Path of Exile Talent Competition

The Karui Shores were beautiful at dawn. The sun would rise from the sea as it did, it would paint the sky different colours, changing again and again as it made its journey across the sky. Today, in particular, the sky started with pale pink, followed by a rich crimson, a pouty orange, and then a gentle blue.

The survivors from Oriath, both Karui and Oriathans, were hustling around, busy in their own tasks, trying to maintain an entirely new society full of people with a complicated history: one enslaver, the other, enslaved. It was a new start, but the scars would remain until they heal and become lines, memories, that would shape the future in a few decades for a new beginning, a new war, a time when exiles could have more than two 6-links, but that was not a concern right now. The concern was to survive and to rejoice as two people came together in love.

The Witch had been training her spectres on how to play instruments. Without any actual air inside them, or the lungs to hold them, she had to resort to making them use drums and maracas. They made quite the decent band within a few weeks of practicing. Who knew that the Redeemer's archers had an ear for music, or lack thereof?

The Duelist had been busy the past few days along with the Ranger and the Shadow, helping in making some decorations. The three had gone in the nearby wilderness at dawn and cut long vines with flowers in them. Then, going back to the camp, where the Duelist's many admirers had quickly tied the vines to arrows, the Duelist and Ranger shot the arrows to the roofs of the houses, as the Shadow jumped from roof to roof, making sure they were sturdy. At one point the Duelist had taken off his shirt, and many women and a few men screamed as if a new god had come to kill them. But really, they were just fawning over a shirtless Duelist, not noticing the few who had fainted at their feet. The Ranger and the Shadow both found it amusing.

The Templar and the Marauder had been busy consoling the Oriathans and the Karui who were still suffering from the shock of the loss of their home, and almost dying twice: once to an ever-hungry god, and the other to a man who might as well have been a god. When they came to know about the marriage, the Templar immediately consulted the happy couple and made preparations with the Marauder to hold a wedding with both Oriathan and Karui elements. The Marauder took an additional step and overlooked the culinary preparations for the day.

The Scion had been going around the settling, helping as much as she could with everything. She had helped pick the songs the witch's specters would play, coordinated the scheme and patterns of vines being hung by the Duelist, the Ranger, and the Shadow, and helped the Marauder and the Templar in finetuning the wedding ceremony, and later explained it to each bride.

As Zana, dressed in her best armour, made her way to the rudimentary altar consisting of incense, a dagger, and a barrel with water, she couldn't believe the day was happening. And as Jun, wearing her newly polished armour, made her way to the altar from the other side, she could not believe that the day was finally here. As both stepped in front of the altar, they felt their hearts beating faster.

"Zana Caeserius" Jun said, looking into the eyes of the explorer she had fallen in love with, "Since the day I met you, I was in love with you. As much as I wanted to talk to you and confess my love, I had my duty before me, and you had yours. I had to avenge my akhara, and you had to save the world. But we no longer have to fight all-powerful immortal beings. We can start a new life, and I want to start mine with you by my side." Saying this, Jun took the dagger and opened a small slit on her finger with it. A drop of blood oozed, and she dropped it in the barrel.

"Jun Ortoi" Zana said, taking the dagger from Jun and looking in the eyes of the veiled master, the warrior she had fallen in love with, "When I first met you, I thought you did not trust me, even hated me to some extent. But you showed me that you do care, and you do trust me. And I want you to know that I trust you with my life, and love you with my soul, till the end of time." And with that, she cut a small slit in her finger, and a drop of her blood fell into the barrel.

The Marauder and the Templar brought two pieces of metal burning brighter than the sun and tempered them in the barrel of water. When the water stopped sizzling, the pieces of metal were wrapped in two pieces of cloth given to Jun and Zana. Twin hitless daggers, sharp and deadly. The daggers would get a hilt after the first year of their marriage.

"I give my love to you, Zana, and I belong to you, until death separates us, and even after that," Jun said, giving her cloth-wrapped dagger to Zana.
"I give my love to you, Jun, until my last breath, and if there is a life after this, I would love you then too," Zana said, giving her cloth-wrapped dagger to Jun.

The Witch's spectres started playing 'The Ballad of Jerra and Romana", the story of the two lovers who fought the skies themselves so they could be with each other. The warrior stared into the eyes of the explorer she fell in love with, and the explorer stared into the eyes of the warrior she slowly befriended, and then started loving. Another challenge could come any day, they knew that. But today, the only thing in their world was each other.

Dear Journal,
I often contemplate if I made a difference in my life. My whole body ached and burned trying to destroy Kitava. I'm so damn tired. I keep seeing the same haunting faces of the multitude of demi gods I have killed. I don't like it. My powers are also the source of much introspection. They sometimes scare me. I scare me. Who says that? Why do I keep using them?
Is it the gems that give me power? Or is it wielding them that gives me power? Could I compare them to weapons? Are they weapons?
I bring the dead back. But never the same, just lumps of flesh, I could have a small platoon or I can have more. I want more.
I remembered being exiled from my home. When I climbed the ranks of power, I couldn't tell if they loved me or feared me. I was their last hope. Kitava is dead by my hands. Yet, I couldn't even stop Sirus from burning down all of Oriath. The flames did look pretty.
Have you ever seen a genocide? Piles and piles of shriveled up corpses in a palace. Experiments for the greater good is what Piety rambled on about. She wanted to see more in her strange experiments. I wanted to breathe life back into them. I couldn't do it. I had to stop her. I needed the key to enter Dominus's keep. I had to to stop him from trying to convert me into his lackey.
Malachai was pretty to look at. I wonder if Dialla kept his heart. Although, he did explode like a bloated whales carcass on a hot summer day when I ended his life. Dialla was never the same. What a shame when you are so in love. So many downfalls I've seen in this world. Who will be my undoing I wonder?
Does that make me mad? So many questions. I'm sitting here in my hide away, thinking back on the amount I've killed. I hear these empty meat sacks moaning in anguish. I'll just make more if they rot away in combat. I don't know their names and quite frankly I don't care.
I just wanted peace. I still yearn for it.
I can hear Zana and Kirac bickering back and forth on which map I should go to next. They don't get that I have my limits. When I can't take them anymore, I just hop into a Rogue Harbour portal, where I am greeted by the crème de la crème of thieves.
Today, Tibbs asked me if I wanted to hit the bath house. He pulled out a vial of “the best bubblies I'll ever have”. I think I will.