Where slumber can steel your identity. Dare to become whole again.

Part 1

Beneath the surface of the water dwelled something hopeless. Something vile. She couldn't explain it. The call itself had brought her to this point and claimed a strong grip on her, rooted deep within her soul. She stood at the water’s edge with her hands clenched in tight fists and her elbows pointed back, as if to take on a strong punch to the gut. She stood for a moment in an overly tense and flexed stance with a fury intertwined with pure frustration, passion, and vengeance. Without her mind, her soul’s intent reached out with all of its power. She had officially let it know she'd arrived.

She tilted her head back as if to damn the very sky above her. "I AM NOT YOURS!!"

Her teeth gritted together as her jaw flexed in pure anger and pain.

"I WILL BE YOUR SLAVE, NO LONGER!!!"

It was like a light burst from her very being and a small sonic boom lit off and disrupted the surrounding foliage. Yet, no light was emitted.

The world around her seemed to fade, as if she and the dark lake at her feet were the only ones left in existence. There was a gradual but strong feeling of a deep and earthy rumble, as if the ground were coming to life. Soon, the water frothed, violently rippled, and bubbled out in the middle of the deep dark slurry of murky sadness. The color seemed to have drained from the lush fall trees around her. Suddenly she was lifted off of the ground and pulled out to the center of the lake, levitating just above the surface. For a moment, she felt helpless, and fear grazed her thoughts. If one could see her face, the wideness of her eyes alone would tell you all you needed to know. An overwhelming sensation of crushing depression and defeat washed over her and drained the color from her brilliant green eyes. They glowed no longer, and grey would describe the feeling on its own, but there was more.

Her body slumped and the waves of brutal depression continued to pulse through her being. It was as if all seemed lost. Her eyes resigned from their piercing focus, as if to look off into space.

From the froth emerged a long and vile wart ridden tentacle-like tongue. She could feel the warm and slimy span of its makeup as it began to wrap itself around her leg. Slithering. Sliding. Violating. Her insides wanted to escape her body and her skin felt as if it might leave her behind altogether. The despair brought by its touch was worse than any pain imaginable, worse than the feelings before it. The sense of defeat and sadness brought by its touch could crush even the strongest soul. That is what it liked. That is what it fed on.

Her hair hung over her face as her head hung down toward her chest. “Take my life… I no longer need its comfort…”

Did she actually say it aloud? It was hard to tell the difference between her thoughts inside and those that escaped her now grey lips. But they weren’t her words…

The bubbles below continued to surface and pop sending bits of thick sludge all over her face and body. It seemed hopeless. The intense depressive aura made it seem as though death was why she came. The intense magic made her feel as if there was no point in living any longer. She slowly lifted her head as something caught her eye.

Something was across the lake at the water’s edge. Quickly the flame of hope died out.

“What’s the point...” She thought.

As her eyes came to refocus, she found herself face to face with a shadow floating just above the water’s surface. As the tongue, still protruding out of the water, danced around her body, the vile shadow laughed aloud, taunting her. She recognized it, but in her dreary haze, she couldn’t comprehend. She was looking into her own eyes and soon realized that she was faced with what appeared to be her own self. A dark, evil version. As if from a shadow world built around her reality.

Her eyes became wide again with confusion… “This can’t be real…”

The laugh came again. And in a soft, slippery voice, it said: “Accept ussss. Accccept your fatesssss. Accccept your dessstiny.”

She sat in silence. Observing. Reaching for something. Reaching for any other feeling or emotion.

All seemed lost. Inevitable ending.

Grey and death.

Resignation.

Vile feelings of loathing and hatred were strong in her mind.

She hung there in silence.

It was a gloomy day filled with a rain so light, it was like a constant heavy mist that made it hard to keep his eyes open. Every few steps he would have to wipe his face to relieve the moisture built up around his eyebrows and beard. The constant dripping from his face made him feel slightly eager to find some kind of shelter or break in weather. He ignored his feelings and pressed forward. He wondered to himself why he was even out here. What was the purpose of all of this? Something was drawing him in, but he couldn’t explain it.

As he progressed, the mist only got thicker. There was an apparent fork in the path all of the sudden that wasn’t visible prior due to the thick fog. He hesitated to consider the options, but only for a moment. Something within him chose to take the left trail, heading toward the north. The mist lightened but only enough for him to make out a fallen tree that was mostly covered by the thick foliage around him aside from the small, recessed area that was part of the trail. He made his way over the tree and started to realize the beauty around him as the mist continued too slightly thin.

There was a smell of standing water and rotten wood in the air that started to get stronger as he progressed. It was getting close to time… something told him that it wouldn’t be long. His thoughts were starting to swirl in a tangle of emotions, memories, and a fog of false comfort. The feelings only intensified as he got closer. It was a distraction from the truth. Something was trying to blind him for some reason. He soon realized that what he was experiencing wasn’t real. It was some deep magic that had a profound grip on his mind, and it was like music, dancing in his ears. Reminiscent of a haunting lullaby of sadness and need, shaded in deep colors of fall. At one point it was so intense he could almost taste the hidden veil of misery.

He came within inches of a large body of water before snapping out of it. Something familiar was in the air, something that reminded him of his past, so close yet was out of reach. In this moment, his hope started to crumble, but he wasn’t about to give into it. As he peered into the distance, through the mist, he could just barely make out a figure that appeared to be levitating in the air above the water… or was something holding it there? Just as he made up his mind to investigate, he heard a twig break behind him. He slowly turned his head to peer back and could just make out to figures sneaking up on him.

The figures approached quicker as they realized his notice of their presence. They were dressed in dark leather armor that bore a signet over their heart. Brothers of the Blood Legion. Hoods covered their heads, and the rest of the cowl covered the majority of their faces. They were armed with short swords, daggers, and pouches that no doubt contained poison and the like. Assassins. He could feel their intent thicker in the air than the surrounding humidity.

They had picked up his trail a while back and even though he was aware, he thought he might have lost them. He was wrong but it didn’t matter. His need spoke to something else, and he followed it, almost blindly. They were here for him now. As he turned around to face them, he could feel the crushing weight of depression upon him. He felt like giving up and fell to his knees. The pursuers slowed and laughed as they looked at each other. A revolting satisfaction filled their eyes as they readied themselves for what they came to do.

One of the assassins slipped behind him, grabbed his head and put a knife to his throat while the other came within inches from his face. They were toying with him.

“Well?” Asked one of the Assassins. “Do you have nothing to say?”

He didn’t respond. Silence filled the air as his eyes seemed to dance among deep inner thoughts.

He was lost to the gloomy magic of this place. Dancing among the miserable lullaby that had him in its grip, he could feel more than see the dark cloudy landscape around him. That inner dance started to elevate as the dance turned from a weighed down struggle into a graceful and smooth fluid battle. His body slipped into an increasingly unforgiving display as his inner hope began to ignite. As the dance became more intense, he suddenly flourished with his sword, slipping through the haunting notes, and carving his way through the dark fog and debris. This inner world was filled with shadows and gloom, yet everything had a bright edge, almost beautiful. Haunting. Something in him stirred. He could see a familiar figure in the distance, he could feel its presence. He continued to make his way through the thick weight of black depressive webbing and sludge that soon became this strange world.

He was within mere feet of the figure. Something about her gave him comfort, as if he had known her his whole life but couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He reached out for her and suddenly, a river of memories came flooding back to him in such a rush, his head felt like it might explode. As he gripped his face in pure agony, he let out a scream so intense it shook the dreamlike world around him. As his pain continued, he could feel himself fading back into awareness of what was going on around his body. The pain, fury, love, hate, happiness, and anger all intertwined and released themselves to him without a moment of rest.

His eyes shot open; he was still on his knees with his back to the lake. It was as if time stood still as the figure behind him remained deadly still with the knife on his throat. The one in front, mere inches from his face stood staring at him, saying nothing more. Suddenly, he could feel power welling up inside of himself as his dark brown eyes started glowing bright yellow. The sight caused the assassin to hesitate as he started to speak again.  Suddenly, he let out a roar and the burst of magic that had flooded his soul. The two assassins when flying through the air in separate directions. The one in front was quickly and violently impaled on a large branch on one of the trees nearby while the other had been knocked into the lake. After resting his eyes on the bloody tree entangled assassin, he turned to look for the other. The other one lay face down in the lake, the water surrounding his body started turning dark red.

After ensuring his pursuers were no longer an issue, his gaze snapped to the silhouette in the distance. With a new and refreshed understanding of why he was here, he realized his sword was in his hand. His knuckles burning white with rage, he drove his weapon home and fixed his intent on the realized task at hand.

As she hung there, something familiar grazed her memories. Suddenly there was another boom, much like the one that came from her earlier, but it came from the lake’s edge in the distance.  The sensation was both painful but empowering. It left a sharp ringing in her ears. In this moment, she realized she no longer heard the girthy laugh from the vile presence that held her. Its eyes were searching the water’s edge in the distance. It was distracted.

[To Be Continued....]