Tarran's Story - Hunger Consumes the Horizon

Tarran whips from the rafters to the glowing shape below. Her claws rake splintered beams, and the hall shudders around her.

The violet light blooms wider, flooding every cracked board and broken stone. The chalk charm below is only a tether, and the Elder’s spirit drags itself along it like a hooked wound.

Tarran snaps at the apparition. Her jaws bite only cold radiance at first, but the ghost does not scatter.

The specter thickens, violet light gathering into a stern, almost solid old man. The ward around it presses back against Tarran’s weakened body, and the hunger in her gut twists against the pain.

Below her, the shattered floor gap pulses once, brighter than before, as the apparition begins its final shape.

Tarran lunges on the pulse of violet light. Her jaws open wide, and the stern old face is suddenly inside her maw.

The apparition hits her throat like burning mist, then folds, drawn inward by raw hunger. Cold judgment flares once against her teeth, and is swallowed.

The chalk charm below gives a brittle crack, its last thread of light snapping as the ghost is dragged down whole.

Violet glow leaks from between Tarran's teeth, then gutters out. The floor gap goes dim, and the hall's harsh light returns to shattered wood and dust.

Tarran swallows hard. The pressure in her gut shifts, heavy and still, while the specter's voice is gone.

For one beat, only the ruins remain, and the broken charm lies dead in the debris.