The red glow of flames within the burning wood rises in the air and falls back down as crimson droplets that dissolve into the dirt. Light bounces off the metal on the vertical visor on Arwen's face, which hosts a single glowing eye as white as the lights above flickering in the night sky.

  The ink creature crosses it's armored legs, shifting it's hands across the blank cape resting on it's shoulders. He observes his dark hands and sees the ink flow through his fingers, wondering. This day was quite strange, wasn't it? The foliage of some of the trees seems to have turned grey, which is something he's never seen before. Coloryss losing it's colors can only be an omen of grim implications.

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  He raises his head and looks through the flickering fire, forgetting the pyrogen a moment to stare into the darkness between the trees. The road from the Verdant Bosk to the ruins of the Sundown Fortress is still long. Travelling to the Center of the Versa is still an endeavor that not many have succeeded.

  Taking the handle of his sword, Arwen unsheathes it and looks into the decorated blade picturing roots growing out of the moon. It is the last thing he has left from his unknown home, he wishes he could remember what life was before his kind vanished in a hush, but unfortunately even after searching for what feels like eons he has no recollection of what it was like to live in a land governed by the elusive Ink People.

  Sliding the sword back into it's black scabbard, he falls to his side abruptly. The white glow of his eye disappears slowly as he falls into pitch-dark thoughtlessness.