In a cataclysm known as the Nightfall, the worlds were almost completely destroyed by a harrowing surge of darkness.
In the shadows of the ensuing chaos a new group has taken shape. Led by an Aegyl named Kalos, the 11th Hour touts an esoteric knowledge of how to combat the darkness and restore the worlds. They might be the worlds’ best chance at survival; but nobody really knows enough about them to confirm or deny their claims.
On the brink of collapse, the universe holds its breath in anticipation. Of restoration? Of destruction? It is up to individuals like yourself to decide.
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Post by rulereader12 on Jan 18, 2010 20:56:59 GMT -4
Thetis wasn't used to not fighting, odd as it might seem.
Today her daggers had not left their sheaths, and the only time she'd used her magic was to use her darkness board to move across the beautiful island. Her brother had taken her here one day when she was a bit younger. "Whenever you're feeling overwhelmed," he'd told her, a smile gracing his pale features for once in several weeks, "come here. There's no darkness or Heartless to fight here. It's a paradise." Thetis had never imagined coming here, considering the task she was given - destroy Heartless. There was no time for rest. But even a skilled fighter needed her rest. The Heartless could wait for awhile, could they not?
The wind ruffled her short white hair as she sat Indian-style on the beach, gently sifting sand between her fingers and letting her eyes follow the patterns of the waves. He was right, it was a paradise. Thetis felt that she might want to go swimming at some point, but she didn't have a swimsuit...or dry clothes with her at the time. Yes, Thetis, how convenient. Go to the beach but bring nothing along but the clothes on your back and two useless daggers. She frowned and touched her upper lip, smearing it with sand. It was her thinking habit, and now it was a nuisance because she kept getting sand in her mouth. No amount of spitting stopped the tiny crunch particles from getting trapped between or under her teeth. Obviously she was going to have to rinse when she got back to Traverse Town.
She took out a dagger and began to draw in the packed sand further away from her. A ship, a kitten, some trees, a city....all small, childish drawings. But she liked them, and there was no way she was creating a masterpiece on sand, which would be washed away in twenty minutes anyway. A small sigh escaped her lips as she sheathed her knife again, hoping the waves would not come too soon.
