Nyx PoV
There was a swirling mass of withering darkness. Not unfamiliar to Nyx, yet it feels closer somehow, more desperate in its attempts to ensnare her. She instinctively reached for her meditative techniques and swatted the grasping tendrils away, albeit a few more times than usual. A glimmer out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Then she was conscious of the skin on her forehead drawing into a frown. Her mind resided in the place just above sleep, but also just below awakening.
Strange, she thought. In all her encounters with the abyssal tendrils, she can't recall light ever being present -
Everything she was shaking, or more specifically, her body was bumping around against walls to either side. The tendrils receded and she willed herself awake. Dull sounds flitted to her ears; metal clanking and shearing screeches. She forced her eyes open and peered through - a window?
Where am I?
She squinted at her surroundings; she was trapped in a vessel of some sort. Searching hands pressed against the glass trying to find a seam, a leverage point, anything to get out. Nothing gives. She couldn't recall how she got here, but everything in her screamed to get out. Another bruising hit sent her into the side of the container. The dull thuds and screeching metal became louder. She hazily made out several pods through the glass, likely similar to her current container, and a pool in the centre of the chamber.
She winced when memories magically pierced her mind: A mind flayer ship, people screaming, running in the streets, suddenly swept up by tentacles before her as she frantically sought a place to hide.
The memory sears into another: A mind flayer moving towards her with a tadpole clenched by its tail between talons. She fruitlessly fights against her restrains and mercilessly watched while the mind flayer introduced the parasite into her eye.
Another explosion abruptly jerked her from the memory - her pod became dislodged from its holding, falling to the side, sending her crashing into her shoulder when it met the ground. Her mind reeled between the all-to-real-memories, her current deteriorating predicament, and the chaos unfolding outside.
Focus, there's got to be a way out!
Steeling herself against the blooming pain in her shoulder, and the scratching across the inside her skull - she attempted to find purchase within the pod again. A fire had sprung up somewhere and was steadily building at the opposite side of the chamber. It sputtered and spread quickly towards the pod. Its heat growing.
Abyss take it!
Panic clutched at her insides - and panic combined with her powers were never a good combination. Less so in confined spaces. She scrambled against the walls, scratched against the glass - she had no choice but to use her magic. She planted her feet at either side of the glass pane and braced herself against the back of the container - outstretched hands reaching towards the glass and her magic answered. The force reverberated, bouncing off the glass back into Nyx, flinging her head backwards against metal.
"Shit!", she groaned, holding her head momentarily. She calmed her frying nerves by studying the glass with a gentler probing of magic - the glass, it seems, was resistant to magic.
Abyss take me.
Dread gripped at her throat when the inferno became her all-consuming view, sweat dripping from her as the pod became her oven.
Focus. Think, she steeled herself against the heat, Can't lose control. Deep breaths Nyx.
She sucked in stifling air. It was uncomfortable and felt hot enough to burn her lungs.
Again. Another breath. She closed her eyes and reached out with her magic, scanning the inside of the pod. A slight distortion was forming in the glass.
The heat! The same heat that threatened to kill her, might just be her saviour! It was buckling the glass and if it weakens enough - she can attempt to blast her way through again.
She opened her eyes and fixed her gaze on the area of the distortion. She took up her position once more and poured all her focus into her magic - holding it poised as she would her bow with a nocked arrow. She held her breath listening to the glass strain under the heat, flames ever closer in the view beyond. She waited with waning patience, for what felt like an eternity. At last, there was a final pop and a deep crack ran across the glass, splintering into hairlines.
It signalled the release of her magic - its force shattering the glass outwards and the wave continued to ripple through the flames ahead. She clawed herself from the pod, crawling over the broken glass. It cut into her exposed ankles. She paid little heed to the warm liquid running into her shoes, scrambling to her feet and darting along the path her magic created while it momentarily snuffed the flames in its wake. The flames were quickly reclaiming the lost ground, closing in behind her. Her initial blast was slowing down too, loosing strength and she reached out to reinforce it.
Something squirmed in her head again followed by searing pain blazing through her mind. She saw through another's eyes: Visions of a battle. Fending off a red skinned fiend. A call for help, ship controls...
The vision was cut short by heat and pain lapping at her legs. It had brought her to her knees and the flames had seized their opportunity. Her right leg was on fire. Panic and fear intermingled with her magic and a whirlwind of force erupt from her; smothering the flames on her leg and encasing her in a protective sphere.
I can't keep expending magic like this. Her hair whipped at her face while she frantically searched an escape through bleary eyes, but all she could see was a wall of orange flames, tongues lapping all the way to the ceiling. She was utterly trapped.
Am I to die here? Like this? Tears welled up with the closing of her throat. The skin at the back of her neck crawled while those insistent black tendrils creeped their way back into her mind alongside her mounting fear and desperation.
The abyss take the lot of you! You cannot have me! I'd rather let my magic rip me apart than succumb to any of you!
Suddenly furious and defiant, Nyx stood up on her trembling, bleeding and burnt legs. The floor was shaking, and it sent her flailing to keep her balance. She yelped, her wounds protesting loudly, and her protective sphere rapidly contracted in response. She regained her balance with significant effort, throwing her hands out towards her sphere and stopped its collapse. Her magic whooshed around her, lashing her hot wet hair against her sweat drenched face. The heat was pressing up all around her and the flames roared. Her head was throbbing, from her magic exertion, the visions, its new unwelcome resident, and the increasingly unbearable heat. Through clenched teeth she slowly inched forward, carefully dividing her attention between the unstable floor and her protective shield. Wilfully blocking out everything else; the pain, the noise, the chaos.
One breath, one step, she repeated, seeking a wall to follow out of the chamber.
To a hopefully less fiery fate. She frowned once more while keeping her eyes on the floor and her feet.
Humour? At a time like this? Well, I've never claimed to be sane.
Before she could finish chuckling at herself, the floor violently careened. Nyx, her sphere, and the entire flaming world were all upended at once. Her feet had barely left the floor when she was yanked into another vision of the same strange ship controls, the tentacles connecting, the ships magic engines engaging - all the while she was hurdling through a sea of orange. Sheer confusion and bewilderment grappled with her mental and physical dissonance. The black tendrils returned with their ever-vile beckoning. This rendered her unable to distinguish between the visions, reality and the impeding darkness that was encroaching on her sight. Instead, she retreated her consciousness into her magic - the only thing she could trust right now. Her ever constant and somewhat moody companion. By extension, she reached out to her sphere.
Instinctively closing her eyes, and her body curled itself up while it continued its uncontrolled aerial tumble. She was only vaguely aware of her now distant body and shrunk her sphere down. Stretching the remainder of her power like a coating over her body, making it as thin as possible, yet dense and strong. By grace she hoped it would be strong enough. Nestled within her magic, she clung to it like a drowning sailor would flotsam and she braced herself for whatever came next – an impact, or perhaps even death. I'm not particularly picky at the moment, all things being considered equal...
