morok's death

Tenacity, it is seemingly the only redeeming factor that he's inhabited from the waters which dance about his feet. The waves adapt, and with every motion that leads him closer to the demon.

Defeat, after defeat. It truly was a fate that he'd grown to taste time and time again, yet even now as he stares his opponent down, there's nothing that crosses his mind other than the necessity to come through. To see his blade finally reach its mark and cleave through the doubts which mercilessly hang over his head.

And with a roar, would Morok find himself utterly unable to maintain that gap set between them many years before. The tides roar as they cleave into his flesh, blood coerced to flow from his open wounds whenever a fresh wound is endured.

Until finally, Morok is downed, and an ever shaken Saewyn struggles to tower over him, blade poised and ready to strike.

"I look, and look, and I've grown aware of the scourge brought about bynot but your silver tongues and fascination for chaos. Tell me, the same desperation I've felt in my youth. Do you even have the capacity to feel it as I had?"
(Saewyn)

Strength.

For many years, Morok witnessed its presence- and its lacking- he witnessed the growth and decline of humans all around. For many years, he's found himself able to push people to something greater, to something much better..

A pity the same did not happen to him.
At least, not all the way through...

The shadows dance; the metaphysical wrap intends to tie Saewyn up within the net that could potentially bring him down and assure victory for the Ascended in this dance of fate- but as far as he could tell, this was no longer possible. With every roar of the waters, with every slash..

He can't keep up anymore.

A sword driven into his chest, and the blood spills- for a moment, Morok's eyes widen. Shock overtakes his body, the pain that he could not fathom to exist before cripples him - it takes a good moment for him to look at the sword embedded in his chest, one that is soon pulled out.

There's a scream...
Am I dying? Already?

"I--" This feeling of encroaching death. This feeling of utter defeat. It's strange... because every single fall of Morok, he would brush himself so terribly close to it, so..

Pitiful. Maybe he is holding them back.

"Haah… ha ha.."

"I've... I've found him... the best specimen.."

He struggles not to let the pain contort his face. He struggles to smile... but he cannot. Each time that fingers trace upon his wound, the pain overwhelms him.

"But you.."

"You still don't understand.. do you?"

The snake-eyes look up to Saewyn. At this point, the Serpent does not dare plead for his life- it is the decision that will be left to the knight - but he will not beg for it.


"Desperation.."

".. is all I've ever felt."


The grass is stained by his blood. His gaze looks up to the skies, and when the blues of the dusk are overshadowed by the stars and the Moon above..

At last, he can smile.

"I have.."

"Felt hatred for humanity. For all the times they've abused me... tried to kill me. Even this traitor of yours, Yuri.."

"Tried to butcher me when I was a tiny snake - I could hardly speak back then, let alone be a threat. But.."

"You, humans.. you don't need death. Death won't change you."

He could kill so many. He could count so many, whose lives he could simply take the moment that they would be taken by them all.

"Roland.. Mo'Cha.. Tea.."

"I could kill them all, you know? Many of my kin would even tell me to.. but what's the point? How can I ever bring humanity to something greater, something better, if I merely become their butcher.."

"How can I make them something.."
"That I don't have to hate?"

This evolution, this strive to perfect them..

It would be his undoing, it seems. The Serpent returns his gaze- from the skies, and onto the knight.

"I am fortunate.."

"To have witnessed you grow. Perhaps, you'll break the mold one day - but I'm afraid like this, I will never be able to push humanity forward. Like this.."

"You will be left to your nightmares."

The nightmares among the Demonkind that would seek to kill them all. And yet, the Serpent looks up again- the sky full of stars, the Moon that could overshadow everything about them, and yet..

"The sun.."

".. is already down, knight."

"It is time you decide."
(Morok)

"Perhaps..."

Compassion is all one could truly feel even in times where the world bears itself down upon him. The harrowing days in which he'd settled out by the lake, only to be aggressed by beasts time and time again.

Injured, bitten, torn into... Forced to tears by those whom he believed he trusted. Even now, their faces reflect within the eyes of a being that could only hope to see progress through the suffering of others.

Or at least, that is how it reflects upon the mage whom has peered into the lake that is his stirring emotion.

"Though all the same would I die so they won't. This nightmare, it has been bittersweet..." The roaring tides dance about the tip of his blade, compressed into a majestic spear which is comprised with not but all his might.

"Though I've learned to love despite all the hate you bear." The edge of his blade is driven forth to spear into the demon's neck, raging waters drilling into the earth to live little of what lied beneath its trajectory.

"Farewell."
(Saewyn)

This would no longer be his realm of concern.

Instead, it would be the subject of nightmares from the rest of the Demonkind. From beyond, he would watch- from beyond, he would seek to peer into the chaos that would be created, now that Barsburg has arrived. Do they not see?

Without someone to guide them..
Humanity will stagnate.

The only regret he has is that he will never accomplish this dream. Of all things, he would only close his eyes- there was no more strength to resist this, no more willpower left to avoid all that could potentially bring him to a second chance.

No. It's over.

"Farewell."

The last sound he would make.
(Morok)