i am the mace, the map, the fall and the high
It is easy to see why they whisper of this dark god. Even without his gifts of insight, Reave would be able to see it. He has found a great deal of chaotic power in the world, but it is paltry in comparison to what stands before him now. And for a moment (just a single breath), he wonders if he has made a mistake.
But isn’t life made up of mistakes? He would not turn back now.
It is not a large group that assembles. Sharp blue eyes rake over Elliana’s familiar form when she crests the mountainous path, something almost bestial in that avid glance of his. He grins at her, unable to prevent himself. It seems only natural that they would find one another yet again as they stand on the precipice of such dangerous discovery.
With that impish grin on his mobile lips, he slips easily alongside her, eyes glittering behind the glow of his mask. “Are you lost, little bird?”
He nearly laughs when he turns to see the familiar moon-marked face of his nephew joining them. He cannot imagine his brother would be thrilled to learn of his presence here, though Reave would certainly not be the one to tell him of it. It might have been amusing to call a familiar greeting to Bolder simply to watch the confusion light his features, but they hardly have time for that now.
As Carnage begins on a story, Reave’s gaze jumps to him, considering his words with an almost idle demeanor. In truth, his thoughts are anything but idle. He knows the story, of course, though he imagines there are those who do not. The years have been long and memory is such a fickle thing.
As the ground sags before them, buckling beneath a force far beyond his own, his bright eyes flick only briefly to the shifting earth. The dark god expresses his curiosity plainly, but the bone-clad stallion cannot help but wonder if there is something else behind it. A hunger more insidious than a simple desire for discovery.
Certainly Reave’s own motives are not nearly so pure, though it is not the handsome reward being offered that inspires him. His desires cannot so easily be sated by such recompense.
When Carnage tells them to dig, Reave hesitates for a heartbeat before stepping forward to survey the depression. His expression is curiously blank as he considers his options. Digging is not something he had anticipated doing - an endeavor for which he is uniquely unsuited - when he had embarked on this adventure.
It is only after a few moments of quiet contemplation that Reave turns from the indentation to find Carnage. He should be afraid, given all he knows of this powerful being, yet he is not. Cautious perhaps, but foolishly unafraid. Perhaps later he will learn to regret that.
“If I am to dig for you, maybe you would be willing to help me become… better suited to the task,” he begins, a faint grin flashing across his mouth. “My grandmother was able to destroy things with a thought, so the ability must be in my blood.” Tilting his head, Reave speaks carefully as he makes his request. “Can you grant me access to it?”
There is silence for a long moment before the dark god simply says, “No.” Reave releases a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding as disappointment washes through him. Before he can turn away to reconsider the problem however, Carnage continues. “But since you asked so prettily I will grant you something… similar.”
The gleam in the powerful stallion’s eye should have warned Reave it would not be a gift without strings, but Reave feels only a surge of satisfaction. He can feel the tingle of power along his skin, and when it settles, he murmurs his thanks before turning to consider the shallow depression where he must dig.
Uncertain precisely what he has been granted, Reave focuses on an isolated stone as he reaches for the new energy bubbling inside him. With an insidiously hungry whisper, darkness erupts from him, swarming the stone and all that surrounds it with ravenous, destructive shadows. Startled, Reave swiftly pulls back, clumsily yanking the shadows back to him. They are reluctant, so eager for the feast that it requires effort on his part to rein them back in.
When they are gone, the stone is no more, the earth surrounding it bare and pitted as though eaten away by acid. Despite his alarm when the shadows had resisted him, Reave allows a smile to grow.
Shifting restlessly, Reave gives them freedom once more. They froth forth, those hungry shadows, consuming greedily as they surge around him. He flinches when one curls across his cannon bone, sloughing skin away until he jerks sharply on that reticent darkness. Blood seeps down his leg, followed by pain as his nerves belatedly recognize the injury. Reave ignores it, instead focusing all of his energy on controlling the riotous flow of shadow, careful to keep it from touching him again.
His smile now a grimace, Reave feels weariness stealing over him. The effort to control something that so desperately does not wish to be controlled saps his strength far more than he would wish. Fortunately for him, their ravenous appetite swiftly draws them deeper and deeper into the earth despite the way they seethe at the small space Reave has allowed them.
He’s not certain how long they have been burrowing into the earth, but when he feels a shifting beneath him, Reave stills. He hastily pulls the devouring darkness back, using a great deal of his waning strength to bottle them once more. Another wrenching of the ground beneath his feet sends him scrambling backwards, but it is far too late for him to save himself.
With a groan, dirt and stone gives way, sending Reave tumbling headlong into a yawning abyss.
reave
