Crone.