Chapter Text
“It just kinda happened, y’know?”
—
Fire burns higher and higher and higher until there is naught but a raging flame. And some flames simply cannot be put out, not even by the strongest zephyr. It ravages and consumes because it was made to ravage and consume.
—
“What good was pretending otherwise, huh?”
—
A mirror does not show lies - half truths, maybe, but never lies. You’d better accept whatever image the glass spits back at you, just as the flames did. For to be able to consume and ravage, you must grow strong and untestable. It’s easier to accept the creature you are then fight the fuel which enables you to burn.
—
“So that’s what I did.. But that.. that damn little bird..”
—
What good is a chained breeze against the freedom which melts those bonds? A caged bird could never be compared to a soaring phoenix. Shackled by glorified chains- bending over backwards to fight a fire which it could never live up to - but it can try. It can always, always try.
—
“Birdie tweeted his way into MY damn path!”
—
The faithful winds of life had been brought into this world to vanquish the darkness, no matter how close to heart that darkness spawned. And though it pained the bird to no end, destiny cannot be escaped. It can be delayed, but that would only cause more harm… and so the wind was forced to fight he who may have been considered a friend.
—
“A friend! A friend?! That’s what he called me- can ya’ believe it? ‘Faithful little wind’ asking ME to return to him like I was some lost mutt!”
—
The little wind was tired now, so many centuries of fighting.. Threats upon threats.. Countless faces from countless lands belonging to countless evils.. But he didn’t consider the one at the end of his arrow evil- this was a familiar face. A friend at times, even. Still, the phoenix and the sparrow were evenly matched.
—
“So I had to do some thinking. Real clever, I know, I know.”
—
The fire spread throughout every nook and cranny of the sacred Forest, consuming flora and fauna alike. And when the flames dispersed and the ash settled, coating the one sprawling greenery with a sickly charcoal-grey, there was nothing left. No tree. No brush. No animals.
And no-one that the little wind once held dear.
—
“And then he just kinda disappeared! Funny how that works, huh?”
…
…
…
Cataclysm let out a long suffering sigh, slumping a little in his throne of scorching rock. He groaned, rolling his eyes, pointing the tip of his staff at the various assortment of volcanic rocks watching on with a range of mild to no amusement.
“Oi. Just gave you the story of a lifetime. No feedback? No nothing?”
…
The silence stretched on a while longer, the rocks staring back at the destroyer blankly. Eventually, Cataclysm forced himself out of his perch and sauntered over to the stones, crouching before them.
“Kids these days.. Can’t even appreciate a good story.”
He muttered, directing a concentrated, intense heat at the rocks, watching with disinterest as they soon liquified and seeped into the crevices of the scorched earth, mixing with the volcanic ash and soot. He huffed, leaning back on the balls of his feet, poking at the molten liquid with his index finger, then flicking it aside a moment later.
Cataclysm pouts indignantly, flopping back against the cracked earth and crossing his arms firmly over his chest, staring up at the soot coated ceiling of the cave.
“Nothing good to do nowadays. Burn a village or two and suddenly everyone else in the region is just.. Poof! Gone! Vanished! Boring!”
Just at that moment, a sudden gust of air travelled through the catacombs of the winding caverns, followed by the muffled beating of wings. Cataclysm jerked upright, staring into darkness just beyond his open chamber, listening intently to the light tapping of approaching footsteps upon the arid rock.
A slow, truly wicked smile spread across his face, a delighted laugh bubbling from his throat.
“Well then, a guest! What brings you to this neck of the volcanic wasteland?”
Still the footsteps did not cease, growing louder and nearer with every passing second. Cataclysm scoffed, gesturing to the darkness with the tip of his staff.
“C’mon! Don’t be scared, I promise I don’t bi-”
“Shut it.”
A distant, hissing whisper carried across the wind, resounding within the chambers of the cavern. Cataclysm’s smirk faltered for a moment, his grip on his staff tightening from.. From what? He didn’t know. Not fear- how could it possibly be fear? Muscle memory? Recognition? Instinct? Whatever it was, it felt thrilling.
The footsteps came to a stop just on the edge of the all-consuming darkness. Silhouetted by the void, a figure stood stock still: bow clutched loosely in one hand, talons catching the torch light and glinting a golden glow. But something about those eyes. Tired, devoid of joy, but piercing. So piercing. Piercing like that little bird’s so long ago.
The bow.
Those eyes.
That pure, simmering hatred.
Cataclysm let out a disbelieving laugh, strutting over to the newcomer and looking him over, grabbing one of his wings and examining it.
“Well damn! Windy, ain’t this a new look?”
Still, he did not respond to the destroyer, just glaring up at him with cold, poisonous eyes. He batted Cataclysm’s hand away, his hand clenching and unclenching at his side.
“Huh.. don’t respond to that anymore, hm? You look like a raven at night. We’ll call you Night Raven now, yeah? Much cooler!”
Cataclysm mused, taking a step back and crossing his arms over his chest, looking awfully smug as he stared down at Night Raven, who stared right back in response. The destroyer sighed a little, reaching over to poke the archer on the forehead multiple times, tilting his head in feigned confusion.
“Gosh. You don’t talk much, do y-”
In a sudden blur of movement, Night Raven reeled back his free hand, sharp talons facing towards Cataclysm as he aimed straight for his gut. Within a moment’s notice, the archer’s nails had pierced through the entirety of the destroyer’s stomach, breaching the skin on his back in one swift motion, his arm firmly lodged within the man’s guts.
Cataclysm let out a choked gasp, reaching down to force the Raven’s arm out of his stomach, his chest heaving as he tried to comprehend what just happened. The pain was immense- searing, so utterly striking in comparison to the boredom of the past years. He tried to regulate his breathing, staring down at the foreign matter spearing through him with barely disguised shock.
“You-!”
Before he could get a word out, Night Raven wrenched back his arm, the limb sliding out with a horrible, wet squelch. Immediately, Cataclysm stumbled backwards, clutching at the hole in his stomach, catching himself on his throne. A shuddering exhale escaped him as he felt the warm blood spill profusely out of the chasm, coating his bodysuit in a deep crimson.
Night Raven did not move, still standing just in front of the shroud of darkness, a terrifying, satisfied gleam in his dark eyes. He held his arm up to the dim light, inspecting the warm blood staining his skin and the various bits of shredded internal organs stuck under his nails.
They stared at each other for just a moment longer, stunned shock boring into something else entirely unreadable. Finally, Night Raven turned away, uttering a final word before melting into the darkness.
“...Suffer.”
And just as soon as he appeared, he was gone, the tapping of footsteps gradually fading into nothing in the stuffy volcanic air, leaving only Cataclysm’s frazzled gasps for breath. The destroyer slid down the sleek armrest of the throne, his head falling back against the stone as his body rushed to frantically repair the gaping chasm in his gut.
He stared up at the ceiling once more, but now.. Now there was a glint in his eye. A delighted, so, so, delighted spark, standing bright against the void of his irises. A gurgled, strained laugh bubbled from his chest, filling the empty space with an uncanny joy.
“Woah.. now that… that was not boring..”