Chaos Gene (1)

Screams. The desert flashed between its normal color and blood-red hues. The Dark Elves watching flickered between their normal forms and the creatures Myra despised.

Arachne, Scorpions, Green-Skins.

Raw hatred bubbled inside her, the desire to kill flooding her mind- intoxicating like wine.

Myra's form was shrouded in waves of red mist and the swirling sands of the dune. The onlookers watched with unease and uncertainty, unsure if she would remain herself or become corrupted like the brethren they had been forced to put down.

From within the mist, the edges of Myra's black hair vanished, replaced by an eternally flowing red mist. It rippled in waves and flickered wildly- mimicking hair tufts but disappearing like vapor.

Her scars disappeared, her skin smoothed, and a red gem surfaced on her forehead, the surrounding skin turning crimson. Veins pulsed toward her eyes in deep red hues, though they did not discolor the skin around them.

Visions of satisfying violence filled her mind- acts she longed to inflict upon the creatures that had taken her brethren from her.

The temptation to cast aside this god, who had left them bereft for centuries, and send his being to the horrid depths of the Underworld.

But her will, her desire to protect her children and her brethren, anchored her sanity. She knew that if she could not control this power, everyone would be lost—everything she had fought for over centuries.

At this point, however, even if her race burned, she wanted her children to survive.

Myra gritted her teeth so hard that her gums bled as the magic around her intensified before bursting outward, sending a tidal wave of sand across the dunes and throwing everyone onto their backs.

Thankfully, she had done this away from the Oasis; otherwise, their only source of water would have become useless.

Xanveris looked up at her figure, hovering by the will of her red mist, with caution. She stared back, her gaze locked onto him as the others recovered.

He could feel the indescribable power radiating from her, flowing from her form in heavy concentration. Compared to her, both his and Xelvanya's powers were mere droplets.

"Myra!"

Zark emerged from the cave atop his salamander, his body soaked in green blood. His eyes widened in shock and confusion as he dismounted, striding toward her without hesitation or concern for his safety.

Myra's eyes flicked sharply to Zark, but he remained undeterred, stopping just below her, hand outstretched, his expression raw with desperation and emotion.

Slowly, she descended. They held each other in a warm embrace, an instinctual understanding passing between them. Silence blanketed the dark elves. No one dared to speak.

Those who had doubted her words no longer questioned them. They watched in awe, though some now wore grim expressions as her words of warning returned to their minds.

Releasing each other, Zark watched with quiet patience and admiration.

Myra turned to Xanveris. Any hesitation he had was gone, and she embraced her son briefly.

Zark's momentary patience shattered once they separated.

"This was the will of the God of Tenebris?"

Myra nodded.

"And the green-skins?"

She nodded again before finally speaking. While her voice remained the same, an undertone of power and authority resonated through, carried by the overwhelming presence of the Red Mist.

"Ten thousand souls march from the West to bring our doom," Myra acknowledged, her tone darkening.

"But I will deliver theirs."

---------------

Xelvanya and the other two dark elves returned in despair, having pushed their salamanders to their limits to gain time.

They had seen the horde- ten thousand goblins moving with unnatural haste.

Their eyes were a maddened frenzy, uncaring of fatigue, as a singular objective resonated through their minds.

Kill the Dark Elves. Flay their bodies. Feast on their corpses. Bathe their liver caps and bodies in a pool of elven blood.

When she arrived, she was momentarily stunned despite her despair. She felt the power radiating from her mother and saw the changes in her appearance. Uncertainty filled her until she saw her father and brother standing beside Myra.

Her gaze quickly darted to the others, who were gathering and preparing their weapons.

Xelvanya bit her lip, uncertainty gnawing at her thoughts. 'Will this power be enough? Or is this our last stand...'

Shaking her head, she cast her doubts aside and jumped from her exhausted mount.

"Mother! You were right! A horde is descending upon us with a bloodlust unlike anything I've ever seen in all our hunts!"

Dark expressions rippled through the gathered. Fathers, mothers, even children- each one armed and experienced.

The only two who would not join the battle were those who had just given birth. They could only hope, pray, to survive.

Without speaking, Myra calmly pointed past Xelvanya. A massive cloud of dust rose in the distance as the goblins neared.

"We should retreat into the cave," Xelvanya urged in alarm. "It will force a funnel and give us a fighting chance!"

Many dark elves nodded in agreement- it was a sound battle plan. But Myra shook her head and smiled, cupping her daughter's face as she stepped forward.

"There is no need to put the newborns in danger," Myra said gently.

Xelvanya opened her mouth to protest, but Myra hushed her with a look.

"Trust me. We will keep our home and water untainted."

The feral screams of the goblins echoed now, despite the distance still between them.

While Myra remained relaxed, everyone else gradually tensed.

After a moment longer, she released her daughter's face. Confidence remained in her gaze as she slowly began to ascend.

"Spread out! Families stick together! Stay in teams of two at the minimum!" Zark barked, and the dark elves moved swiftly to spread out with their mounts.

Unquestioning trust, despite the odds. Despite the situation.

The feral horde's roar grew louder. Closer. Two miles.

Myra closed her eyes, and a faint, whistling scream pierced the air.

Red mist flowed up from the soil, concentrating between her hands with growing density. The air around her shimmered violently, and the uncertainty among the dark elves faded into anticipation.

One mile.

Energy rippled outward from Myra before her eyes snapped open and her hands spread apart. A massive, dark orb expanded outward.

In an instant, everyone-including the goblin horde- was swallowed by darkness.

The eerie, red glint of the dark elves' crystal eyes, and orange glint of salamander eyes, shimmering ominously in the abyss before vanishing.