Hulkynd; that's the word Thux-Ei's birth mother called her, never Velara. The word that caused her father to go mad, the word that caused him to experiment with the effects of Hist sap and what caused him to eventually combine her essence with that of one of the Marshes most reviled hunters. The pain lasted for months, pleas went unanswered; her father too focused on making sure she was "perfect". The first time she summoned the lightning that now coursed through her veins, his eyes lit up with fervent satisfaction, he had done it. Finally, she was the storm itself, she was perfect.
The crypt air was suffocating , oppressing even. Haj-Ei knew that was to be expected in the Xanmeers of old, but this felt wrong. It felt as if the Hist was weeping, mourning the loss and violation of one of its own. Haj-Ei continued to creep along the corridor, keeping to the shadows. Movement in his peripherals halted him, she was pale, unforgivably pale with splotches of dark scales curling up the right side of her frail body. Haj-Ei's heart ached, her breathing was weak, if he didn't take her back to the village now, she wouldn't make it through the night.
Seems his mission would have to wait.
