#abdzoth

She stood at the bank of the pond with her sister. Her big sister. The elven woman had a huge mane of black hair with hints of her segmented horns poking from the top. A turqoise stone headband hung around her forhead.

“You wanted me here, sister?” Nukore murmured, her hand in the Apophan’s clawlike gauntlet. The Third Apophan brought her other hand to her forehead, that thumping was growing annoying, and she didn’t know what it was.

“I did... something about this place... draws us here...” Several tauren moved about the open plateau, conducting their daily business. “Do you feel it?”

Nukore closed her eyes. “Like a drumbeat... constant.” Then she nodded sheepishly towards the center of the pond. “Out there.”

The Third Apophan looked around and sighed, “We wait until nightfall.” And she led her sister away to their bedrolls at the inn.

***

As the moon hung high above them and cast a pall on Thunder Bluff below, the Third Apophan nudged her half sister. “Nukore... come on.” And her elder sister just shrugged her off. “Bit longer.”

The Apophan stared out at the pond nearby nervously. “Get... UP.” she hissed, her eyes flashing a familiar shade of red. Nukore jolted up, “Don’t ... don’t speak like that again.” Apophan sighed. “I’m... s-sorry, sister.”

The pair crept out to the pond, at the heart of Thunder Bluff, unknown to any, the nexus of their father’s power. The Apophan lifted her clawed hand and the water began to recede and split, the elemental essence screaming with the violation of its nature. The pair step down the muddy bank and slosh through to the heart of the pond.

The Apophan looked to her elder sister and ran a finger over her own horns in thought. “We dig?” Nukore asked.

“No.” The Apophan held her other claw out and the ground began to fold away from itself. The mud shivered and slowly a shape rose from the muck. The thumping in the back of her mind grew deafening.

A black iron, saronite engraved box about the size of a small shield revealed itself from the sludge. The thumping pain at the back of her mind screamed at her as she and her elder sister dragged the heavy thing to shore.

They stood a long while, the water having relaxed and the Apophan panting exhaustedly. “What is it?” she asked. Nukore paled, “I don’t know...”

“Should we open it?”

“I...” Suddenly Nukore’s eyes went dead and she slowly moved her fingers to the latch. Saronite tendrils moved around the chest as it peeled itself open like some artificial clam. Darkness spilled orut of the rim like water, fading into nothingness as it hit the grass. The wind died immediately. A few voices could be heard in the distance.

“Nukore!” The Apophan hissed, ripped her helm off and grabbing for her sister’s hands. But her elder sister merely reached into the blackness. There was a fleshy, squishing sound as blood soaked into the mutant elf’s forearms and she pulled a heavy, black and violet stained Tauren heart from the depths of the chest. Tendrils and veins still led from the organ into the void and it pumped as if still alive.

The Apophan looked down at the heart and Nukore’s hands had already melded into it, the flesh one.

“N...Nukore!?” She went to grasp her sister’s shoulder, felt her own hand begining to meld with her and pulled away.

All the power of their twisted father coursing in her veins and she could only stand and watch as her only sister began being pulled and molded into the heart. Smoke began to pump from the fleshy contorsion as it started to take shape.

A black furred hoof slammed into the ground next to the chest. Then another. The Third Apophan only wept, “Nukore...”

Then a huge, familiar clawed finger tapped under her chin. She lifted her gaze.