Ember Wind: Online

The Depths of Darkness

December 17, 2042...

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Tangurple ventured south once more. Winter arrived with the first big snow now deploying right on top of him. He was out of his armor, dressed in casual wear. Discolored linen shirts and pants which had seen better days. He traveled south that day far past the lake, to the border which Falcher had once said showed no sign of her.

Beyond the lake and field of tall grass was a large rocky barren wasteland of grey mass. Stone spires reached for the stars, shards of broken rock were scattered about. As the clumps of thick snow fell upon the cold lands of Uskor's southernmost reaches, Tangurple sat silently amongst the company of the rock whose ages suggested they'd seen it all. Not one tree grew in this vast grey land. According to Rothguard, this area was an old quarry which belonged to the nobles on the other side of the wall.

Snow fell and dusted the rocky terrain, decorating it in shiny white sparkles. The usually bright sun was masked by the darker clouds of the coming blizzard that every winter always promised. For now, it was light and fluffy but a storm was brewing not too far away.

Tangurple unequipped his necklace and held it by the rock which clung to the silver chain. He stared at it with a sad and disheartened smile. One that could only be described as a feeling of both regret and longing. The rock glowed no more. The blue glow that emitted from its cracks had dulled and faded away leaving behind only the stone itself and the memories it once held. His emotions fought heavily for the control over his mind, creating a combination of feelings that only one in this situation could ever understand.

Regret turned to sadness, sadness to fear, fear to anger, anger to regret; it became an endless cycle that repeated itself for hours on end. Falcher, Creoft, Dailin knew not where he was and for him, he believed that was right. He clenched his fist, digging the stone into the palm of his hand. He readied himself to throw it into the blizzard winds of this spiteful winter but halted just before the release. Something in the back of his mind made him uneasy about letting go so easily. Was it hope? Fear? He wasn't sure. He lowered his hand and dropped the stone into his bag, the visual simulation of the inventory mechanic.

As it sank to the bottom of his inventory, he noticed his journal once again and with a weak smile, pulled it out and held it. Since July, he held onto this leather bound book as if it was his ticket home. He flipped open the cover which held the table of contents and the current number of pages. He'd written a lot, covered nearly every detail of his journey through this imprisonment in the digital world.

He read his earliest entries from when he found the book in Swampmaw. He watched the flashbacks come and go in his eyes as he read the words of his former self. "Things have truly changed, haven't they?" He muttered to himself. He looked up towards the sky and watched it slowly grow darker. "The gates of paradise are fading from reach, it would seem."

He laid down, propping his head up against a rock. Time unto itself seemed to slow down as his perception became introverted; that is until a familiar face approached him.

Falcher spent the day traveling south and when he reached the stone flats, he began his search for Tangurple. It didn't take long for him to find the kid. Falcher sat down beside Tangurple.

Tangurple reluctantly acknowledged Falcher's presence with a careless growl. "What do you want?"

Falcher didn't respond right away. Instead, he let the mood get awkward before speaking. "Is this it?"

Tangurple looked up at the gnoll. "Is what it?"

"This the conclusion to your long search for Night?"