Finished chapter 2. It's rather short, so a quick read. Hope it's up to par with my previous installment.
She could feel the vertigo twisting around her. The sensation was not that of touch or physical nausea, but a subconscious muffling of senses. A steady and constant pulsing vibrated around her, a pale green hue glowing through a thick haze. It was an odd feeling.
Her mind shifted with unease. Feeling? How was she to feel? The last the spirit recalled was the separation of head and body, sinking into unfathomable depths. One with no physical representation should not - could not - experience such emotions. Yet her mind recognized the irony, even in its own statement.
However, the connection between body and mind is not so easily lost. What was once the host of its master lay incapacitated amongst the swirling green mist, idle and powerless. Yet such connection between spirit and the mind was eerily absent. Had the anchor of the brain been discarded elsewhere? The same cold depths did not contain such a crucial piece.
Fighting through the churning fog, the condensed spirit ambled through the weightlessness of an unfamiliar plane. As all Ancients were blessed with an acute sense of telekinesis and magic, the spirit guided herself not with sight but a hazy perception of her surroundings. It was a crude but effective method.
Her path led to an overhanging which surveyed a great span. Below held a gorge, and within it, ghastly creatures. Monsters of green and grey fought amongst one another, clawing and scratching at their surreal flesh. A flash, and a floating spirit much like her own emerged from between the horde. The vermin paused, transfixed, then unleashed a painful moan as they drew the spirit toward their open mouths. Moments later, the soul was devoured, and the creatures again milled around in their ungodly filth.
Hazurah backed away from the edge. What were these abominations? What was this horrid space? Had the Ancients and Hylden alike been damned to this realm when death overcame them? What a loathing place the great One had let them fall too.
The glowing orb retreated farther into the mist, away from such mindless monstrosities. A nook, crevice, any area to flee from such horrors. She wandered aimlessly through the contorted structures of the spectral realm, avoiding the sluagh as they hunted her brethren.
Sanctuary was found amongst the rubble of a long abandoned edifice high above the pit and the lurking sluagh. Beyond, what appeared to be the endless sky moved and swayed like a pool of water. The orb climbed through the ethereal liquid, coming to rest at an ancient doorway. It was adorned in familiar markings, the writings and characters of her people. What had once been her people.
A growing sense of pain and rage rose from within. Her people had so brutally executed her, never considering the implications of their rash actions. Her work, her attempt to halt the inevitable, had been discarded as treachery. And now the race suffered, fighting the imminent extinction she had tried so desperately to avoid.
The specter floated aimlessly, drifting in and around the now dormant Fire Forge. She had read the signs foretold by her kin, etched into stone here. It spoke of a savior to protect and restore Nosgoth, equally representing its annihilator. A redeemer and destroyer unique to his fate.
The spirit rustled and moved with new found arousal. A design unfolded from within the Ancient's mind. Perhaps, she mused, the deliverer of her fate had spoke the truth. If all played out, there would indeed be no rest for this wicked soul.
Thanks for reading. I'll have another chapter up soon!