That Which Cannot be put Into Words

There are many things indescribable by language. The infinite grief of loss, the void left behind by the betrayal of a loved one, or learning that one's who life had amounted to nothing despite a life of effort. 

A portal opened in a pitch dark cave. A lone, delicate girl fell, invisible through the lightless world, and crashed into the pool below. There was no difference between the air and water however, as the cave had long been drained of breathable air. As she descended, each breath burnt her lungs with the heat of brimstone, as her skin prickled in the toxic gas. 

Had the pool been illuminated, an onlooker may have found it beautiful, an array of hues from red to blue to green, but in the darkness it was nothing more than a silent spring of death. For it was a geyser pool. Laying half a mile beneath the Cathedral of the Voice lay this artificial hell. As her feet touched the pool, instantly scalding, Arya's heart grew cold. As the scalding reached her legs the mind went numb, and as her head submerged beneath the aqueous hell, the girl had already been removed from existence. 

All that remained of the girl was the unheard scream that ripped at her throat as she fell, the empty cries that couldn't escape her cracked lips. 

In that void, long after her body had fallen to nothingness, her ghastly wails echoed. There was no sound, but a palpable wave passed through the ambient mana. It echoed on the walls, growing stronger and stronger, unimpeded by the geyser pool or the brimstone air. The mana in the room seemed to amplify endlessly, heedless of the laws of physics, the energy grew and grew until the echoing wails seemed to coalesce. 

"(Burn as I burned)"

The sulfur in the air caught fire, seemingly by the will of the world, a great explosion shattered the Country. Forcing it's way through the earth, higher and higher, until it swallowed the Cathedral of the Voice. 

In the hellfire that spawned from the sacrificial pool beneath the late Cathedral, a blue figure materialized, undulating with the brilliant colors of the geyser pool.

Never again shall I go unheard

Caught in the current of mana, the spirit was sucked up out of the pit and into the open world.

I want to be beautiful

I want to be powerful

I want to be wonderful

Then all the world will love me

And no one will raise a hand against me

As she rose above the ruins of what was once the Holy City of Eiara, the First Voice, her gaze fell upon the body of a beautiful cleric choking on the brimstone air.

The Ghast that once was Arya released a pulse of mana to the girl carrying her desires. 

Know me

Know my pain

Know my envy

Know my desire

I burn

Burn with me

Rather than with flames of fire, the cleric's heart erupted with flames of envy, flames of desire for a life she didn't know she wanted. A life she didn't know she needed

Name: Cassandra

Class: Heretic

Occupation: Cultist

Skills: Flame of Envy, Corruption, Entice

Vitality: 2

Spirit: 8

Strength: 1

Dexterity: 7

Magic Power: 1

Charm: 9

Upon her rebirth, the brimstone air no longer burned and her mind grew clear. Cassandra's gaze swept the ruined city in which she had spent her entire life. It traced the mangled figures of former teachers, friends, all buried in rubble and bubbling in the sulfurous heat. There was no emotion in her eyes. They were not cold, only empty. The flames had devoured her heart, and left her only with the desire to grow.

"Thank you for your deaths. From your sacrifice shall bloom my legacy"