CLXIII.

All fragments of her own creation had begun their fall

Into the predetermined places of this devious plan.

Everything in just order of events, saw Aurianne.

Indeed, the threads were fellows, in accordance with her thrall:

The fool with the Orb predicted well this eventuality,

Despite the need-be sacrifice of all immortality,

Including her own sister. Yet to her the be-all-end-all

Was the grandest goal of resurrection, such mighty haul!

CLXIV.

The web of lies which she hath spun would never leave the world,

Of that she was sure in spite of the evidence contrary.

Many an ally still had parts to play, oft unwittingly,

And thus, Sky Peruvia was her precious pawn unfurled.

Though the all-powerful Goddess of Death possessed grand valence

In the alchemy of souls, hers lacked all plotting talents,

As not a single string of scheme around her heart was curled.

This made her easy pray for those who fate round their fingers twirled.

CLXV.

Such solitude bred curiosity which was easily

Used against her, as was made clear in the burial of the old fool.

Now all that remained was clear, howbeit dangerous, and cruel.

To truly break the boundary and let beasts through ceaselessly,

The blood of kin-in-kind demanded to be bitterly spilled.

The wound not grave, yet not superficially cast or instilled.

That was the premonition, which the Witch sought greedily.

It befell once long ago; It will befall again eagerly.

CLXVI.

The hilled horizons cast their tenebrous shadows athwart

The valley’s path, which Ríona deftly maneuvered through.

Every so often screeches and howls would the sound imbue

In echoed silence of all living beings, tearing apart

Any remaining courage, even in the bravest of beings.

She could hear her own nervous breath flooded with anxious feelings

After each occurrence. Something primal was put on alert

Inside of her – stirred, as the dreaded beaks prowled beastly about.

CLXVII.

This fear reminded her of that fated day when Mockwir fell,

When masses of people which moved in morose unity

Fled from the monsters feathered in black. These memories lucidly

Danced deep inside her mind. The Scheming Witch sought to compel

The lass to act: “That’s it, my sapling, cuttest thy way through

Without a doubt, ne’er leaving a trace of thy avenue

Of escape.” The girl nodded in a sombre agreement’s yell

And asked her ghostly guide for guidance in an ire’s swell.

CLXVIII.

“There’s hundreds, if not thousands, in these peaks of white and grey,

Along with those who prowl in the valleys of voracious streams;

How in the world am I supposed to make it through the seams

Of their battered and scattered lines, Aurianne?” She shared her dismay.

The goddess saw a reprise of words would not work again,

Therefore, she advised the girl to keep focus on their plan,

Ne’er let her trial’s quest out of sight lest she be led astray.

She harnessed honeyed words of reason to begin her play.

CLXIX.

“Thou standest much closer to thy goal than thou mightest think.

We have passed down from the tallest breadths of the Guardians

And will soon be faced by the ranges of the Frozen Plains.

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My dear, it is there where we might take the delectable drink

Of courage and vigour on the grounds of battle, and face this

Incursion ‘fore it grows into an invasion of the abyss!

I’m sure that news has marched its way through the celestial ink

And reached thy father, who rides up to save his domain’s brink.”

CLXX.

“Do not falter in tenacity! ‘Tis thine heavy burden

Thou mustest carry, for such is now thy dire destiny.”

Ríona could feel her chest grow in stark severity

For contempt-carried was her heart when the all-outcome hearkened.

Alas, even in such a headstrong state, she knew Aurianne

Was not spouting bewitching lies through her teeth, not more than

The usual. Before her laid the bypath with its burden

Of safety’s promise, down the Tribunal Hills’ trail uncertain.

CLXXI.

She strode to hide between the conifers as more and more

Beasts rushed along the ridges. After what felt like a lifetime,

The light began its fall below the horizon, marking her climb

Would soon commence. She rushed between the rocks in noble splendour,

Gracefully finding sure footing, reaching up to the hilltop,

Bare in its beauty. Alas, here she was exposed in her galop

Across the plateau; whereupon; wide-spanning, laid before

Her spread the very plains of which the Witch spoke afore.

CLXXIII.

The shadows of pined woods behind her, she snuck up toward

The glade-grasses which differed in their reach up to the stars.

With caressing care, she pounced between the ground’s greenest hairs

And finished the long silent stretch, closing in on her reward.

Then suddenly, the sound of breaking bark from behind her

Shot ice into her veins. In utter terror, she turned to defer

All doubt and gazed across her shoulder. Dead, glowing eyes roared

With voracity. Standing there a mass of torn flesh, feathered, abhorred.

CLXXIV.

The goddess whispered swift words of cold-sharpened verity:

“Slay it now; use thy combat lore and end its pathetic plight

Before it alerts all others in the nearness of our flight!”

Woe struck, and the screech filled their every pore with agony

And anguish. Terrified, the body began moving on

Its own, hurling a jagged stone towards the dreaded spawn.

Yet, it still neared the girl with sinister asperity,

As if content with its quarry of flow’s prosperity.

CLXXV.

Struck by the moment, Ríona looked about spotting countless

Darkened figures approaching her with dread from every flank.

The goddess wished to give advice – give a simple tug or yank,

Alas before a single uttered word, the lass would impress

With meticulous motion, striking the demon down swiftly.

She speared through its beak, ‘fore the beast could scream a tune sickly.

The black blood which sprayed her forearms, stung with sharpened finesse,

As Aurianne brought heed to this ominous siege in progress.

CLXXVI.

Ríona rose her throwing arm with her spear-staff fitted,

Closed her eyes and uttered: “Forgivest me, if I fail thy trial,

Dear Aurianne,” and before the goddess could her thoughts compile,

The girl threw the doomed javelin t’wards the creatures quick-witted,

And ran as fast as the winds could carry her down the hill.

The spirit-guest roared in disbelief with a mocking shrill:

“Art thou mad?! Why dost thou cast ‘way thy sole spear outfitted?

Ridiculous! As if instructing a pigeon dim-witted!”

CLXXVII.

With a groan, she added: “Run now lass, go as fast as feet take thee!”

Then Aurianne secluded herself in old memories

Again, searching for a chasm in her plan of centuries

Which was now coming to fruition. Indeed, high guarantee

Of success; immaculate. To think she had been sorely stressed

About the languor’s powder, yet the girl had not suppressed

A single memory; at least that’s what the Witch could see

And falsely believed: Blood will be spilled for the crown almighty.