Melina
A few gentle glimmers as the traveler began to form near the camp of the two strange companions. At first, the knight's hand reached for her blade, only to calm when the traveler alowly lowered her hood to reveal her closed left eye, marked by a strange mark, and soft, shoulder length pinkish light red hair.
"I have come to offer thee an accord." Her voice as soft and approachable. Warm even, like the whispers of a candle in the coolest shelf of winter.
The gilded goddess looked at her anxiously, brow furrowed, yet held her tongue. She had taken to hiding her face beneath a scarf given to her by her would-be savior, soft blue threads that circled her neck and face, but it did little to hide from one who had followed them for some time. A fact they knew not.
The knight stepped forward, eyes meeting eye with a quiet kind of fury that, when this close, nearly made the traveler stumble. It was as if staring into the crashing arc of a meteor held back only by ice. Cold and quiet thought binding horrible, terrible wrath. "What kind of accord?"
"I have been sent by the lady Renna to gift you the ring of Torrent. He has talked in our council, and he feels you are the best fit to be his riders." She finished, hand slowly emerging to show a whistle like ring.
"And what might the price be of such a fine gift?" She asked, glancing between the ring and the traveler's eyes.
"Only that you allow me to travel with you."
"Hm..."
"You are without a maiden, yes?"
The golden queen flinched but said nothing at the stinging words. Her motherhood brought many wonders, but it came at its costs. She could not turn the power of their fallen foes to strength, and they had begun to feel the weight of that weakness as they had been halted here.
"Hm.... tell me more of this maiden duty."
Marika
She watched as the two quietly stepped aside to discuss the finer details, but she knew her knight had made a choice. It did not upset her. If anything, a finger maiden made their goals all the more attainable. So... why did this make her chest feel strangely in pain.
'Because that is Ours. Mine.'
She clutched her head as his voice began to crack at the door. She shook, the pain unlike it had been in a while. She started to reach out. She started to cry for help, but soon, the world began to turn black.
Then, it turned Red.
Luna
She felt the presence before she saw it. This sudden wave of pure power and rage. Both of them turned, as the would-be savior's eyes darted about, noticing the sudden lack of her ward. All that stood was a tall, angry man with thick red hair, skin like roasted marble, and a hammer glowing with holy power. Beside him sat a few strands of torn golden hair.
It was right about then that much of the moonlit warrior's thoughts stopped, and her own fury barreled down the door of her mind like a freight train. The storm was awake, and it was angry. She grabbed the blade she had found, unsheathing it as it now strangely glowed with a moonlit blue, as she charged towards the red-haired attacker. Within her thoughts began to boil away all self, replaced by the visions of all things. All pasts, all presents, all futures. A raw tidal wave of possibilities, ever constant, ever changing as it tore her mind apart. No mind should ever bear this kind of burden, and hers was one to pay a heavy tax for what she thought was a righteous vengence.
She ducked beneath a single swipe that tore apart stone in crackle of holy light like a wave, slashing in an upward arc like a crescent moon as a wave of magic and moonlight ripped from her blade and tore into the assailant. His pain was heavy in his roar, but it did not slow him as he reached down to grab the knight.
She was not in the kind of footing needed for a dodge, and her arm was still arcing back to restrike. She was exposed. Yet the storm saw it all. The tiny fragment of space mere millimeters as she slides back on her heel, letting her weight tumble her back from the grasp into a roll, followed by a horizontal swipe that fired more of this arcing magic moonlight that struck the man like water cutting against stone. His red hair boiled with power as his fury soon turned into targetted contempt, as a hand slowly pointed at the knight.
"You will bend the knee before me before the last of the runes are found." He spoke with a damning authority that bristled at the knights mind like barbs. As if words alone dug at her thoughts and intentions. Yet the storm would offer no ground, bouncing away his power.
"I bend knee to one, and one alone." As she surged forward. Moonlit steel and stone like metal clashed, as each began a furious melee where blood and rock were scattered around near every surface.
Soon, however, the knight was quick to reach her limit. She had still not absorbed any of her gathered runes. Her mind was beginning to crack, and her blade had lost its glow as her thoughts began to be forced to choose between continuing to let the Storm rage, or let it fall, but likely resort to running, or worse.
A smash of that hammer hit just in front of her, too close for her liking as she tried to roll away only for her ankle to get grabbed. She was thrown violently, hitting a nearby rotted tree with enough force to smash clean through it as consciousness first left her. Yet, her body remained. Merely wounded, not dead, as the storm faded back from her eyes.
Marika
She pounded and pounded on the gilded bars of her cage. She screamed, she pleaded, and she cried for freedom. She could see nothing but darkness, yet her senses smelled blood. Where was her knight? Where was this traveler? She had to stop Him. She had to prevent his fury and arrogance from dooming them all.
"Even now, you think you have a choice," She heard Him speak with a reverberating, painful throng, "When this world belongs to ME."
"NO!!! STOP THIS!!! I WILL NOT LET THAT BE THE END!!!" she cried out in furious defiance.
His laughter boomed and echoed all around her, burrowing into her psyche. "You will always be just this. The golden shaman is stuffed into a container for others to enjoy. Life was alloted to you, for this -"
"I SAID STOP!!!" as her wail erupted in far greater force as gilded bars began to buckle. In this place, pain was power, but so was feeling. Her mind burned with images of all of her children, dead and alive. Of her home, of all she had tried to build out of her own pride and His vile goading.
Then, she thought of her would-be savior. She could smell her blood, sense her whimpers of pain. "Nono No NO YOU CAN NOT HARM HER!"
She saw Him form, marching up to her cage as a hand speared through. He gripped her by the throat, angrily glaring into her eyes as she choked with hands desperately clutching his wrist. "You do not give the orders here. Not anymore."
"S..o... you...." As the gilden goddess smirked, "Say!" As He suddenly lurched his arm away, but it was too late. He looked forward, only to find himself staring out the golden bars he had tried to trap her inside.
"YOU CUNNING SCHEMING LITTLE WHO -"
As his voice cut out, Marika felt the world slowly come back into contrast.
She stood over her would-be savior, hand holding a stick like one would a club, and dropped it right away. She screamed, eyes wide and horrified before rushing to her knights aid. She quickly tore off whay armor she could and breathed in relief as it proved to be only minor wounds. Painfully broken ribs, a dislocated disc, and a conscious. She would live. She wouldn't learn Marika's secret, either.
She wouldn't be left all alone.
Melina
She watched from a distance, eyes narrowing with a bit of confusion, then curiosity as the great man slowly transformed back into the golden haired goddess. A revelation that had not shocked the traveler, but all but confirmed this to truly be Marika.
Melina would simply tell Marika she saw nothing, ran when the battle began, and would wait to return until it was clear that the golden queen had begun to heal the knight. She would let the gilded goddess have that small peace for now.