"This is bad," Alara stated, her unease growing by the second. "Very bad," she added, her mind racing with possibilities.
"Yes," Yhulthad agreed, his posture relaxing slightly as Alara's panic seemed to eclipse his own. "As the three High Elders, we are to serve as judges, speaking and relaying the will of the Source." Alara took a moment to process the news, her mind reeling with the weight of their responsibility. "I think I know the verdict," she said softly, her gaze meeting Yhulthad's. "And I told Master Arioch," she added, her disbelief evident.
"When were you going to tell me?" Alara questioned, her frustration simmering beneath the surface.
"I thought Arioch would, but he had other matters to attend to," Yhulthad explained, his expression apologetic.
"Unbelievable," Alara remarked as she exited the carriage, her mind whirling with the enormity of the situation. "Of all the stupid things mortals could do, this one was massive," she thought to herself as she made her way into the castle, steeling herself for the unfortunate events that would unfold.
The weight of the impending trial hung heavy in the air. As Alara stepped into the grand halls of the castle, her mind still grappling with the startling revelations from Yhulthad. As she walked, the echoes of her footsteps seemed to reverberate with the gravity of the situation, each step a testament to the burden she carried as one of the three High Elders. In the heart of the castle, Alara found herself standing before a towering window, its panes adorned with intricate patterns that seemed to dance in the shifting light. Beyond the glass, the celestial sky stretched out in an endless expanse, a stark reminder of the vastness of the universe and the infinitesimal nature of mortal affairs.
Lost in thought, Alara gazed out at the celestial vista, her mind awash with a tumult of emotions. Fear, uncertainty, and determination warred within her, each vying for dominance as she grappled with the enormity of the task that lay ahead.
As she stood there, a soft voice broke through the silence, drawing her attention back to the present. It was Xalandra, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the swirling tempest of her thoughts. 'Welcome back.' he says solemnly.
She smiles as she faces her brother but her smile fades as she sees his worried look, 'What's wrong?' she asks.
"Saulste," Xalandra said, his voice heavy with concern. "He's gotten worse."
The words hung in the air like a death knell, each syllable a painful reminder of their collective failure to save those they held dear. Alara felt her chest constrict with a sense of helplessness, a wave of despair crashing over her like a tidal wave.
"Why did it all have to happen now?" she whispered, her voice barely a breath against the weight of her anguish. The walls of the castle seemed to close in around her, suffocating her with their oppressive presence.
As she gazed out at the celestial vista beyond the window, Alara's mind swirled with a tumult of emotions. Fear, grief, and guilt tangled together in a web of despair, each thread pulling her further into the depths of her own despair.
The image of Saulste haunted her thoughts, his once vibrant spirit now consumed by the darkness that threatened to engulf them all. She could still see the flicker of his eyes, the ghost of a smile that had once graced his lips, and it tore at her heart like a jagged wound.
"We were supposed to protect them," she thought bitterly, her mind consumed by the weight of their failure. "We were supposed to keep them safe."
But now, as she stood there in the grand halls of the castle, Alara couldn't shake the feeling that everything was slipping through her fingers.
"You should see him before...' Xalandra says and dares not finish the sentence. Alara's eyes fill with tears that threatened to spill. "Yes, i should." she manages to say as she follows her brother. Stepping into a dimly lit chamber, the sight before her brought a sharp pang of anguish to her heart. Saulste, once a beacon of wisdom and strength, now sat hunched in a corner, his form shrouded in shadows that seemed to mirror the darkness that had consumed his mind.
His eyes, once bright with life and laughter, were now dull and vacant, devoid of any semblance of recognition. They stared blankly into the distance, unseeing and unfocused, as if lost in some distant realm beyond the reach of comprehension.
The air was heavy with the stench of decay, mingling with the sour tang of fear and despair that seemed to cling to the walls like a palpable presence.
Saulste's once proud bearing had been reduced to a mere shell of his former self, his body trembling with each laboured breath as if struggling to hold onto the tenuous thread of existence.
Alara's heart broke at the sight of her old friend, his once vibrant spirit now ensnared in the grip of madness. She approached him slowly, her footsteps echoing hollowly in the silence of the chamber as she knelt beside him.
"Saulste," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "It's me, Alara. Can you hear me?"
There was no response, no flicker of recognition in Saulste's vacant gaze. He sat there unmoving, lost in the labyrinth of his own fractured mind, his thoughts a tangled web of confusion and despair.
Tears welled in Alara's eyes as she reached out to touch his trembling form, her fingers brushing against his clammy skin. She could feel the weight of his suffering, the weight of all the unanswered questions and unspoken fears that haunted his shattered psyche. "He hasn't eaten, he barely speaks," Xalandra's voice broke the silence, his words a harsh reminder of the reality they faced. "All he manages now is drooling."
Alara's heart ached at the sight of her friend's suffering, a silent plea echoing in the depths of her soul. She longed to reach out and pull him back from the brink, to banish the shadows that clouded his mind and restore him to the man he once was.
But as she sat there in the dim light of the chamber, Alara couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness that threatened to overwhelm her. The darkness that had consumed Saulste seemed to stretch out before her like an endless abyss, its depths unfathomable and its hold unyielding.
And as she sat there, her hand resting gently on Saulste's trembling form.
"Leave us," Alara pleaded to her brother, her voice barely more than a whisper as she stared into Saulste's vacant eyes.
Xalandra hesitated, his gaze lingering on his sister's anguished face before he reluctantly nodded and stepped out of the chamber, leaving them alone in the suffocating silence. Alara's heart felt heavy as she turned back to Saulste.
She reached out a trembling hand, brushing his cheek with a tenderness born of a lifetime of friendship and shared memories. "Saulste," she murmured, her voice choked with emotion. "It's me, Alara. Please, come back to me."
But there was no response, no flicker of recognition in Saulste's vacant gaze. He remained lost in the labyrinth of his own fractured mind, his spirit adrift in a sea of darkness from which there seemed to be no escape.
Tears welled in Alara's eyes as she pressed her forehead against his, her heart breaking with each laboured breath he took. She could feel the echoes of his suffering reverberating through her own soul, a haunting melody of despair that threatened to consume them both.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of her own sobs.