"W-what's going on?" Suddenly getting a feeling of dread, Rak'ard nervously walked up to the Felloxes. "Did...did..." He beckoned towards the burned ruin. "You...?"
"Me?" Dyugra laughed. "No, that's not my style. When we got here, there was no one in sight I could slaughter. They're all hiding like little scared rabbits. This human just here told us there's a 'Devil of Fire' kinda burning stuff down now and then here. Funny thing, the description matched you exactly. Even funnier considering you seem to be able to throw fire around, isn't it?"
"M-me?!" Surely, that was impossible. Surely, this cruel Fellox was joking. Surely, this had to be some kind of misunderstanding; maybe there was a Lucain looking rather similiar to him around here and--
--a girl screaming, flames everywhere around him, humans trying to extinguish the fire without coming near him and more flames lashing out at them, not like normal fire, more like hands born from hell and burning; burning wood and bones and flesh and screaming, so much screaming. And laughter. Cruel laughter, from a voice sounding like his own and--
Rackard tumbled. His head hurt, it hurt so badly, but he barely registered it through the dread settling into his bones. He felt nauseous; the smell of death and burning flesh still in the air, like a sick, cruel memory and, oh Zu'hai, this couldn't have been him, no no no, this was impossible, this could not be...
And then there was Dyugra laughing at him and Rak'ard felt tears in his eyes. Hilal ignored Dyugra for once. "Hey...are you alright?" he carefully asked.
"I...I don't know...I just..." Rak'ard shook his head. How could he explain? What was just happening right now? Who was he?
[R 3.4] [D 2.5 (Level Up!)] [H 2.2]