Amethyst
Amethyst stood on the reedy bank of Lake Ire looking across the stagnant waters. Her revenant orange eyes were cast to the far shores, gleaning the minute details from the harsh terrain all around her. Her glum countenance was lost in the recent past, swimming along the lines of memory which lead her to this place. Her final destination.
The searing pain in her left hand had dulled to a distant thrum in the bowels of her head, and although she knew that the hand was lost, the utter impossibility of reaching this point along her lifeline made the sacrifice almost worthwhile. There would certainly be a period of adjustment after the limb completed its crystalline transformation, but she was content to shove that reality aside to savor the minuscule slaps of wetness against the soggy shoreline.
No vegetation grew along the edge of the lake any longer, not since the runnels of hatred which fed the growing basin had tipped the balance. Petrified remnants of the photosynthetic past clawed skyward with eternal longing. The sun’s rays could no longer feed the plants that had been swallowed by the Ire, but the reflected wavelengths were unfazed. Few could claim the honor of seeing the kaleidoscopes of Ire as they swayed with an enthralling gyration.
It was for this light show, for these crystals, that Amethyst had taken the Vow of Egress and quested across the blasted lands which separated the Lake of Ire from the lands of her people. The hatred must cease to flow for her people to survive. To this end, she promised to stop the beating heart of hatred, wherever and whatever it may be.