nightmare

Basil falls into a deep sleep...


To feel sleepy... To feel tired...
To feel yourself slipping away.
...From...
Reality.


Yet; how can you still be awake when you are asleep? These are thoughts that would cross anyone's mind when everything around them seems so real.

A dream... One filled with blood, one filled with bodies. Hanging from the ceiling, dangling above both of them. And a table, cushions set out for both of them to sit on. Henrietta is sat on the one opposite of him, not smiling or frowning.

But those bodies, each of them had an identity. Grunbeld, Cayden, Virgil, Owyn, Del. Even some that were still alive hung, creaking as they swung slowly back and forth. Kofe, Tea, Penelope, Dornar, Basten. Every single hanging body had a face, it had a personality... But as they hung in this dreamlike world? They had nothing, they were empty.


"Sit."


She asks, pouring herself a drink. Unphased or uncaring of those bodies hanging from the ceiling, despite one of them not hanging at all. One body took the seat in between herself and Basil, and that was Tiernay.

It was probably obvious, what this was about.
(Henrietta Monroe)

His heart was filled with ache a moment ago.

Reminded of him taking the life of Tiernay; for the truth is, he was desperate to hear from his brother that he would like another chance, that he would like to reconcile, that he wants to live. And yet, no matter how much Basil dragged it out, even directly asking him whether he just wants to die...

He never heard a simple statement.
'I want to live.'

What he awakens to is the dream of blood, of the nightmares that are placed upon the faces of the people of his past, present and even future. For while there's a steady observation made to it all.. he seems largely unaffected. Why?

"The nightmares of Vro'diark.."

He was never the same after facing that creature. Was that one of the Dark Lords? Do they even exist in multiple numbers? Or was that Shaytan of incredible strength, commanding the armies of Nethradin? In all truth, until this day, he wasn't sure what exactly he faced. What he knew is..

It was a creature of Helheim.
One that possessed almost similar powers.

His gaze drifts towards Henrietta. He seems somewhat.. surprised to see her. He seems uncertain as to why she would even want to see him this way.

Did she decide ahead of time to attack him here? To test her might against him? Or to simply speak?

Whatever the case, he merely walks over to take a seat; soon enough, he faces directly against the woman, but what follows is not the name that she's grown to call her own.

"Hello, Nox."
(Basil)

"You know that's a fake name." Moving a hand over to the quiet sitting of Tiernay's empty shell, she brushes her fingers through his hair. "My name is Henrietta Monroe, but if we wanted to get technically... You can call me Henrietta Mimes, saved by a coven when I was lost. Given a family that aided me, and treated me as if I held great potential."

Taking a cup, and even trying to give him a drink. But most of its content falls down his chest, before completely vanishing into the air. "And I am sure you know I am going to kill you, Basil. False king of Alabaster, false friends of those that supported him for years."

She wasn't going to lie, he was going to die. "And if you don't die quickly? I'll just start killing those around you, as you can't keep them all close... Right?"

Placing the cup down again, the Scythe hanging from her back begins to hum. An odd melody that rings out throughout the room, causing the walls to vibrate and even the water to bubble. A need for essence, a hunger unlike any other.

"I wanted to ask you why first... Why would you take him away from me? A free man, to do as he pleased. He never wronged anyone, even while by my side. Despite him being so loyal to me, it was love... And nothing more, he could have left whenever he wanted. But he never killed anyone unreasonably, and I never forced him to do anything. So why? Why kill someone who has no problems or issues? And even if you thought so, why would you do it?"

Tilting her head to one side, she frowns. "Even if you felt like he wasn't himself, you could have taken him in and tried your best to sway him. But instead, you killed him... Because you were afraid, weren't you? Afraid because they made you what you are, and without them to start you'd be nothing. Still a rat in the city, most likely in the sewers too."

Eyebrows furrowing, she leans in a little. "Admit it."
(Henrietta Monroe)

Seething.

In silent rage. For while she does not shout, she does not cry out in anger, the words and actions that she speaks of are anything but calm- and he can tell of that; but truthfully, Basil is by far done feeling much about it all. He is by far done with standing idle when something like this happens..

And even when the drink spills upon him, only to vanish, all while hearing her words.

"So much anger.."

"Careful. You might lose it and do something terribly unwise."

Is it the experience of the Rhoynish King? To know to stay calm around the creatures of the dark? Perhaps. Or maybe, that's merely a message to Henrietta- that all which she says has little to no effect against him.

"You will have a chance soon enough to face me, I'm sure." A promise of what's about to be completed- something that ought to put the end to witches for good..

Or end tohis life.

"It is my duty as Rhoynur to oppose you, and all that serve you. The only reason I had ignored you for a while is Mars.. because she possesses heart far bigger than anybody in this world deserves." Even him.

"She's too kind. Too good - but there comes a time when I don't listen to anybody, even to her. There comes a time when I do what I must."

The only thing that ever seems to affect him is mulling over the death of Tiernay. From absolute calmness, there seems to be..

Sorrow.

"He could not be swayed.."

"And you know that, too."

His gaze drifts elsewhere. For while she asks all these questions, while she claims that she could tear the world apart for him..

"I asked him to reconcile. I asked him to give another life a chance - one where he does not aid you in the things that directly threaten our livelihood and thousands of people."

"Such as meteorite." A pause, to which he adds.

"He could live freely, even after our fight. He could still do what he wants - so long as he never aids such dark rituals ever again. And I asked him.."

"Tiernay, do you not want to live?"

No other words follow. His lips idly purse and where his gaze bounces from the floor, to the figures, to the empty shell of Tiernay, and finally back to Henrietta..

"You can guess his answer."

But to say that he wanted to kill him because he was afraid would be terribly wrong. If anything, he doesn't even entertain the idea of killing him for that reason..

Instead, he gazes upon her, almost expectantly.
(Basil)

"Anger?"

She tilts her head to the side, blinking. "Do you think there is anything unwise I can do? What about I bring something toppling down and crush Alabaster? Maybe it'll happen when you're asleep... And Mars will die too?"

Humming, she brings a finger up to tap her chin. "It wouldn't be too difficult to do, as I could walk into the middle of your little pathetic settlement. And sacrificing my own life? It sound's quite grand, as I would be returned to Hel and so will all that die too."

Shaking her head, she grins. "It is unwise, isn't it? To assume I am just angry, no... I am much more than anger itself, and Wrath does not compare to the hunger I feel. You've unhinged me, Basil... And death is nothing but retirement for me when I take many down with me in the process."

But his reasoning, it only brings a tired look to her face. To hear that it's in his blood to act, but wasn't it too late now? All those times he could have done something, he stood by idle and even observed their demons feast.

"You are nothing but a liar, a filthy disgusting nobody. You stood by and watched others get beat down, and don't blame it on Mars either. You could have acted at any moment, but you are a coward and hid behind a false façade. Trying to play friendly, acting as if nothing was wrong. But all this time, you were simply scared of those results."

Each of those hanging bodies begins to whisper, each of them muttering those words. 'Coward, coward, coward.' 'Liar, liar, liar.' Constantly, even the empty shell of Tiernay sat on the cushion mutters it. Echoing throughout the hellish landscape filled with darkness.

"You could have locked him up, and killed me first. You could have spoken to him, but you don't care. Do you hear me, Basil, you don't care about anybody. Owyn is practically dead and killed by Osrona, and you can't even blink an eyelash in his direction. Did you even tell Mars yet? Maybe hiding more information from her too? Del had been in Alabaster for years, and talked with you all and even helped the city at times. But you've thrown every piece of family and friends you've had under the beast to be devoured."

Laughing, every single body present would copy her words now. Each of them saying it word for word. "Who's next? Urizen? Osiris? Maybe we should put Mars next, it's not like you would care. You don't care for any of them, and more for an undeserving title you've labeled yourself with."


"So I am going to kill you... And anything you love."

(Henrietta Monroe)

The cacophony of thousand whispers.

Echoing around him, speaking of the mistakes of the past that he's done; for while much of it was false, some of it does indeed touch upon his mind, if only briefly- for all the things that happened between their family, for all the things that happened in the past..

He does hold these sorrows, doesn't he?

What he doesn't want to feel, however, is regrets.. and while these furious words of admonishing him leave the mouth of the witch, the Rhoynur continues to stare off elsewhere- to the empty shell of Tiernay, to the voices that speak of his failures and the things he could've done sooner. It could shake the strongest man..

And it is here that his resolve is tested.

He could've prevented many things. He could've chosen to lock up Tiernay after what he said- but he chose otherwise. He didn't act for the longest time, and while his eyes close for a moment in such thought..

What re-emerges are the golden eyes, piercing with their gaze upon Henrietta.

"Very interesting, Henrietta.."

"To think that I would listen to the ramblings of a witch."

His resolve remains unshaken.
Where she hoped to sink him in regrets..
She fails.

"Your ilk specialize in this- to get in the hearts and minds of men and ruin them from inside out."

"You won't get in my head."

Ironically, all of these things she speaks of almost happened. The death of Mars which almost happened twice - and each time he saved her. The fall of Alabastre, which almost happened numerous times on different occasions.. and even the fall of his friends which he cherished once..

Could she not understand?

She deals with the warrior of Njorun- they're the natural predators of the dark; the natural killers of it.

"Your threats are empty."

"Act on them now, or face me on the other side. But remember this, witch.."

He leans forward upon the table, where his golden eyes stare upon her, what flickers is something that nobody wishes to see.

The murderous intent of the Rhoynur.

"I will kill you."

"And then, me or my ancestors will kill you a second time in Helheim."

"You will never have peace."
(Basil)

"Do you think this is a trick or a ploy? Do you think I am trying to cripple you mentally? You've done that yourself, as you are more deranged and self-centered than anyone else. Delusional in fact... Like all, I have shown you is facts and the truth... But sometimes, even those stupid such as yourself can't realize where the true corruption is coming from."

In the end, all those on Esshar were delusional. They all heard evil and corruption and focused on what people named. Ignoring those around them, ignoring their actions. None knew how to punish themselves, and even if the Witches inherently were bad, they knew when they stepped out of line for their Lord.

Did they ever realize for themselves? For the Church? For whatever the Rhoynish looked up to. None of them did, none of them knew when they were wrong. Going off from the books, not from what they felt.


"It's disgusting, how wrong you all are."


Pushing up from her seat, she brings a hand back to the neck of her Scythe. Drawing the blade forwards, twisting it around in her grasp. The clear vibrations that cause even your body to quake, shows just how desperate this weapon was for combat.

"Dearest blackened stars, shine upon me with your gleam. I feel the cherished smile of Eudocia and the name that guides the edge of my blade. Come down upon thy, and claim upon their soul. Bring it to me, and let it wash over my body. Such beautiful essence, as butterflies dance vividly throughout the darkness. That shining light that many see as a beacon of hope, is only the final light before I deem their souls worthy for thou."

Cosmic flutters up around her body, gold sucked away by the presence of darkness. As such orbs of light form, with such a blackened aura that shimmers over her form.

Bright white butterflies flutter around her, causing sucha darkened aura to be beautiful. Leaving specs of stardust behind, and a sense of overwhelming pressure causing anybody to feel like gravity itself is pulling them down. The world around them changes, to an open vast sea of blood. The hanging bodies now float, each of them gazing up at them both.


"Fall."


She whispers, before preparing to charge forwards.
(Henrietta Monroe)

They will never see eye to eye.

The reasons to which have been listed time and time again.. and while the two of them remain the opposite sides to each other, there's something she must understand - that he desired to see her bleed out just as much as she desired to see him fall. And with these words spoken..

"Enough talk."

But what he witnesses is the nightmare itself manifesting around him- the way how this realm changes to be shaped into something truly terrifying, if only for the fact that this could become the death of one of them..

Even if it's locked within the realm of dreams.

"The witches are a parasite on this world."

"You were a parasite upon Tiernay." A grave insult to the witch, but is there any sense in going light upon another? Is there any meaning to it, when both of them would kill each other the second they get opportunity to?

"This boy, Kari.."

"He was right. I should've killed you a long time ago. I should've embraced my role of a surgeon to this world much sooner."

"And cut you out."

Here, the rosegold starlight shimmers- a contrast to the magic that she evokes. Overcharging, burning, like an overheated supernova that could result in the eradication of all that stands before his way, and even then..

"Die, vermin."

There would no more words.

Only bloodshed.
(Basil)

Henrietta Monroe has been defeated by Basil! They're unable to continue fighting.

Ferocious.

Of all things, there are myriad dark beings that could attest to a single thing they would not want to ever see- for the spiritual guardian did not lie when he said that it is his duty to push against the dark and to cut it out wherever it dwells. But.. to say that it would be easy?

It would be wrong.

Instead, what comes about is the constant struggle against the flames of the witch that intend to incapacitate the Rhoynish- where they try to put him down and ensure that he could not escape the grasp of her light, the manifestation of all that the dark fears shows through.

The golden eyes, filled with murderous intent.
And a blood-chilling war cry.

It is akin to a howl of a beast- and it might as well be exactly that; he faced against Dopplegangers and tore them apart in combat, and had they not fled, their deaths would be right there; and the only thing that separates the two is the fact that they fight among the nightmares.

The only thing that makes it not real.
Not yet.

"I'll tear you apart." For as much as she burns and singes the Rhoynur, unfortunately to her, it seems to do little to stop him in his tracks. It seems to be just not enough..

Until she's beaten, forced to the ground.

Imbued with starlight, the hands refuse to leave her frame- the shots of it are fired into her body up close, leaving the puddles of blood that only adds to existing mass; and while she may have expected it to go differently..

This has turned into her own nightmare.

"I'll destroy everything you worked for."

He tears at her face. At her throat, at her shoulders, melting off and stripping off the flesh, one by one. It's in these moments that the Rhoynur almost reverts to his primordial function..

To eliminate the servants of the Dark Lord.

"Die."

He doesn't stop tearing away at her. Massacred at the hands of the angered Rhoynish, the last thing she sees is being torn apart by Basil..

In his own dream realm.

In her own nightmare.
(Basil)

If anything was clear, it was that she did not have control over such a dark star yet... And it ate away at her each time she used it, causing her body to weaken slightly. No control over such magic only backfired, but she can't help but bring out such horrific touches of the Darkness.

She was hungry, and she would not stop until she had successfully struck them down. Even if not now, she would do everything in her power to slowly work her way to him. Even if it meant killing others, he would eventually die or lose everything.


But it's clear its not enough.


Even when her magic slams against his form, able to tear down flesh and rip through the muscle. Leaving his body torn and ripped, blood spewing out of his wounds. That cry of the Rhoynish causes him to push on, causes him to keep moving in a way that threatens her.

A slight move back, but it's far too late. Caught by the Rosegold sprinkles of stardust that scatter across tender flesh, breaking away at her body and pushing her back.

The beams that threaten to pierce through her frame sputter her crimson onto the ground below, adding to the pool of deceased bodies that watch in amusement. But it wasn't until he thought such control over a nightmare was his, as even in her times of losing... This dream would never belong to him.

Beaten down, torn and ripped apart. The flesh begins to fix itself up against her body, adjusting and turning her back to normal. And even in a downed, stressed, and damaged state. She can't help but laugh, cackling loudly throughout the whole dream. Even bells in the darkness begin to jingle and jangle... Rattling against your brain, causing even a headache.

"Lost... But that means little. This was simply a test, in the end, surely you knew that? If you were smart, you'd of thrown it to lure me into your domain. But no, you've shown memy limits... And I won't be dead here."

Staggering up to stand, she brings her Scythe up into the air. The bloodied water from the ground begins to twirl... As if planning to suck Basil into the center, but instead it rises. Like a tornado of blood, it wraps around the form of Henrietta and consumes her existence. Bodies hanging out of its edges, glaring down at the winner of the fight.

If anything, this was a bad omen... For what was to come next, was unpredictable of such a crazed woman. But from behind him, a sweet whisper can be heard... As the body of Henrietta leans into his back, hands resting on his shoulders.


"I'll just kill everything you love, until I can kill you."


And with those final words, it's like a switch... Basil would awaken back where he fell asleep in Alabaster.
(Henrietta Monroe)

The crimson storms.

For as much as Henrietta taunts him even as she loses, as much as she reforms within the Dreamworld, he can only see the disappearance of the witch amidst this storm- and while she remarks of such thing, in the end..

He knows that they would meet again.

The appearances of the nightmare realm crashing down would only give him a single clue - that he disrupted her, that it took plenty of her strength to reform and she can sustain this no longer. Instead, the only mutter leaves his lips is..

"I'll kill you a thousand more times if I have to."

With those final words, he seems to awaken. In unknown position, unknown place.. but instead, with a headache that represents the tiredness from fighting another in such combat, even in the Dreamscape.

He looks around.

It seems the nightmare was over. For now.
(Basil)