Chapter 25: Part 2; Prologue
[Legends]
[Age of the Blight]
[Saint Lucent; The Martyr]
In the coming ages after the disappearance of The Forgotten a calm washed over the lands of Terminus, there was no war, no divide, no betrayal.
The stars were calm and many began to settle down, the time for Slayers and Astral Lords had passed.
Yet it was in this time of peace that a new evil began to seep in, one last remnant of the Fell God's power.
A Blight that would ravage the world if left unchecked.
A Blight so powerful and evil in nature that even the purest soul could not escape its taint, for once the Fell God's blood reached a host it would forever poison them.
Pure unending pain would rack their body as it would undergo an alteration that no mortal could endure.
Their bones would twist and crack as their limbs became deformed, the skin turning a putrid green and smelling of rot.
The unfortunate victim's eyes would morph as well, turning pitch black in with a glowing red ring for the iris.
Lastly the transformation would finish as the infected stood still, reaching out to the heavens above in an open location, their body hardening up like stone, their visage now resembling that of a cursed tree.
Where once their eyes held life and memories now only a husk for the Blight remained.
This was the Blight that ravaged all of Terminus, the last Remnant of the Fell God's legacy, and this is what dear Saint Lucent and her band of knights were sent out to cleanse.
For many had become victims of this horrid blood, even the mighty Ashen King could barely hold onto his life, awaiting any potential cure.
Lucent had been one of the few remaining clerics of The Creator, her grace shining down onto her as Lucent braved the deeper lands of infection.
Her faith being tested with each suffering soul she came across, her heart aching as she watched the knights have to put them out of their misery.
For no matter how much she tried to heal them she could not cure them, for the first time in her life the magic she'd been blessed with was not enough.
As their march progressed many of the knights even began to fall as well, the Blight filling their minds and souls.
One by one, the party slowly dwindled down, each one becoming a new marker of the incurable Blight.
Even her dearest friend, Sir Tavish, was no exception, he too became infected by the blight… now unable to wield his shield as his left arm no longer functioned.
How?
How could The Creator let this happen, Saint Lucent thought to herself as she approached the end of her journey.
Before her lies the crater of absolution, the pit which was formed from The Forgotten's wrath… it was the only thing untouched by the blight, a beautiful pool of glowing azure liquid filled the bottom.
Perhaps it was because The Creator had already long since vanished, or perhaps she simply didn't care… to Lucent it no longer mattered.
They had been abandoned, that much was evident, and now she needed to break whatever this cruel fate was.
Silently she walked down into the pit and into the pool, the liquid barely coming up past her ankles, yet she could already feel its effects on her.
The overwhelming power of this pure mana would turn any into an Arch Mage should they drink from it, yet they would not be long for this world.
Reaching down she took the shining liquid in her hands and drank it down, the cool liquid pouring down her throat and sending a slight wave of bliss through her mind as she closed her eyes.
In the next moment pain shot through her chest, power racing through every cell of her body, threatening to tear her apart, yet she held strong as the magic coursed through her mind.
It was in this moment she had reached the deepest reaches of magic, the ability of creation tied to the depths of one's souls.
With her hands outstretched she allowed the magic to flow freely, the spell taking effect as the ground shook and the heavens lit up.
A blinding light overtook the area, and when it died down a tree was in the pit's place.
This tree resembled was unlike anything in the world, the only of its kind… deep glowing crystalline orbs were embedded in it and a singular throne sat at the front.
Sitting in the throne was Saint Lucent, her eyes closed as the tree bore its roots into her, creating the ultimate scapegoat.
The spell truly took effect now, the tree letting out pulses of magic that absorbed the Blight from the land, forcing it into Lucent.
She would take on the pain and suffering of hundreds of thousands of victims, yet she'd never truly die for the tree wouldn't allow it.
It would keep her alive by supplying her with more and more mana, keeping her body alive in a constantly dreaming state.
Now eternally bound to the tree and the Blight she waits on her throne, waiting for the day she is finally set free.
For when she can finally rest, is the day the Blight will truly be gone from our world.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
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