#holou

Lalapril Day 19: Return

After a fellow comrade plummeted to what was assumed to be their doom after going over a cliffside, Holou was commanded to find them and bring them back home. Find him he did...and thus began the struggle to carry them back.

Lalapril Day 10: Record

While his elder brother may be an adventurer at heart, Holou would carve his own path in earning his archon mark. Working hard as both a Gleaner and a student of Old Sharlayan in studying ancient imagery and their meanings.

Lalapril Day 6: Potential

Holou has ever dwelled within the shadows of his family. A great asset, but no better than his chieftain father and oracle elder brother. His potential is just as grand however... so long as he accepts that fate.

Lalapril Day 1: Arrival

Leaving their southern seas homelands, both brothers embark and arrive upon their respective place of interest! Garen seeks adventure to Vylbrand and Holou a gleaner for Old Sharlayan.

Lalapril Day 17: Storm (Frostbite AU)

Taken against his own will, Holou awakens to the power of a lightning eikon. Brewing up the perfect storm in his wake as terror strikes the land.

Writing Prompt: Taken Word Count: 975 (Frostbite AU) - (Continuation from Portentous!) ---> masterlist

“We have need of you…”

As clawed hands nearly grasped around Holou’s sleeping form, his body suddenly jumped as if on pure instinct. A maddening tumble towards the back of the cavern of which he’d chosen his shelter for the night, breathing deep and heavily labored breaths as he grasped his bearings. Daggers in either hand and his trembling eyes wide.

He had sensed it. Even in deepest slumber he realized the danger he was in. The aura of murderous intent that had been hovering over his vulnerable form, now made manifest before him in a bid to ambush.

A man bathed in shadow and darkness. A cloak made of blackest night with a mask that hid one’s truest features. Every ounce of this thing’s being made Holou shiver. He had been cornered. Trapped like prey before a beast ready to have its meal. And he couldn’t even see it well in the darkness of the cave!

“Be careful on your way headed home.” The echo of his elder brother Garen’s voice from earlier that morn rang clear as day in his head. “Truly. Be careful. Come what may, I’m counting on you to make it home safely.”

“Do not falter in this task that I give you.”

Gods damn his brother’s cryptic messages. He had known what awaited Holou! And in typical oracle fashion, warned him in a way that gave no warning of what truly awaited around the corner. Only enough to make him wary to sleep soundly on this night.

And good thing he had. But the situation he had found himself in was not the most fortuitous either.

What he didn’t know… was that this man had been the very same one who had faced Garen and Zura earlier in the day.

“Dear boy,” The haunting voice of the shadowed man hovered ever closer. With a voice as sinister as a snake. “Do not make this difficult on me. Obey me and come with willingly, or I’ll have to resort to more… painful methods.”

“To hells with ye—Like I’d follow yer nasty mug without a wit o’ what you want from me!” Holou spat at them, daggers at the ready.

“As it goes with you Vikings. Very well.”

Holou acted first. He’d skidded some sort of material against the wall of the cave, causing a spark that kindled smallest flame in his hands. A match. One that he chucked at the shadow which just as swiftly caught flame.

It did nothing to falter the shadowed being from attacking. But it gave Holou all the advantage in being able to see his surroundings.

Holou fought like a bat out of hell. Cutting and digging into this mysterious form that never seemed to take much damage from his strikes—but was dangerously closing in with strange shadow like abilities. Lingering in the air and surrounding them, slowly but surely… Struggle as much as he could to take the guy down and make for his escape, the shadows dogged his every step.

They wrapped around his ankles and forced him prone. Other dark magicks struck at his body—one impaling after the other. Nothing lethal or anywhere vital, but enough to burn his body like mad as he screamed from each strike.

“Twas your own fault, I’m afraid. Your struggle wasn’t necessary. I’d say you put up a good fight… but your flimsy knives never stood a chance against me.”

“Curse you…” Holou swore as his vision began to blur. The feeling of his body being picked up against his will. No good. His consciousness was fading.

Garen… Ma and Da… all his little siblings… the village… their faces flashed in his thoughts as he feared the worse—that he’d never see them again after this.

Nor would Veidanfisk ever receive news of the prophecy’s aftermath and their success. As neither son returned home…

…

…

Holou still yet lived. But in what state?

Much of the time that passed was a blur. In and out of consciousness. Feelings of immense pain and electrifying lightning in his veins before slumbering once more. Wounded but revived. An overbearing presence trying to force it’s ways through his inner walls. Again and again. Over and over. Something that dared to take control while he was at his weakest.

When finally he did regain proper awareness with the world around him, he found himself confined. Alone and secluded in a back room of some unknown place. Where he could just barely make out conversations going on in a room just beyond a door.

“This age has come to a standstill for far too long.” A familiar voice. The one that struck him down. “And I would usher in a new one. No more stalling.”

A softer murmur joined in on the conversation. A gentle voice so quiet Holou could barely make it out. Were they making excuses? Reasonings? They were so hard to hear, but the darker voice was clear as day.

“I’ve already witnessed two of your making, so I have no doubt you can invest in another. This one is one of their kind and thus has potential. Make it happen.”

And then… silence.

Unbearable silence as Holou shifted in his constraints. Until the door beyond his confinement opened to reveal the voice he had such difficulty making out. An unknown viera man… who looked much like a corpse walking. A life that looked drained of all joy and enthusiasm, bound to whatever work had forced him into this position. His physique telling him more than words could convey.