“And one day she will blast away the Tyrans and the Gray alike and our lungs will fill with fresh air again…” – She was talking about those fairytales again.
He had long given up on these illusions, but he quite enjoyed her company. Listening to her soothing voice, the expressions on her gentle face, her passion, … He could forget the world for a few moments, this gray and cruel world.
In reality, there was no one to save them, no magical wind, no goddess… only toxins, poisons and dirt around them.
“And they say you can find a celestial healer at the Kumungu mountains - *cough* *cough*”. Black and red mixed in her handkerchief.
She is a pneuma-tube runner, he knew her lungs are slowly giving in. She was still so young, and such a good person, unlike him, gladly he would give his life for the power to save hers.
Birth and death, for Soraka, the threads of fate could be read from the night sky. But the cosmic order was shaking, she did come down to see what was creating the chaos. And she didn’t need to look for long. Humans had given up harmony, to pursue their greed and pride. All the while slaughtering life, without remorse. She tried to repair, what she could, but with every step north the chaos increased.
To Warwick the whole room looked like chaos. The instruments, the flasks, the corpses. He knew the promise was a trap, but he knew that one part was not a lie, he would gain power. If it would mean a better future for her, he was willing to make sacrifices. But as the mad man started his quest, he realized he might spoke to soon. A red lake on the floor, green fluid pumped into his veins, were that his fingers on that table? The pain blurred his vision and finally his consciousness would fade. He would awake, not knowing how much time had passed. Surrounded by corpses, he made his way to the end of the pile, suddenly stopping.
Shaking, he saw the face of his companion. But ever so slightly her chest moved up and down, giving him a spark of hope. Not knowing any better approach, he took her and ran. He was faster and could jump higher than ever before. Soon he reached the limits of the city. And then he smelled something unique, something reminding him of old stories. So, he decided to follow the trail and there he saw her.
Like the horrifying creature before her, Soraka stopped for a moment. She was bewildered by the view. He was obviously in pain, but he probably didn’t realize it yet. Warwick stepped towards her, he said that she must be the celestial healer. And he begged her to help the young girl in his arms. But Soraka knew, her star had already lost its last light. She could only offer to treat his pain. But Warwick was not listening anymore, he stepped back, slowly, empty minded, the girl still in his arms.
Some town-people surrounded him. They started to beat him with sticks, clubs, everything they could find. Out of fear of his appearance or because they wanted the steel in his body, he didn’t care for their reasons, nor did he care about his own death. She was dead, that’s what was shrouding his mind.
But Soraka could barely watch the senseless slaughter, she felt his strong emotions towards the recently passed. The stars pleaded with her not to intervene with his destiny, but how could she just watch this? So she called down a blinding flash of light and forced the attackers to flee. Rushing to treat his wounds, she felt her celestial form fading. Using her powers to intervene, meant severing the ties to the cosmic sphere.
But to her own surprise, Soraka was not upset. For the first time she felt somewhat part of the world, she felt emotion, existence. To Warwick, his existence meant nothing, he lost her, he could’ve died then and there, it wouldn’t have made a difference to him. In his sadness, he seeked comfort, reaching out his arms to his helper. But only now he realized his new form, the claws on his hands.
They drilled into Sorakas rips, missing her heart only so slightly. Flesh, Pain, Fear. This all was new to Soraka. She couldn’t tell Warwicks intentions, the stars would not offer her guidance anymore. The feeling of betrayal let the rage in her grow. These creatures, so much hatred in their hearts. So she called again upon the power of the stars to protect her now mortal body.
And Warwick felt it again, all the pain, the sorrow. And it clicked, the pump pressed the green fluid into his body. He didn’t choose to be a monster, he thought to himself. But if this world wants one, he shall give it to them.
The story of two, so different, yet so similar.
Warwick, who gave up his humanity to seek the power.
Soraka, who gave up power to free herself from cosmic Impartiality.
The beast and the celestial, but are they not also so much human?