#ireb

The rain torrented against the roof as Ophelia collided through the door of the abandoned hut, barely dragging her prey in behind her.

She stumbled into a far corner, leaning heavily against the wall which creaked against the sudden pressure. With the ability to breathe returned to her, her breath came and went as sputtering gasps. The rain, she thought to herself. The storm had come suddenly, at least to her, who lacked the ability to percieve grand notions such as the weather or sky. The rain threatened her existance, its unrelenteing force tore away at Ophelia's structure with every drop. Even now, under the security of the once occupied hut, Ophelia could feel specks of herself drip onto the wooden floor. Blackened splotches of self, staining the composition of the building.

Her prey turned its head meekly and Ophelia immediately took hold and slammed it again into the floor. Whatever fight it had left was snuffed out, along with its life. Ophelia collapsed, beads of sweat, of self, dripping off her face and onto the body of the slain kobold as she bit down into flesh. A small mercy, it was much easier to consume her own aether, than to tear into that of another.

Another.

Her progress was slow, it was always slow. However, It had taken her far longer than she preferred to reach this far along her destined path. That insatiable hunger which bled into every thought, which drove her into an unyielding pursuit to her prey, her true prey.

Ophelia drank deeply of the beastkins blood, feeding off the trace amounts of aether found within.

Sister.

The malformed twin struggled to keep her form in this region. The frequent rainfall forced Ophelia to retreat to safety frequently. Numerous nights she was forced to spend her time consuming her beastkin victims. Of which were light on aetherical composition, equal parts both a benefit and a detriment to the shadowed monster. While she had to hunt more and dig deeper towards finding their aetherical core, it was easy, almost effortless, in securing her next meal.

The malnourished shade fell to its knees at the edge of the water, it's mind singularly focused at the task at hand. The shade had taken refuge in the natural stone arch of Red Mantis Falls, east of Middle La Noscea, home to a variety of different creatures and beastkin alike. To the north stood Wineport, to the east Costa del Sol, both populated establishments which were more than capable and willing to give aid to a soul in need. But it couldn't have known that, nor would that knowledge had made any difference. What use was it to offer alms and shelter to a lurking shadow?

Thus, it found itself here, a collapsed heap of limbs and self, half submerged in the shallow bank of the rushing river. There it lay, motionless. Its awareness dwindled, slowly, ever so slowly. The night grew darker, what remained of its mind dimmed. It could feel the march of oblivion creep into its meager existance. On better days that march was it's own. On better days the fleeting shadow was more. More than a shadow, more than a shade, more than a thing. It was the embodiement of the very same impulse that plagued its every iota of existance. It was-

A limb flashed out, its clawed appendage stabbed through the body of a curious fish that had been looking for a midnight meal. In an instant, the limb withdrew, feeding prey to bodymass. Despite itself, the shade devoured the creature in entirety. Pointless, it thought to itself as its body absorbed the miniscule aether it could harvest from the fish.

The shade pushed itself deeper into the water, more, it demanded of itself, MORE. It could feel its awareness expand with each consumed being, inch by inch, the thing clawed back it's control from oblivion. Marched against the inevitable.

...

Ophelia knelt on the riverbed, sharp nails dug into the body of her catch as she tore through fish-flesh and fish-bone with her teeth. What she wanted, what she needed was deeper than flesh, deeper than bone. Her lower face was caked in mucus and blood, her body ached and protested against the effort she had to put in to keep her prey from escaping.

The ambience of nature drowned out her desperate satiation. Something inside of her was broken, not the flesh, nor the bone. This was a malady that tore itself against the outer fringes of thought. Ophelia's body shivered as she finally bit down against a morsel of stillness.

Aether, she closed her eyes as she swallowed. The reduced remains of fish slid down her face and arms as she silently reveled in the incremental return of self. Ophelia took in a breath and reached down to her side, seizing another fish from her pile of caught riverlife.

She brought it up to her mouth and bit down, mucus and blood dripping down her face once again as she resumed her work.

nem sokszor voltam eddig kimondottan büszke magamra ebben az elcseszett életben, de hogy 85%-os lett a requirements engineering vizsgám, arra most az vagyok 🥹