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Fantasy Shattered Fates: Renewal - A Dark Fantasy Boss Battling Epic

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Euclid Leaf

Metamorphasis, Genesis, Metastasis
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Chapter 0: Sacrifice...

Whether you outright accepted her offer or not, the pale, horned Goddess reaches out and gently grabs your hand.​

Her black talons feel chilling to the touch. An itching sort of sensation. The coldness felt almost alive. It spreads like a rippling tide through you, sending a shiver throughout. You feel your form contract, as if you were being swallowed whole. The light of her soft presence, and that of the gloomy world around disappears in a fast, yet viscous swirl.

As the colors fade away into a whirlpool before your eyes, the last thing you think you see is a toothed smile upon the face of the Goddess.

You are now bound in complete darkness, distant noises screaming and howling in your ears. Words that were almost within reach to comprehend. After a short lulling, you feel an invisible force pressing itself against your body. As though trying to lift past you. You may try to flail your arms and legs, but there is no control in this vast emptiness. Soon, there is a faint light deep below, and you begin to see shadows pass by, long columns that stretch out from above. Who knows how far up they go. But one this is certain now, as you plummet between them towards the light.

You are falling.

A grey disc begins to take shape as you approach the center, your eyes catching stone before you make impact.
When you land, however, there is no pain as you would expect. In fact, you bounce like a rubber ball, rolling off the mossy stone flooring with a bubbly sound.

You are quickly joined by other humanoid shapes, similar to you, featureless, wispy, and confused, all falling down around you like droplets of white rain. There must've been at least a dozen others laying around there in this massive floating stone platform.

As you sit there trying to settle the spinning of your mind, trying understand what was going on, your eyes, not that you really have any, adjust to the dim light of the pale illuminating flowers scattered across the room. This piece of carved rock you were sitting on seemed to be affected by a mysterious force. A few of the massive pillars, having snapped off from the stone foundation, hovered silently above. They were covered by these glistening pale flowers. Like dangling lanterns. Even with their earnest glow, the darkness seemed to stretch out endlessly beyond the edges of the stone.

You begin to look around, grasping for anything that made any sort of sense. At least sense enough. And though you don't find much of significant description, you can't help but notice how old everything looked. Moss and white weeds, with these beds of glistening flowers blooming from them, grew from the cracks of the stone all around, practically tearing portions of the flooring apart. All this overgrowth and floral invasion, it was as though everything here hasn't been touched in many a year. Maybe never at all. The only real notable things were small plinths that were littered around the edges of the ceaseless chamber, some shattered and others whole. Out of what appeared to be 27, only 14 remained intact. There looked to be faint carvings upon them, but you are too far away to distinguish any sort of significance to them.

But would you even be able to tell, even if you were? You can't recall a language, yet you think with words. Or do you? Aside from active thoughts, any attempt to reach back for any sort of former memory is met with fuzzy spaces where they probably should exist.
However, before you can even begin to speak up to one of the other wispy strangers around you, or get up to a better look at the chamber, something rumbles at the center of the stone-etched platform, causing the whole of everything to shake and groan.

You are filled with a crippling feeling of an oddly familiar dread.

Suddenly, the pale light of the flowers warp and dim as a large shadow made itself known, curling inwards as though pulled by a magnet or sorts. What lay at the center of the room was like a monster out of a nightmare, a gangling beastly form with smoldering black eyes-- Eyes that stared with an unnerving coldness. Probably worst of all was how it greeted you. The hunched form dragged itself towards the closest pale wisp and presented them with a crooked, smile filled with jagged bony spines. Much like a beast upon a helpless, scared frozen prey. The creature lowered its great, tall body, it's hollow eyes seemed to pierce into their very soul. A faint whispering sound followed as it closely inspected them from this angle and that, sounding almost like a snickering laugh. Simply looking at the creepy monster made your mind reel and your thoughts crumble, your heart hammering with the instinct to run.

You can't imagine how horrible it must've felt to be that close to it.

After a moment, the accumulation of the incessant snickering, the nonsense of everything, and the maddening gaze, something cracked. A shrill scream pierced the room. The wisp, now clasping their head, scrambled to bolt away from the dark watcher. It was the last thing they did. This creature's face suddenly contorted into a savage frown at this sight, lunging like an arrow toward this unfortunate soul. Spearing them with a single hooked nail, the monster lifted the limp body high into the air and dropped the wisp into a maw of jagged teeth. You can hear bones and the sound of flesh popping as the teeth ground them between each bite, a slender tongue flicking in pleasure as the creature let out a sickening slurp, swallowing the remains for good.

It turns its eyes upon the rest of you and continued to smile, white blood dripping down its lip now.
It slowly shook its head, as though in warning, letting out another snicker.

Again, it choose another wisp and stepped up. You feel your heart sink as you anticipate the same fate. But as it opened its mouth wide over the stilled wisp, poised to repeat the same cruel feasting of the last, the monster suddenly reared back. It's mouth snapped shut and it gazed at the wisp.

A faint whispering can then be heard. A secret transaction between those two and those two alone.

A change of mind?
It seems so, as it nods in what appears to be approval.
A crackle of joints echo the space as it extends an boned arm, pointing first to them with a emaciated, decaying claw, then towards one of the plinths at the end of the platform. Then it moved on to another. Same thing. Then to another. Unfortunately, that next one was killed, though this time falling upon its knees, crying, and begging.

The order was random. It was almost like a game, on who would succumb to the dreadfulness and those who did not.

Each surviving wisp this creature visited seemed to have a look of understanding though, and with it, their wispy pale form changed slightly, gaining a noticeable amount of solidity as they walked to their respective plinth. Some didn't seem very different at all, but others grew vestiges of horns, flowing tails, and other strange things.

When it came to be your turn, the umbral, hollow eyes and terrible visage came close to you. Close enough to kiss. Though I'm sure there was no reason why you'd want to do that, unless you wished to test your luck -- And life. As it hovered around you, the strange whispers, though familiar by now, fill your mind with a stark loudness. The sounds were disgusting, almost like vile fingers digging into your brain and picking apart your very thoughts and privacy. Then, just when you feel like you can't take anymore, words begin to form in the wild, hissing sounds.

"Answer me. Why do you deserve to live? Why should I not eat you too?"

Hollow eyes stare down at you intently as ever, waiting for an answer.
But not very long. Suddenly, the mouth opens wide before you, a row of white-blood stained jagged teeth eclipsing your peripheral.

"Answer now."
 
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It’s funny, having just taken shape moments beforehand the life of a whisp has taken so many new experiences. Well they were at least new in this life, if you could even call it that. One could relate it more to a hellish torment considering the confusion and constant barrage of overwhelming emotions. It was almost maddening! Whatever sanity was possessed beforehand surely would have broken had it not been for the fact that I seem to barely exist! Thought whatever life I held beforehand, no knowledge is held of it. I seem to be living in a paradox, for I am a new creation and yet I also am not. Existing is new for me, and yet it isn’t. Nothing makes sense, there’s no rhyme or reason to be had but instead a black endless void filled with questions, uncertainty, and dread.

Everything happened so quickly. First came the Goddess Nera giving little explanation and comfort as to why I exist in this place, next came the dark void as I fell only to defy the few laws of physics I understand. Up was up, down was down, and to fall from this height was death. And yet I bounced off the ground like it was nothing only to recover and find myself standing in another predicament. White figures joined me in this strange place, and all of them indistinguishable from one another. Of course I was no different, just another white whispy form with no tangible hold to reality. We’re simply here for now, and it seems we won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. As for the final encounter to be brought upon my old and new life was a beast, horrifying and menacing that gripped the room in fear. Slunking about acting as a giver and taker of life, deciding which of us are to live and approach the plinths ahead and which of us are to perish in its sharp, gaping, and snickering maw.

For a moment death seemed.... oddly alluring. To be freed of this terror, torment, and confusion seemed like a saving grace that my lack of a soul might find peace. But then something burned inside of me, a will to live. No longer was I just a whisp with no hold to this realm of existence, but now I had a hold to one single thing and that was my old yet new life. I wasn’t going to let myself perish to easily no, instead I will push forward and survive.

This newfound feeling of will stayed even when the Beast stood inches from my face, it’s horrid face staring into to mine. Though I suppose I wasn’t one to judge, after all I didn’t have a face of my own. Maybe mine would be worse looking. However that’s a situation for another time, right now I need to focus on making sure I even live to see myself with a face. The Beasts question sparked something in my soul. Why do I deserve to live? What kind of insanity is this?! I’ve been thrust into this world I know nothing of and now I’m being questioned by this thing why I should be allowed to live! I haven’t even been given a chance! As angry as I felt, I still feared the beasts greatly and did not dare express my displeasure with it. For fear that I might be it’s next meal. Clearing my throat, catching my breath, my heart beating out till there may be nothing life, I gather my courage and speak.

“Because you have no reason to kill me. I am but a formless creature with no purpose or tangibility to this life. I pose no threat nor any gain to you should you choose to devour me. Although, while I know nothing of this life or why I’m here I do understand a rule of survival. The biggest and baddest of beasts reign supreme, and thine image fits all description necessary for this law. So I suppose my life is in your hands, though a frail whisp will do nothing to fulfill your appetite. However,” My lack of eyes looked dead on into the beasts,”I cannot promise that I won’t be a threat later.”
 
This was not life, nor death truly. The newly-formed Wisp rose to its feet, formless save for a distinct humanoid shape. With unblinking ethereal eyes it looked about the room, examining the others who stood beside itself. They too, were formless and barely there, spirits of this half-dead room it'd seem. The figure took no time to think on reality or any of that, merely accepting what its eyes beheld, and its own complete lack of identity. After all, with no memory in hand, there was nothing to miss. As much as the wisp would have liked to know, such questions were pointless if there was no one to answer them.

The pathetic wisp stood in silence, baring no response to the strange avian-esque Goddess, who seemed to straddle a line between beauty and grotesque. There was simply, nothing to say. With no memories, nor purpose to exist, there was little need to think or speak, simply to follow. The wisp glanced downwards to its formless body, raising its translucent white hands, staring at them in silence. Formless, naked in this empty gray room. The figure could be certain of little, save that were it living, it would extend no trust to this goddess, with her almost hollow smiles. As the Goddess extended her hand, the wisp did not react, merely staring at her. Perhaps it was defiance, perhaps mere apathy. The wisp itself wasn't exactly sure of its own emotions, having only existed for such little time. The dry, cracked feeling of the talons against its hand lasted only a second, before that hollow smile bid the wisp farewell.

The wisp was falling, alongside the others into... well, into nothing. A glance up told the wisp that it was falling from nowhere, nor to anywhere. There seemed nothing but void around the wisp now, though the sensation of the wind lashing against its ethereal form could be felt. The figure rolled to the side in the void, a long shadow roaring past, as some invisible hand gripped the wisp's form. Slowing, they were slowing down, as the 'hand' seemed to pull up on it. One glance to the side, and back down, the ground appeared all too suddenly. The wisp brought its arms before its face, attempting to adjust itself in mid flight, before striking the ground with a strange sound, and bouncing back upwards. The wretched wisp did not expect this, staying slightly curled until it stopped moving. The figure lie there, feeling the flat of the stones against its back, before rolling to the side, and pressing its semi-existant palms to the cold, smooth stone, pushing itself up. The figure looked around, before taking a stand on the aged stone, glancing around to the glowing flowers and vines that had torn apart the aged stone disk they stood upon. Broken, floating pillars, strange lights, and carved objects surrounded the wisp, but they were all in a sense unimportant.

With no knowledge to assess anything, the only option was simply to accept. Reality had no limits for what it could accept at the moment, and the wisp would not push this. The other formless hollow beings were here too, some expressing fear, something which seemed familiar to the wisp. It however, was unable to touch such feelings, perhaps not remembering them. After all, the wisp was no person, perhaps only a fraction of one, a portion of a soul, or perhaps even the husk of what used to be a person. Now, the wisp existed only in absract, but... the mass of shadows appearing in the center of the room, was anything but.

Dread gripped the wisp's core, as the shadows took shape, a wretched misshapen thing, a mistake given form. Teeth, rotten nails, and black form. It breathed rot and consumed the first wisp it presented itself to, the teeth giving the wisp form as its teeth pierced them, their screams fading as soon as they came to be. The monstrosity smiled, its wretched teeth painted in blood, as it began to approach them, one by one, judging and sorting. The 'worthy' were sent to stand by piles of decorated rubble, and the 'unworthy' were devoured. Neither beast nor wisp said anything, until the 'moment' was reached, when the wisp would either walk away, or begin to scream, beg, or cry.

Eventually, the creature approached the wisp, and the wisp looked up at it, beholding its horrid face. In its mind, it grasped something. Not memory, but... instinct. The wisp assumed a flat, stoney face, if it could even express such a thing. The wisp felt the dread and fear, the fingers in its mind as the others did, but like rain upon the mountain it, stood against them in quiet defiance. Such things would not break the wisp, fragile as it was. Resilience, and a grim, fatalistic determination to persevere no matter the suffering, those two things made up whatever the wisp was.

The monster spoke, not with words, but with thoughts that rattled through the wisp's head like... creatures of darkness, with which the wisp could pair no name. This was pain, this was horrible of course, but the wisp, whatever it once had been, had endured many painful and horrible things. It was better simply to keep a still face, and march on, than to panic over such things, as much as the legs turned to mud and the will to dust.

The wisp found a voice, flat and without identity, but a voice. Words hung in its throat, clambering to escape, to be the first response. Begging, pleading, reasoning, cursing, all of them competed, perhaps semblances of the wisp's former identity, but there were of no use. The wisp felt a cold in its mind, a simple, calming thought. This didn't matter. The wisp didn't matter, none of the wisps mattered. They were insignificant, but despite that, they had a will, and wills were strong. "This husk of a form does not deserve to live. Neither do you. Eat this body, and I'll eat you too, biting and fighting until the end. That is all we can do." The wisps' speech was flat and without tone, the being keeping its gaze on the beast. The words, although odd, held meaning. The wisp would fight, perhaps not to survive, as the wisp had such little grasp of life as was, but simply to spite the beast.
 
Falling, all I recall is near endless falling. The void that surrounds me has been my world for as long as I have existed. Who am I? What am I? Do I exist? What does it mean to exist? Falling for so long gives one plenty of time to contemplate their existence. This form is new yet old, it IS yet it ISN'T. My appearance is that of a wispy collection of white light. Something about this form feels both natural and unnatural at the same time. Whatever I am, whatever this blackness is... I know that I grow tired of it.

A flicker of a memory appears within my mind. Grasping it with fervent desperation, I recall a woman. It may be more appropriate to call her a creature. She was the monster who sent me into this literal downward spiral. Anger swells within my being and I find myself in a room. Looking around, I see many other figures such as myself. They are beings of wispy light as well. As I try to communicate with them, another beast reveals itself. Circling around the room, it begins selecting entities to either kill or direct towards strange plinths. It was a disgusting and utterly horrifying eldritch abomination that skulked about the room with malicious intent.

One after another, the various wisps that arrived with me are either sent off or killed right in front of me. Is that all there is? Is this the point of my existence? Live or Die based on the whims of inhuman creatures? What even am I? Anger begins to consume me as I sort through every memory I have. The goddess, the void and the Beast taking the lives of those around me. I despise them, I hate them with every fiber of my being. Finally the Beast comes over and asks me a very important question.

"Answer me. Why do you deserve to live? Why should I not eat you too?"

That question brings a chuckle to my lips. Laughter? It would seem that this thing has awakened my sense of humor. Focusing on its Umbral eyes with a defiant smirk, I let the Beast know exactly why I should live.

"Its simple really.... because I'm going to become the God of this world..... You who aren't even top of the food chain beware.... I shall unseat the Goddess and become God. If you wish to live long enough to continue your duty of judgement... let me go and stay out of my way"
 
Existence. One day, a day just like any other. For how could one know to number the days when all of Time had stopped moving? What was one hour to the next? An abstract concept, made by mere mortals to neatly compartmentalize the goings and happenings, the events and shapings of what made the present, the present. And by extension, all that had happened the past. And that which should come, the future. And so when all happenings stopped happening, so too did Time cease to exist. An eternity of not knowing. It wasn't a long time. For there were no shorts, no longs. Just...

An Existence. A stirring of clouded depths. A minute shift in the profundities of a being. Forgotten who it'd been by then, numbed by the torture of being an unliving for ages, drifting in the void of nothingness. So the sudden feeling, if indeed it could be called that, was like a spark of light in a fathomless dark, a flash of colour in endless grey. It withdrew from it at first, afraid that the colour might carry a taint. Of what, it did not know. But to know that it did not know, after so long, it was frightening. It watched from a distance, cautious. Curious. For there was nothing like it that it'd ever seen. It drifted closer. Then reached out, and touched it. A warmth, cradled in the palm of it's... extensions. Appendages. Then all of a sudden, it disappeared into its being. Panic! Where had it gone?! Its world grew brighter and brighter, the dark muted grey beaten back by an unknown source of light. Blinding light, scorching at fragile skin? It screamed, but there was no sound. Grew brighter still, if at all that was possible. A flash. Then the gentlest gossamer of pale wispy light glowed anew again.

What was this place? Why am I here? It called itself Nera? A Goddess? What was a Goddess? Soul? Lost? Why did such a thought evoke such impassioned swellings in the core of my being? Thinking came easily then. But the soundless voices and markless writings that floated through the wisp so naturally was as much a source of wonderment, as was the world it now found itself in.

It was speaking again. "Will you accept this fate, little one?"

Fate? A path? One way, none other? Accept? Imposed, choiceless? It extended a pale gleaming appendage. And then it was falling.

Awareness came back once again. Another place. It fell. Far below. Or above? Couldn't tell. There was no pain. Should've smashed a knee. Knee? It stood. Vision unsteady. Shaky supports, legs weak. Wisps aplenty. Others. Greying stone columns. Broken. Floating... Magic. Old, very old. Translucent flowers, small and frail. Easily crushed. Yet glimmering in a land of umbral shades. The wisp bent low, a hand reached forth to possess till a pale bloom was now held in clutching grasp. A contrast against the overbearing gloom. A thought sparked.

"Seeker's Light-" But the words went unvoiced. A shattering rumble from the center. Then a misshapen horror sprang forth. The formless given form. Twisted limbs and smoldering voids for eyes. It dallied no latter. Darting towards The Other in a blur. A crooked smile. A horrified wail, keening against the hollow expanse. Then it was over. The wisp blinked. Eyes opened once again. The Grotesque was before it.

Pellucid bloom fluttered to the earth. Soiled. Tainted.

"Answer me. Why do you deserve to live? Why should I not eat you too?"

Whispers. Voices. Hollow wails and screeches. Tearing into thoughts. Defiling. The Wisp stared at the gaping maw of death. What manner of twisted existence would permit such a thing to live?

"Answer now."

Jagged bony spines filled its hungry void. A devourer. Ravenous. Terrifying. Beautiful.

A pale hand reached forth, as if to cradle the misshapen visage.

"A gift, once given, cannot be returned..-" Voiceless words. The Wisp spoke.

"None deserve to die... Only those that seek to take that which does not belong to them..." A keen-edged warning? A smog of forlorn sadness? It spoke in one, but two was heard.


Euclid Leaf Euclid Leaf : So I didn't know if it's open or close to those that haven't voiced interest from before. I'm just going to post this as my application since there is no CS thread for that! I've got to sleep soon as I've a full day of work coming up, and my muse is starting to hit. Before it leaves me, I thought I'd write instead of dallying. I hope my application is fine for you, if it isn't, do let me know and I'll be on my way! Cheers!
 
Ah, so beautiful, so elegant, so terrifying. The beauty of this being both unsettled and mesmerized the viewer at the same time. Truly supernatural. Incomprehensible thoughts entered the mind of those who viewed her, truly strange. A superior entity, a goddess, one who had just taken this wisp's hand with an unnatural touch. Their first thoughts trying to understand the ominous, magnificent woman. Though, this was snatched away at a moment's notice.

They were ripped away from their surroundings and the goddess, the final expression exchanged between the two burned into the individual's mind. Some senses were overwhelmed, while others entirely extinguished. It was as if a terrifying beast had wrapped it's tendrils around the their sensitive eyes, blinding them from all light that may pour into the retina, while it whispered incoherent tongues into his ears, in a threat to shatter the wisp's mind and warp the wisp's consciousness into what it so desired. They felt their body begin to move, but without control. Soon, the senses began to return, as the wisp's eyes flickered moreso to life, with a faint light entering their gaze. Along with said light, pillars also entered their field of view, with the sensation of falling suddenly becoming very prominent. Though, even so, panic did not fill their mind. Why would it? Falling to their death was the least of worries, when they were unsure of their own reality, If they fell to their death now, perhaps they would go back the empty, void they were in before, where the concept of existence was not a bother to their mind, as they did not have a mind to use. Their eyes were agape as their wispy form made contact with the ground, with their expectation being for everything to go dark. They were met with confusion, as in fact, they didn't even feel injured from it. They could still move, strangely enough to them.

They brought their head from the wild moss that grew upon the floor that they landed upon, their head craning upwards to look at where they had fallen from. Strange, a dark void. It was as if it stared back at them, edging him to take his gaze elsewhere. Though, from this void, they began to see others who fell like they had. A mere assumption, as he wasn't sure would these figures were exactly, though they seemed to be experiencing a similar fate. Upon further notice, all of these wispy beings looked the same. Without true features or distinguishing uniquity. No longer staring directly upwards at the void, they instead peered at those who were on the floor next to them, though they did not dare say a word. In fact, what would they say? Their mind thought coherent language, though they knew not what to speak.

Plastered upon the floor were beautiful flowers, which the wisp looked upon closely. It brought some comfort to his mind, to look at something so fragile and delicate, much like themself. Taking a second glance at the void, they had noticed pillars that seemed to defy physics - or, what they seemed to understand what was true. Even with no definitive knowledge, they knew it wasn't right, it was not natural. Similar flowers to the ones that sprouted from the ground grew upon these pillars as well. As he stared, the void lingered in his mind, even out of focus, tempting him to look away, back towards the wisps that surrounded him. The plinths scattered within the chamber they laid in were what caught his eye the most, out of anything. While the rest of the room seemed wild, untamed, these plinths seemed to be managed and clean - besides the ones that were broken.

Quickly, an ominous presence entered, the wisp having an overwhelming sense of fear bestowed upon their mind. The room had not changed, though, what was there to feel? This oppressive fear was turned into a reality when as light shifted and something else poured into his consciousness. He looked upon a ghastly, disfigured creature at the center of the chamber that they sat within. With only two eyes, it somehow managed to stare down everyone within said chamber simultaneously, looking deep into the soul of the individual,while threatening it with terror and hostility. Unsightly. The wisp thought to itself, though perhaps that would be considered a compliment to a being of it's stature. Looking at it alone was unbearable, and as it approached one of the other wisps, their unsettled mind began to grow more and more fearful as it grew closer. When it reached where it seemed comfortable, hearing it "speak" filled the wisp's mind with even more terror. They knew not what it was saying, though it was terrifying nonetheless. Much like the goddess' grin to him before she departed, the wicked frown upon it's face was similarly imprinted upon his consciousness. An entity like that should not be allowed to exist. The wisp is whispered to seemed overwhelming with terror, screaming, before the creature quickly brought it to it's end. What was going on? Would they all meet that fate, or was survival a possibility? That was a question for when it came their turn, the wisp supposed. The sound of the creature devouring the wisp was absolutely sickening and haunting. Even formless, it seemed to have so much to crunch, to destroy. It seemed almost as if the sounds origins weren't from the body of the wisp being destroyed, but simply due to the creature's mere movement of it's jaws. If the wisp was capable of vomiting, it surely would at the sight, truly traumatizing.

As the next wisp it encountered was seemingly spared, hope filled their thoughts, which, if only for a moment, was able to suppress the fear. If they were able to live another day, they would definitely take it over death. They wanted answers, they wanted to understand this reality that was brought upon them.

They watched as a similar fate to the first wisp was bestowed upon the next. A pattern. It appeared as if they would be spared if they did not openly show their fear to the beast, if they stood with confidence? The beast went through a few others before it became their turn, the moment they had been waiting for.

Face the face with the beast, it was as if everything in their vision was warping. Their vision tunneled to gaze only upon the beast's mangled features, which filled their mind with a feeling of isolation. Combined with the threatening, terrifying aura of the creature and it's form, it truly destroyed and picked apart the mind the more that they stared. Through the whispers that spoke nothingness, they began to hear words in their mind. It was as if they were their own thoughts, though they were put there by someone else. Someone unwelcome, not belonging within their mind.

Why should they live? Why shouldn't they, perhaps. They wanted a future, or, at least a chance to see what the future held for them.

As they spoke to the beast, they tried to stand with utmost confidence and certainty. As much as they were capable of mustering, anyways.

"Thou has no reason to bring me to death's door, thy benefit being minimal to none. To be brought into this world would have been a waste, beast, if thou remove me so soon. Let me prosper, let me grow. Allow my life, simply due to my will to move forward, beast."
 
Out of nothing came something.
It hadn’t fallen asleep, yet it awoke all the same; confused, frail, and alone…?
No.
It was not alone.

There was another, a woman with a sad beauty to her, like the broken pillars she sat among or the way the pale trees of the area twisted in their state of wither. She seemed to gleam with light from some angles, yet cast a shade in others.

It felt small before her gaze, hounded by a strange sense of...shame? Though that was mostly overshadowed by the relief of not having to be alone anymore. The goddess, who introduced herself as Nera, then began to speak about the state of the world and It’s place within. A last hope?

“Y-yes. I will do all that I can!” It answered a little too quickly, driven by a sudden instinct to help.

Everything that came next was a blur. The goddess’ hand reached out, the ground sunk below, and suddenly It was falling into darkness. As It fell it became aware of others like it. The hollow of its chest swelled at the sight of it. They were strangers now, but perhaps they would be friends later. It hoped so.

Their decent ended with a light bounce, scattering It apart from the others. When it came to a stop it found itself among strange flowers. One look and It’s heart was captured. So delicate, yet they were the only light brave enough to stand up against the encroaching gloom. It gently cupped a hand around one of the blooms and watched as the light seeped out between translucent fingers. So brilliant. It didn’t want to leave just yet, so it decided to stay where it was, basking in the flowers’ glow.

The gentle quiet was soothing, until it was broken by the sound of gnashing bone. It whipped around too see a grotesque black figure, white blood rolling down its twisted maw. "N-no!" It tried to shout, but its voice was no more than a sigh of wind. It drew its hands over its mouth and was frozen in shock as the lumbering creature made its way from wisp to wisp, eating those who displeased it in some way. Soon enough it stopped before the flowers and weeds, looking down with eyes like hellfire. Invisible fingers forced their way into It's mind and filled its head with horrifying sounds, but it managed to stay still by thinking of one of the glowing flowers instead of the blood-covered maw just inches away. Even if it was an end, those flowers would be a worthy last thought.

The creature asked a question and It frowned, clawing desperately at the shreds of its mind in search of a reason. “I…” It started, but nothing came up. It couldn’t find a reason why it should live. So it answered honestly.

“I don’t know why I should live while others don’t. Maybe there isn’t a reason, but I won’t know unless I try to find it.” It said, looking at the creature's eyes. While they seemed like chips of hell at first, the longer It looked at them the more... empty they seemed. A flash of pity crossed It's mind. “But I made a promise and I won’t give up on it. I’ll give it my best… maybe that will be enough.” Then, without thinking, it smiled.

It would be lying if it said it was unafraid but there was something else, rising up with a fragile strength like the flowers below. Hope. If the world’s hope fell on so few, then it would not give up on hope either.
 
Waking up to the greyness around the formless shadow, a repetitive pulse surged through the mass of wisps and crackled like energy. The familiar sensation of movement, the sonata of a life returned as the wisp began to breathe. A glassy mist seeped out of the wisps mouth with the exhale and dissipated as quickly as it came. Reaching out to rest a hand to its head the wisp stopped as what should have been a limb came to view. Should it have been a limb? Yes, I'm certain. Looking around for a reflection the wisp looked down to see its unfocused from staring back at it. This is not right. But why? Running a misty figure of a hand across a unrecognizable face, worry began to set in.

Too early to think of the when and where the wisp's attention was taken by a strange sound that called to it. Taking a full turn, its vision scraping across the strange ruins, to find the source. There was another crackle of energy as it realized this sound was within itself. Will ran through the form, unrealized purpose that was lost in the dark haze of their mind. Holding its formless self close the sound began to break and weave within itself and rise to a powerful Crescendo that exploded into a passionate pulse, causing the wisp to stumble back ever so slightly, shifting some ruble. The debris tumbled along crackling against the ground and pulled the form's attention the the emergence of the red stilted sun, staring like a demonic eye upon the wisp.

Trying to push out a word the wisp was cut off as a soft voice spoke out right behind its ear. Jumping back it turned to face the source and froze, unable to register what was right in front of it. Listening to this strange creature, named Nera, explain herself, the wisp tried to scrape at the shifting haze of its mind. Desperate to find reason in what was going on, the powerful wave of questions it held encompassing the shallow pool of knowledge it possessed, and that pulsing series of sounds. What? Others? A lost soul? Stepping back at the hand the Goddess Nera extended, this lost soul looked into the predatory eyes. It couldn't move couldn't decide, it didn't want to decide.

Without show of action the Goddess grabbed at the lost soul's hand, a shock of the talons against its formless skin caused its whole begin trun. A heavy weight encompassed it and began to pull it away from this plane. Watching as the light and color reflected in itseyes was slowly being consumed by blackness, its eyes clinged to the remnants of what it could see. All that was left was the toothed smile upon Nera's face as the lost soul was engulfed in darkness.

Tumbling through the darkness its eyes darted around trying to pinpoint the distant noises, to no avail. Feeling a invisible rush push against its amorphous body a heavy tug pulls it down quickly towards a strange grey disc. Covering its hazy face to protect something from the impact, it let out a soft yelp as it bounced like rubber and plopped onto the mossy floor.

Too exhausted from nearly dying it sat there trying to catch its breath. Body still shaking it looked around as its eyes adjusted to the shaded light surrounding it. Noticing the other humanoid shapes moving around the strange stone planes and pillars. It was strangely beautiful, peaceful even. The mind can warp anything to comfort when pushed to it, with so much unanswered, peace was needed in this moment. However, the peace was snatched away as the ground beneath it began to shake and a wind of fear shot through the intangible body and paralyzed it in place. Energy crackled through every inch of the misty form as it felt a terrifying sensation that was strangely familiar.What is this? I...I feel so heavy, as if I'm rooted to the ground, this is ..dread. Body shifting it regained control of itself and watched the moving mass of true horror rise up. Watching as it went to one of the other lost soul and tore the wisp to shreds, gnashing its bones and flesh in the monsters gnarled mass of teeth.

Eyes following the creature as it went to each wisp something stirred within this lost soul. Rage, adrenaline, confidence, it was not sure, but it was enough to keep it from running. One by one its turn grew closer until it was face to face with this repulsive creature. A faint whisper echoing in its mind as the creature moved and coiled, joints popping from the effort. It disgusted this lost soul and its whole body seemed to ripple with repulse and sharpen with resolve. Feeling it circle and hiss like a predator playing with its food, the voice echoed clearly through the claws piercing its mind.

"Answer me. Why do you deserve to live? Why should I not eat you too? Answer now."

"I..." Pausing at the surprise of its voice, there was a melody echoing underneath every syllable. Letting out one encouraging breath, another crescendo rose up in its mind, invigorating every word with each note. "This is not my finale. I cannot and will not die here. I have a greater purpose then to be your food, creature!" Clenching a massless fist its voice rang clear and hostile. "You can try to consume me, but you'll regret it. I will not fall so easily."
 
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Falling... it's not a situation you'd hope to find yourself in suddenly now is it? After meeting a random Goddess who told you you're the worlds last hope, which is strange on it's own accord, now you are falling. It could see others around it falling, all with the similar formless shape, they were all approaching the ground but, for some reason it felt little fear of that fact. The Goddess had said they were this worlds last hope, so it doubted that it would die here, after the Goddess sent them down herself. Landing however was surprisingly painless and ungraceful, it landing in a small patch of what looked like moss.

Upon landing in the moss it felt no incline to sit up and just continued to lay there. For some reason when it landed in this position it felt a strong sensation to just rest, it wasn't tired it just wanted rest. So the nameless creature continued laying there listening to the commotion around it, staring up at the darkness above. It knew some form of danger stood in the room along with it and the other nameless creatures, but for some reason it was content with leaving things as it was and not worrying too much about it.

So, it didn't. Thus leading towards a large beast with razor teeth looming above it. It could sense it's murderous aura from it, that could easily tell you if you moved wrong once you would be faced with the jaws of death. It continued staring back at it though, some had lived while others had perished at it's hands in this very room so it was obvious that it could have a chance of living, or whatever you would call what they are doing, if It merely waited to see how.

Painfully it listened to the static in it's head increase as the beast glared back at it, clearly it was that thing's doing. Among the static words began to form in a deep voice, asking why it should let the nameless creature live. It stared back at it in a way that could be considered not caring. It didn't freak out or worry about it, It knew that it could answer this question like others most likely had and survive just as they did. So, it spoke to the creature with a bored voice,

"Kill me if you like, in the end it is your decision and nothing I can say will sway you in that. My life is in your hands just as is all the others that stood in this room, I trust that you can make this decision yourself, as it is presumably your job, without the help of a blabbering soul."
 
For each who spoke with an Active tone; The Suspicious Eye The Suspicious Eye Gaius Danius Griinia Gaius Danius Griinia Siren77 Siren77
The dark being snarled upon hearing your defiant words, snapping their teeth shut with a loud crack that whips through the air. For a split a moment, you believe that your newfound life was over then and there. But you realize that you do not feel pain. Not any physically, at least. The swirling, discomforting pressure in your head suddenly pulses.

The beastly,decaying skull had pulled back and was staring at you. There seems to be a tint of interest in the hollow eyes now.
A light chuckle, a gurgling snicker begins to clamor from deep within your mind.

"Haha...! Such a charming display! So you still have your wits about you, unlike those others." it says, lickings its bloodied lips. Though you have no nose, or any other sensing method available, it somehow reaches you through your wispy form. The scent of blood is surprisingly familiar, though you have no past memory of it.
"However, you are empty. You are lost, purposeless, a nothing made reborn. Hm. Yet your words ring of something. Of a strength found somewhere. Perhaps...?" it blinks once, the hollow sockets shimmering now with streak of black smoke, "Hm. No, none of it matters at this point. You are nothing now. In the present. But perhaps to find strength when there is none, is the greatest show of strength of all!"

Nodding quickly, it looks down at you, "Yes, I see it within you..."

And so a bone claw extends forward and points down at your chest.
For each who spoke with Passive tone; seasonedcat seasonedcat Juju Juju kasigi kasigi
The creature pulls back slowly, the whispering echoing loud through your ears and mind. The snickering ever present.

"Heheh... You would so easily place your fate in my hands, and accept my judgement? The judgement of my sullen, failing hands?" its eyes spark with a tinge of humor, as the towering shadow steps back to give you a bit of space. Just a bit. Though you have no nose, to speak of, the stench of blood still sours your unseen olfactory sense. Perhaps it is felt through you, instead of through a medium such as one.

"I would say you are a fool, if not for the fact that you have no other choice. Do you?" it asks, almost questioning itself, "Hm. Of course not. Not yet. Yes, existence is about choices. Those we make, and those we can only accept. But soon, you will have to make choices too. No longer can you let it be up to others around you. And all choices will have a consequence. Even now, as I make my own. There will be a consequence. Will you be ready to bear that weight? I wonder..."

The snickering concedes suddenly, "You had said your life was up to me? No, it does not. Even passivity is an action. Even the gentlest ripples in a great body of water can form a tide..."

And so a bone claw extends forward and points down at your chest.
For each who spoke with Neutral tone; Lekiel Lekiel SirDerpingtonIV SirDerpingtonIV
The cold gaze grew stronger, the menacing jaws closing shut as the creature lets out a curdling snicker. The disembodied voice speaks once more through the cloud of disemboweled whispers coursing through your mind.

"So, you still have your wits about you, huh...?" straightening out, it looks down at you from far above. The rotten scent of blood, though how you can possibly smell without a proper olfactory organ or sensor left up to the imagination, had begun to recede. Though just barely.
"Your answer is not clear, of active or passive intent. I see a mixture of both. You neither accept nor reject my answer. I do not blame you for providing such a compounded response. This new life is confusing, and your mind might still be shattered and fragmented. Perhaps it is an impurity of the ritual we had used. Or perhaps this fragmentation was always so, in your case? Opinions and thoughts may be coerced into change, but never can one's integral nature. As twisted, or beautiful, it may be."

As it speaks, the long, skin-flayed skull begins to tilt slowly to an unnerving angle. With the ever-changing shadowy form before you, the snickering remains ever-present.
"Heheh... But that makes you all the more worthy for the daunting task set out before you, does it not? To bend and change to the wicked whims of this cruel world, to accept the madness with such open arms... Though I wonder which path you will choose. Or even if you will..."

The whispered snickering grows ever louder, teeth clattering together. "Hehe...! How amusing, indeed! You have fulfilled my request. You gave me an answer. And so I shall do so in return..."

And so a bone claw extends forward and points down at your chest.

The long finger looked like the tip of a large blade as it comes to a stop before you. Less than an inch away. This was a finger from the opposite hand, one tipped by straight, elongated claws, much different from the curled ones that was used to impale the rejected wisps. Those ones, and that hand itself, hung low to the side, appreciatively away from you.

"You see... there is no wrong answer. No. So long as you act. As doing nothing at all, is the worst Sin."

The voice seems to be louder than ever now. Perhaps the outstretched finger focused this telepathy?

"To act regardless of the consequences. To act against fear, uncertainty, and doubt. This is the first virtue of a 'Hero' -- Courage. This aspect, you possess. But resolution of mind and Will is not enough. Not at all. The next virtue is Sacrifice... What are you willing to sacrifice for this new life, for strength to act upon your Courage? What can you, a nobody -- a nothing, possibly sacrifice, you must wonder? Haha... You will see."

At this moment, no doubt compelled by the shadowed beast, your cloudy mind is graced with a vague memory. Just one. However, what rose from within your mind was not an image or picture that surfaced within the muddled pool of fleeting thoughts. But a single word. Though you cannot properly hear it, you feel this memory is important to you in some respect. After a moment, you realize that this isn't any word being whispered to you. This was your old name. You get a sense that this is your choice, something worthy of sacrifice. Though you are given a second longer to decide, you feel the creature growing impatient, its jaw looming ever closer to you now.

"Is this little thing precious to you? You may keep it, if it means so much. But know this; these old memories are heavy, cumbersome. I know, I know this..."

-- Do you choose to keep this past memory or give it up?
 
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Formless wisps of eyes glaring daggers at the monster as it snarled it prepared itself to fight. Watching the quivering movements as it grew closer, it watched as the monster snapped its teeth shut. Stepping back with a arm up to protect itself, air whooshed around the lost soul, its wispy body flickering from the rush of air. Body pulsing with energy like a firecracker it was surely dead, yet the rhythm continued to pulse within it, reassuring it that they were still alive. Lowering its arm it clawed at its head, a soft pain began to pound against the base of its internal song.

Following the skull of the beast the lost soul frowned as it heard this monster laugh at them. The monsters eerie voice gurgled and growled across its mind, as if a clawed hand was gently stroking the crevices of its mind. Listening steadily, the wisp lowered its hand and steadied its shoulders. Standing tall against the beast as it complimented it, it thought. Suppressing the urge to shudder as the monster licked its bloodied lips, the scent of blood migrating through this lost souls flickering body. The sensation of smelling such a thing was unsettling and alluring all at the same time, clenching its fist the lost soul shifted its weight in silence keeping its thoughts, hopefully, to itself.

It apparently knows a lot more than I do. Eyes narrowing, the wisp watched as it nodded and postulated a strength within it. As the long clawed finger moved to its chest the soul didn't back down instead daringly extended it out. The booming voice startled the lost soul for a moment, it was unexpected, but the words took its fear in and turned it to curiosity. Unable to scrape through the shallow pool of memory to recall Sin, the wisp glazed over the term to listen to the monster continue its explanation.

Courage? Sacrifice? What was this monster saying?

Feeling a strange shift in the shallow mist of its mind, the soul felt something as it dived into this new area. The waters of the mind still shallow the depth only fell slightly but the rush hit the lost soul hard. At first it was just a simple quiver, a strange sensation that perfused within this lost soul. Wrapping it in a warm embrace that instantly brought up nonexistent tears to its formless eyes. Everything tightened as if the embrace coiled around the wisp and steadied its fluttering existence. "What...is?" The question pushed itself out of the lost souls mouth softly, coming from a horse throat choking up with emotion. The soul knew the answer, it was a key, it was an identity, a proof of existence, it was its name. But why? What reason would it be known to me now? The realization struck the soul as quickly as it asked its question, its name was worthy of losing.

Feeling the monster loom closer, the weight of this precious name began to crush this lost soul. It tore itself as the seams at the thought of losing something so precious when it's only been found.

"Is this little thing precious to you? You may keep it, if it means so much. But know this; these old memories are heavy, cumbersome. I know, I know this..."

-- Do you choose to keep this past memory or give it up?

"You're a greedy creature, do you know that?" Thinking heavily of what it would mean to lose something that it just recieved, something so precious. Hard to reach, hard to hear, but it was something this lost soul knew held a warmth that steadied its shaking existence. However, if this lost soul could stand up to this terrifying monster and find its own way to steady itself without it, then it didn't need it. The preciousness and weight it carried was like a shackle to the lost soul, pulling heavily down and stopping the words from its mouth from pushing through. Wiping the second welling of painful emotion seeping through its figure and towards what would be its eyes, the lost soul took a shaky breath. Looking up at the monster it push all its energy to glare at the monster. "This little thing is precious to me, but I am not too afraid to not give it away. If this test is to give it away, then I will. Like I said this isn't my finale, I have a life for me. One that won't stop until I decide so. I will live. Even if I...sacrifice my name."
 
The wisp stood in absolute silence as the beast stared, speaking its writhing words to the base of the wisp's non-existent skull, the wretched scent of blood heavy on the air. The beast spoke about how the wisp had its wits, though the wisp hardly felt like it. It lived yes, in this strange half-form, but it didn't think much. It's answer had been simple, from a deep, primal place. In the view of the wisp, its answer had been clear. It would survive.

The Wisp tilted its head slightly as the creature continued to speak. Choices and thinking, broken and whole, the creature spoke an awful lot, of which little seemed to make much sense. The wisp eyed the long, knarled root of a hand that approached it, remaining unmoving. The hollowed spirit did not trust the creature, regardless of whether or not it had passed whatever "test" had been laid out for it.

The creature notably seemed to differ in its hands, one it used for slaughter hanging low by its side, knuckles almost touching the floor, while the other hand was the one reaching out to the wisp now. Perhaps that meant this would not be the fate of thwe wisp, though it couldn't be certain. Such a large creature would be dangerous even without its preferred "attack" hand.

There had been no right answer, save no answer. Interesting. It had seemed that quiet resilience would be a good way to deal with problems after all, if they presented themselves as such. Sins... the creature spoke of sins, courage, and sacrifice, though the Wisp had issues putting meanings to the words. However, the explanation given by the creature seemed to be enough for the wisp to gain at least a basic understanding. It pondered for a few moments, what could it have to sacrifice? Would it want to, to appease this creature?

That answer too, came soon after. Memory, sweet, cold memory graced the mind of the wisp. It wasn't much, but the singular word implanted in the mind of the wisp was tantalizing. The wisp would have to decipher the word's meaning, but it felt... deeply familiar to the wisp somehow. It took only a few more moments of thought, for the wisp to realize the truth of the matter; the word was its own name. The Wisp had once been alive, and this had been its name. Surely, there had to have been more than that, more than just a name, but try as the spirit may, it was unable to find more, which left it irritated. It felt like it was being mocked, or toyed with, just fed something so key but so little.

"Is this little thing precious to you? You may keep it, if it means so much. But know this; these old memories are heavy, cumbersome. I know, I know this..."

This memory, so little, was precious to the Wisp, without a doubt. Its name, it needed more, it needed to feel whole again. Although once it had been empty and without form or identity, the Wisp hungered for what it could be, or more precisely, what it once was. Monster and darkness be damned, the Wisp would survive, and it would be more than a husk. However, the Wisp wouldn't seek combat, only fighting if it had to. That seemed like a good way to be, fighting only when needed, to keep itself save, to get more memories. Besides, it was always better to fight those who wanted to fight you, and talk to those who wanted to talk, though the Wisp didn't feel it had never talked much. Perhaps it never had the chance.

"My name is mine, and my memories too," the Wisp said flatly, crossing its arms, a cold iron in its gaze. "If the punishment for that would be death, then that is unfortunate." the Wisp continued, changing its stance, one foot in front of the other, fists raised. Instinct, perhaps ingrained training, something to accompany the name, but that would be a little too hopeful. The Wisp hoped it remembered how to fight, might just need it.
 
“You seem to speak and know an awful lot about the traits of being a hero, Beast. Perhaps this is because you we’re once held in the same regard by that wench that dragged us lost souls down this pitiful hellscape. A supposed hero that was once destined to be the savior of this world and free it from whatever evil still plagues it to this day. Then your destiny was torn to shreds, and left to scatter in the wind as but another lost soul left to be tortured in this place. How this came to be I’m not certainn. Maybe the Goddess was to leave you forsaken only for you to grow twisted and demented in your agony, or perhaps you rebelled against her and were consumed by the darkness of this place and turned into the monster you are now. Ironic that you speak of myself as nothing, when all I see before me is a dog being yanked by a chain unable to act on it’s own accord. With your freedom seemingly nonexistent I dare say you are the one who is truly nothing.”

Fierce words for a wisp that hasn’t existed for more than a mere fifteen minutes. Then again one would tend to build up a Fire in their soul if they were put in an egregious life or death situation such as this. A sharp tongue was the only weapon a wisp could carry with them at this time, and so I decided it best to use it as opposed to cower in fear and be devoured like the others. Though his attitude and behavior may be the downfall of my short new life, I didn’t care.

Suddenly, amidst the strong thoughts of courage and determination came something.... sad. Something that brought nothing but a cold and faint feeling of sorrow in my heart. A memory that seemed to make connections in this cloud of a brain I harbor that made sense. It took a moment but this familiar memory was discovered to only be but one word long, yet filled a void so great in my lack of a life. A name, something to be addressed by and identify with. Finally a piece of whatever past existence I had that I might be able to hold onto. There was a myriad of ways this name could’ve been used before my rebirth. But.... for some reason I refused to think on it. My wispy mouth creased into a frown as I stared into the sharp mouth and voided eyes of the beast. Something didn’t feel right about it.

“If this is perhaps the one thing I can hold from my past life.... then I reject it. I despise it above all other things. It is nothing more than another tool to torture me, and bring about sheer suffering for holding onto something so pitiful. I recognize it not as some kind of an old friend, but instead a new antagonist for which I shall forsake it as well as any other aspect of my past humanity if it means I may continue to prosper in this land. I don’t care if my mind and body are consumed by the darkness as you are, as I feel I am destined to become a monster regardless of what my pitiful name is. Take it, destroy it, and do not ever let it grace my mind again. I’ll not be burdened by such trivial information.”
 
Upon hearing It's response the creature snickered once more and withdrew a short distance. It wasn't much, but it was enough to draw the line between impending doom and the threat of it. The creature called the wisp a fool and spoke of choice and consequence, then thrust a spindly claw towards the wisp's chest.

It thought it would be impaled, but instead the beast stopped its claw a few inches from its heart, if the wisp even had one to begin with. A hero? It blinked and looked downward, wondering if it was worthy of such a title. Then another word rose up, sacrifice. It rattled around the wisp's mind like an echo. Such a sad yet strikingly beautiful word, to pay for the happiness of one thing with the sadness of another. While there was no recollection of memories or experience relating to the word, in concept it carried a dim resonance.

It thought back to the conversation with the goddess Nera. If sacrifice was needed to save this dying world, then no suffering would be too great. But what was there to give?

Soon the answer became clear as a strange sensation grew in the back of its mind. The emptiness receded ever so slightly, filled now with a shimmery fragment of familiarity. How seamlessly the void twisted around it, like it had been there all along. Had it? The towering monster informed it that this was a name, It's name.

My name.

This is my name...?

I remember now... it belongs to me alone.

How strange was it that something so small could carry so much power, so much significance without meaning. It was almost intimidating when compared to the previous silence. For a moment the wisp simply let the strange feeling wash over it, but something in the comfort of wholeness did not sit well with it. The joy felt wrong... somewhat hollow. Once more It became aware of the pungent stench of blood that clung so tightly to the bestial judge before it, and recalled where it came from. How can one be truly content with the knowledge that others were not?

Deep down its choice had already been made, long before the beast asked for an answer. This emptiness of its mind, while frightful and lonely, was something it had faced without a name. It could surely do it again, even if there was something to lose this time.

"By any other name I... am still me." It said, slowly at first before gaining a solidity. The name was heavy, and undeniably precious, but somehow giving it up felt right. "You are right, it is a precious thing, but that just makes it all the greater gift. I will give this up, if not for those who no longer have the power of choice. Please, take it, I no longer have need of it."
 
The unnatural cackle grated against the consciousness of the wisp like broken nails on rusted metal. It was the loudest sound amidst the acrimonious hissing of disembodied voices that so cluttered its thoughts that it seemed permeate the blighted expanse that the wisp had found itself in. The bitter taste of sanguineous humors clung to its senses like clammy mist, and though it quickly receded, it left behind a lingering aftertaste that was no less galling than before. It all felt so wrong, as if the mere presence of the twisted abomination warped the atmosphere around it. Or perhaps conversely, it was the product of a corrupted natural order.

But through the chaos of disquietude, the wisp found itself innately drawn towards the creature before it. Marveling at the twisted movements of its flayed skull, a macabre motion that seemed to push against the limitations of what a normal skeletal structure would permit. To stare at the incessant shifting of its shadowy soma. Like paynes grey smoke undulating in transparent fluid. Formless. It spoke of rebellion. Of perhaps a past defiance against the true essence of its being. A defiance of purpose so sacrilegious and defiling that the very fabric that once held the entity together shredded into wispy sinew. Cursed to be a horror no longer whole.

The wisp remained unmoving, as though it basked in the presence of the obscenity whose corrupted nature was wicking off it in waves, like the sweltering heat off a flame. Only, it was a flame that did not burn, but instead wilted all that was around it. It spoke now of worth, of the virtues of heroic entities, of courage. It spoke of someone or something, a being that was so entirely separate from what the wisp, as a nothing, ever thought it was at this very moment. But yet... yet, the void orbs of the fel creature bore down on it as if it were the very thing it spoke of. Something within the wispy luminescent existence sparked, and the pellucid light of its form wavered for a moment with the realization. It felt... hunger. A craving. An offering was being made. An offering to be something for a sacrifice. But what could it sacrifice? It had nothing.

But a sudden influx of coruscating flashes and nebulous clouds of teasing wordless thoughts assailed its mind, threatening to overwhelm. And through the cacophony of obscurity, the answer came. Settling on its foremost vision as if it'd been there all along, taking its place once more. A word. A name. Was it its own? It hung before its every thought, ever present, like a taunting treat. Hanging just out of reach. It knew to reclaim it meant it'll be promised much. And yet....

"Is this little thing precious to you? You may keep it, if it means so much. But know this; these old memories are heavy, cumbersome. I know, I know this..." Spiny protrusions of its gaping maw loomed closer, and yet there was a certain melancholic tinge to its grating tone. An undercurrent of poignant memories that briefly and abruptly rose to the surface. Like a flash of colour underneath the pallid squalor of the monstrosity's visage.

Iridescent hands rose up once again, closing over the extended claw. Not quite touching, for it was yet of a form truly manifested. But it held the claw delicately, as it seemed to pierce through the wisp's core. Like the tip of a finger on a switch. To light, or extinguish. Forever.

"It is heavy yes..." Its whispered voice lilted in soft strokes. Unsounded but heard. "But it is what keeps you here. Shackles you to your eternity. Your one purpose.... I wonder how many have passed before your soulless eyes, how many more will yet come." Spoken in wonder, as one might marvel at astounding pulchritude. "What will these shoulders bear, if not the burden of that which gives it form?" There was a minute silence, before it was broken by its whispered intent.

"I will keep it."
 
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The vile creature pounded words into the mind, clouding the wisp's train of thought as their sense of smell continued to be abused by an unholy stench at the same time. They felt like they were being invaded both mentally and physically by a supernatural force, with no sense of possible retaliation. They attempted to stand strong to face the beast, after all, courage towards something so destructive and terrible must be a priority. Vulnerability was something one must never show. Though, this creature had an impossible aura. There was nothing to compare it to, no experience that would prepare an individual for what the wisp was face to face with. The apparent amusement it seemed to find in the situation was peculiar. It spoke of itself, seeming to reflect for a moment. The possibility that they were once in a place similar to themselves crossed his mind. To turn into this unsightly creature, what would one have to go through? Cursed to this form by a being above itself, for sins it had indulged in. The beast seemed to reflect, the wisp taking a moment before speaking. Their voice was confident and filled with an apparent energy. "Perhaps thou would see me as a fool, but we will all be judged, creature, it cannot be helped. Though, to be judged by thee would be disgraceful, would it not?" The wisp's eyes attempted to stare back at the beasts, but all the wisp saw -no, fact was a void. The creeping of darkness encumbered their soul, breaking down the mind of the wisp - they could not bear to stare any longer, as their breath grew more and more unsteady. The presence lingered, even after they drew their gaze elsewhere.

With the claw of the beast extended towards their chest, they almost though it would be the end, but the hope they hung onto by a mere string was proven to be true. They were not attacking the wisp, simply pointing towards their current inscrutable form - where their heart would be if they had a proper form. Though the claw did not make contact with their chest, they could still feel it, absolutely overwhelming. The wisp began to listen closely to what the being began to speak, though they didn't have much choice, as the beast continued to invade their mind.

A memory lingered, creeping out from the cloud that the beast had formed while speaking in it's tongues. This memory was small, but was burning with an incredible flame that resonated within. They focused on it - it was a word, a name. The wisp could tell, even without a proper explanation, what it was. As they focued focused, they felt the beast's ever looming presence begin to overwhelm once more. The beast's terrible voice rumbled and invaded their mind, encouraging them to make a decision - they could feel it. They had already made up their mind, speaking with certainty towards the beast. "Ah, yes.. Oh so important, it is. So precious to I, something I dearly hold on to. Thus, it makes it worthy of sacrifice, does it not? An important virtue, a part of life, sacrifice is. I will let go of this memory, it will be used as a sacrifice. To allow something so vital to myself to be offered for a greater purpose is required to prosper and grow."

They believed this to truly be the right decision to make. Those who are yet to sacrifice are yet to be apart of something greater. A sacrifice can benefit both themselves and others, after all. This greater cause, they believed, was always worth the trouble in the end.
 
It stared back at the beast blankly, not that it was uninterested, more that it didn't feel the need to put the effort into making facial motions. So, it just laid there staring up at the creature that loomed above, following it's movements with it's eyes, or whatever it had. It listened with whatever hearing organs that it possessed, taking in the words that it spoke and thinking about each carefully.

It was to offer it some form of sacrifice, or well it was said to be the next part of whatever they were doing. But what could it offer if it even wanted to? It was nothing at the moment. No identity, no nothing. So what could it possibly want? Even if it could give the beast something, what use was it going to be by it? This sort pondering was interrupted by it's thoughts become clouded and something appearing in it's head.

It couldn't make out what the fuzz of words said, but it could tell what the mysterious words were. It was it's old name. This cause it to tense up where it laid. Was this thing asking it to give up it's past to it? It's questions were answered by the beast's next words however. It contemplated how to answer this question seriously as it stared back at the beast. The way that it answered this question was going to decide how it would identify for the rest of the time it walked this world, or at least if the deal the beast made had no complications or hidden meanings.

Did it really deserve to choose whether the old it was left behind and replaced by the new it? Did it have any right to do that? This was another chance for the old it, not for the new it. It couldn't take that away from it. It deserved to be it and not be forgotten because of a selfish act. This wasn't it's life, so it couldn't give away the old name, it would have to take it so that the old it can have it's second chance.

It let out a large amount of breath before opening it's mouth and answering the beast's question, "This life is for who I used to be. I'll keep who I was-or should I say am...?"
 
You make your response, and the beast listens with the ever-present smile.

“Is that how you feel? So be it. Do not regret it later on…”

You feel a pull now. The memory gracing your mind begins to slip away, like cold water drained through crevices in your mind. The voice suddenly swells in delight. The snickering is made booming in your head, the creature now staring at you, the countless teeth practically snapping at your flesh.

“I envy you! I do! Did you feel it? That horrid thing slipping away into the nether? Yes, of course, you did. I felt it too. I was in your mind, part of you...

The head lowers ominously, “Remember this liberation. Sacrifice that unnecessary burden and give yourself to this new destiny... Make yourself empty, and be free… hehe…! Oh, how I envy you, little ‘hero’. Oh how wondrous it felt! Almost like I was alive again… ”

The monstrous being suddenly stops laughing. It stares for a long moment at you, before leaning back up and towering over you and the rest again.

“But I cannot be empty, like you… Never.”
Saying this, it points to one of the plinths at the end of the room.

“This emptiness, it will be your greatest strength… Go there and wait. Then you all shall empty your vessel together, spill your essence and you will learn the next virtue. Humility. Remember this next pain well.”

And just like that, before you can even get a response back, the creature has already skulked over to the next wisp.

You make your way across the long distance, watching or not, as others are given instruction like you have or swallowed whole by this unruly beast of a judge. Though it snickered often, this being did not seem to enjoy its work. There was a hint of disgust even, as it coughed and sputtered, gagging pale blood after a few of these kills. But they pushed on. And you too, pushed on in this grim circumstance. There were not many who survived this selection, but soon enough, a handful join you in waiting by the remaining plinths. There, you see strange etched carvings and designs, none of which you can properly understand or decipher. What seemed most strange was the shape. The way it was rooted and overgrown, covered by these pale, glistening flowers, not to mention these strange grooves and melded protrusions suggested it was something that had been placed and sprouted from. It seemed almost fetal, still grooming, the covered in infantile buds.

But that is about the only speculation to be made. All you can do, is to wait.
And upon the last to make it to their stone, the snickering beast motions with a hand and nods its head.

You begin to wonder how to ‘spill your essence’, but you notice a jagged point on top of these stones. Not the most graceful way, but you’ve not other choice.

Pale blood spills from your palm, soaking into the narrows slits of the carvings. Soon, the stone itself glows and hums. You hear a faint voice just as it crumbles into brilliant pieces, unraveling, blooming, and uncurling, and all at once recollecting into a large silvered shard. It looked beautiful, glowing innocently in this desolate chamber.

It turns slowly, and points at you. Then it pierces you.
However, there is no pain, as you might expect. But a pull. And shine.

In the dying light, fading behind, you turn and witness that the shard had changed form. One that appeared, judging by those around you, unique in shape to you. Though the size and size differed between you all, a weapon lay embedded in the stone behind you. This weapon was a large slab of silver still, much like an unrefined blade. A beautiful work of art, though flawed in shape. Almost like the Goddess you saw at the beginning of all this. Compelled by it’s soothing nature, you reach out and grab the handle.

You are numb for a split second, but the pain soon comes. You feel something strange, a burning sensation that resonates deep within you, but concentrated in one area. You’ve never felt this much pain ever before. Not that you had much comparison anyway. Looking for it, you see there is a black scar in the place of where it entered and exited. Something of a tattoo or brand, forming still as you stare. It soon became an intricate marking that seems to almost swirl as you gaze upon it.

You feel a voice humming beyond it somehow. And as you listen closely, you hear a word within this whispering voice, a soft and gentle thing. Similar to before, a name. Though not that old one. A new one entirely, unfamiliar and strange to your ears. But you are given with a feeling that this one belongs to you all the same.

-- Gain a Name. This one cannot exceed 7 letters, nor be any less.

As you are able to get used to this feeling, you realize the strange faces around you. And though never spoken to once, you already know their name. Just before you can question this, something draws your attention back to the center of the chamber.

-- Gain a ‘Stigma’ and ‘Silvered Weapon’.
-- Choose a Name.

The eyes of the snickering beast glow soft at this answer.

“Ah… then you are like me… unwilling to let go… unwilling to have it all be gone… Oh how I could’ve been...”

But this compassionate response is swept away by the snickering once more, as the beast points to one of the distant plinths. The hollow eyes now squint.

“Go to the sacrificial stone. Wait for the last one I judge to join you, then lay your hand upon the stone and utter to it the brand of your burden. That 'name' of yours. It will teach you. Learn Humility, the next virtue. Speak those forbidden words and you will learn what it means to carry such a thing. Such a heavy thing...”

As you make your way to one of the plinths at the end of the large circular chamber, the power of the memory begins to take shape already. This single word in your mind, as it echoed and etched itself into your thoughts began to illuminate dark places. Images flashed and glimpsed in this dim light. Once blurry and hidden things now clearer. It was almost overwhelming, but you knew you could not stop to catch yourself.

"Will you be able to control these things buried deep inside, I wonder...? Or will they consume you too? Haha..."

Over the sounds of wicked coughs and gagging, your mind is swirling with this new thing. These 'memories'.

One particular memory stood out as the clearest, out of them all. A person. You realize this was actually you. Who you were. But still, it just a glimpse. A shard of what once was. Regardless of how vague and minuscule, your body changes upon discovering this simple knowledge -- this insightful truth. But different from the ‘burden’ you were expecting, your steps begin to feel lighter than ever before. This name, as it echoes in your mind seems to push your forward, giving you renewed purpose. Though you don't know exactly the reason, you know you cannot stop no matter what. You must know the truth. With each step forward, your wispy flesh hardens and you are given something of a skin. As you become more solid, your wispy essence being contained, you begin to recognize yourself again on this new body.

By the time you reach the plinth, a tall, overgrown stone covered in carvings you do not understand, you are not the same as before. More solid than before, but not quite, as well. The plinth seemed to act strange before you, the sprouting vines, tipped by pale buds and flowers fading somewhere in your presence. You feel a strange gaze, or presence, coming from deep inside the spiraling shape pushing out from the ground. Or perhaps it had been pushed, planted down?

And upon the last to make it to their stone, the snickering beast motions with a hand and nods its head.
With only one option there, you place your hand upon the smooth surface and utter the words — your name to the stone.

Suddenly, the object twists to one side and opens like a puzzle box.

A silvered form rests within, a small curled thing, and you hear a faint voice just as the rest of the stone around it crumbles away into fine dust powder. It looked beautiful, glowing innocently in this desolate chamber. Suddenly, as you reach out for it, you are met with a flash. Another memory. One pulled from the deep recesses of your mind and brought to light before you. This one, painful, tragic, and depressing.

As you are consumed by this memory, the shard turns slowly, and points at you. Then it pierces you. However, there is no pain, as you might expect. But a pull. And shine.

In the dying light, fading behind, you turn and witness that the shard had changed form. One that appeared, judging by those around you, unique in shape to you. And this one, only to you.

You are shocked by what you see. The shard lies in the ground, twisted and turned revolting and disgusting blob. It dripped and bubbled with an eerie darkness. The beautiful shard of silver now resembled a quaking poison. Before you can even have the chance to question your decision, a black liquid stream abruptly latches out and wraps onto your wrist. You realize there are teeth now digging into your skin. You may scream and yank all you want, but you cannot escape its sharp grasp. It begins to bite down, crunching your flesh between jagged teeth, wretching apart your flesh and bathing in your pale blood.

You can almost hear it moaning in pleasure.

As you feel the blood draining from your body, you see the black ooze slowly take shape and grow into a grotesque size. Just on the brink of death, you are given mercy. Once it had enough, the darkness, blobbing and engorged, began to writhe. Soon the black link connecting the two of you, appear like a looped mass, now recognizable as a chain and shackle. This oozing and dripping form shivered in what appeared to be some twisted ecstasy, warping grotesquely until they settled somewhere in between a weapon and a beast. Bulging eyes line the monstrous shape, which stare at you, never breaking line of sight.

The pain in your wrist would eventually quells as the beastly thing finished its unholy feast and transformation, through the pain truly never ceases. And when you try to lift this black weapon to move, it is heavy and unruly. Heavy enough to make you struggle, like a constant weight, but not enough to make you immobile. Quite a burden, indeed.

-- Gain a ‘Black Vessel’

Before you have any time to question or regret, the ghastly weapon shackled to you begins to whisper something to your ears and you feel a nagging compulsion in your mind. Like a nudging. And as you look toward this nudging feeling, you realize that what is being spoken are the names of those you looked at. Though there is no solid evidence, you know somewhere deep inside that this is fact.

But your moment of clarity ends and something draws your attention back to the center of the chamber.
There, upon the stone-carved circle it called for you again.

"Come, come now... Please, do not tarry. There is much to teach, still. But time grows slim and faint, for you. For us all... Yes, not enough time at all..." spoke the beast, snickering on, but with a cough laced between its sentences. Pale blood dripped more and more now, from its clenched jaws.

The black beast now stood at the center of the rounded platform, beckoning for all the instructed to come and return. It stood tall again, straight with shoulders pulled back, almost in a dignified fashion. The shadowy fur seemed to drape down in something of a curled gown around the deteriorated form of bone and white-bleached sinew and flesh. One claw was held behind its back as it stared down at each of you, waiting for all of you to finally gather. You notice that it was gesturing with its hooked hand. But this refined and courtly stature seemed in contrast to its actual physical state of condition. For each breath was a haggard wheeze and cough, the snicker ever-present but weakening.

Still, despite the apparent pain, the ailing shadowed beast waited patiently for all of you to gather and return.
 
To act regardless of the consequences. To act against fear, uncertainty, and doubt. This is the first virtue of a 'Hero' -- Courage. This aspect, you possess. But resolution of mind and Will is not enough. Not at all. The next virtue is Sacrifice... What are you willing to sacrifice for this new life, for strength to act upon your Courage? What can you, a nobody -- a nothing, possibly sacrifice, you must wonder? Haha... You will see."

A Hero? That doesn't sound like me for some reason. Then an image appears in my mind. An image of a fluttering black cape, tattered and dark. Is that...snow? Then the image is gone just as soon as it came. As desperately as I try to recall it, it is gone. Though I still remember that cape, that flowing black cape. I feel a sense of dread at that cape. Something... I don't know what, tells me to stop delving into this memory.

Do you choose to keep this past memory or give it up?

I stare into the eyes of this creature. The one who had just offered me the chance to either keep my memory or discard it. It appeared as if it was more amused than intimidated. I could understand its perception of me. Me, a nameless spirit had just threatened it with nothing but words and wishes. Did I honestly care about who or what I used to be? Obviously whoever I was prior to my arrival here was weak and pitiful. If I was someone of worth or power, then I wouldn't have let myself be captured by a Goddess. Hell even my fashion taste must have been terrible if I wore a cape.

"I will discard my memory... from now on my name is Drakkon"

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Kietlav. That was the Wisp's... no, Kietlav's name. The Wisp was a Wisp no longer, it had identity, a name. The Wisp rolled its shoulders, thinking on this for a few moments. Kietlav... the name gave a feeling, though he didn't know any context behind it. Sadly, the Wisp knew little else of itself. Gender, race, identity, occupation, none of it. The name was progress though, and Kietlav knew that progress, any at all, could mean all the difference.

Kietlav looked up to the beast, crossing its pale, ghostly arms. "Like you or not, I'll survive," the Wisp named Kietlav said flatly.

Sacrificial stones and plinths, none of it made a lick of sense to Kietlav, but the wisp figured it may as well obey. Speak its name aloud to the stone... seemed like a bunch of nonsense, but who was Kietlav to make any sense of this nonsense? Halfway to the plinth, the Wisp paused, feeling something... off.

Suddenly, Kietlav found itself assailed by flashes of memory, an unstoppable barrage that forced it to stop in its tracks. The wisp pressed a palm to its temple, squeezing its eyes shut as a white-hot pain seared through its mind. Blood and iron, fire and smoke, wood and stone. Brilliant white snow stained red, bloody faces and gasping breaths, muddy hands clawing from piles of bodies, seeking the light's embrace, crows already gathering. Battlefields and burning cities, over and over, and over again. Kietlav stumbled forward, wincing as these images assailed it; a never-ending cacophony of violence and misery that shook the Wisp to its core. Instinctively, Kietlav lashed out, swinging a fist around before it, only to strike air, letting out a cry of pain as it attempted to ward off it's assailant, yet unable to find one at all.

After a few moments, Kietlav could calm down. These... they were memories, weren't they? Kietlav hadn't lived a good life, and the WIsp almost felt regret in its choice.

Hearing the Beast speak, the Wi-Kietlav stood, straightening its back, standing tall. "I'll survive," the Wisp remarked flatly. This would... all take some getting used to, but Kietlav would survive. After a few moments, one memory stuck with Kietlav. A person, seemingly. Human male, pale, tall and stocky. It was all... too blurry, far too blurry, but Kietlav recognized it... no himself. A step towards identity is a step worth taking. Kietlav glanced down to his body, seeing skin form, containing his essence. Purpose and form, Kietlav felt good, alive, guided.

Warily, it approached the stone structure, instinctively narrowing its eyes as it set a hand on the stone, running the tips of its fingers along the cold surface. Forms and shapes, bunch of nonsense. Kietlav pressed his hand to the stone, firmly now, and spoke aloud his name. "Kietlav."

The stone opened, revealing an object of silver inside. Kietlav didn't recognize it, but had to admit it possessed a strange, almost ethereal beauty. He reached out to it, presuming this was what he was supposed to do, before memory gripped his mind once more, a flood that refused to release him. This time, instead of a myriad of simple images, it was a full memory, and horribly vivid.

The wind howled, as if pushed from the lungs of a mighty and ferocious beast. It's force lashed against Kietlav's body, its cold bite seizing upon his open wounds. The man dragged himself along the mountain road, averting his eyes from the cliffs to his left, for fear that in this state, he'd tumble off. Kietlav wore armor, of the likes he didn't recognize. Brown, and made of overlapping rectangles it'd seem, an oaken shield strapped to his arm and an axe in hand, though the axe hung weakly in his grasp, his other arm too weak to raise the shield properly as the wounded man continued along. He'd... it'd been hours, hadn't it? He'd started to climb hours ago, and had limped his way along, driven only by his will, and growing ever slower. The battle, that horrible, horrible battle, it had all been for naught. They had fought well and bravely, but they barely even slowed the Foe. His Lord was dead, his Hostsmen were dead, and what remained of the Grand Army of The Kingdom of Roskarov had been routed, fleeing headlong into the blizzard, disappearing into the vast white expanse they had called home.

He was slow, but surely, he could make it home, to warn them, to herald their doom, so they'd at least have time to come to terms with death. As Kietlav rounded a bend in that twisting mountain road of weathered stone, he knew his hopes to be false. Smoke and ash burned his nostrils, as he beheld the billowing fires. The flames had consumed Svargonir like a ravenous beast, leaping from roof to roof, and devouring buildings whole. Tendrils of smoke lashed the sky to blood, and made the very air shake before the heat of the fires. Worse than any wound, a pain in his heart burned. Kietlav... couldn't comprehend what his eyes told him. Beloved Svargonir, the WindPeak, the City of Silver, was burning before his very eyes, burning to cinder.

Desperation, and whatever will remained drove Kietlav onward. Through the city's grand gates, smashed asunder, and over the mounds of rubble that had been its breathtaking white towers. The smoke choked his lungs, but he couldn't stop, wouldn't stop. He had to know, he had to save them if he could. Onward he trudged, through rivers of blood in the streets, unable to muster the energy to even avoid the corpses underfoot. The most he could do was simply to avoid eye contact, in hopes he wouldn't recognize the corpses of his neighbors, friends, and family. As usual, there had been little mercy, that much he could tell from the little he saw. He pleaded with the dead Gods, that maybe, maybe, his family would be safe, and he could bring them away from this hellish place.

Worthless hope brought the dead man back home, to his once-respected home, licked by flame. Into the yard he walked, an open space before the home, gaze bent upwards to the flame. Words and thoughts both failed him then, as he stood in silence, strength waning from his body, until it could take no more. His legs buckled, and Kietlav fell to his knees, pressing his shield and axe to the ground with a grunt to keep himself from falling face-first to the ashy snow. The warrior looked back up to his burning home, his jaw hung open, eyes searching the fires for answers.

He didn't need to search the house to know his family was dead. Their corpses would never be found, burning to ash like everything else in the city. He reared back, crying his fury and sorrow to the skies, cursing the dead Gods for bringing this upon him, though no one was listening.

It took the dead man a few moments to hear the sound of boots crunching in snow behind him, and to hear the sound of a blade being dragged from its sheathe. Kietlav didn't even spare the foe a glance, his eyes unable to leave the sight of his burning home, his mind unable to cleanse itself of that pain, of that memory. The Foe spoke, but Kietlav no longer had ears for the mortal world. Kietlav made no resistance then, his will finally broken, as the Foe brought down its blade upon his neck.

Blackness. The silver shard had become oily and black, and was changing form. Kietlav had only been brought back to this reality by the horrible pain this brought him, as the strange magic burried itself into his skin like a parasite. He clamped his hands down against it, trying to pull himself free, to no avail. Kietlav prepared himself for death a second time, his strange wisp's bloody pouring from his arm like a tide. Dreadful red eyes took form and gazed upon him, an axe and shield made of that wretched black substance, lined with monstrous eyes. It was a twisted mockery of what he had once wielded, but Kietlav could think little of it, his mind still burried in the pain of his newly emerging past. The weapons were chained to him, the beast clawing into his skin with every moment, an ever-present pain.

The malformed weapons were heavy too, and hard to move, as the thing began to speak into his head, causing a scowl to emerge on his face. "Quiet damn you, dark spirits," he snarled, teeth grit together, wishing he could strike at the weapons, and slay the demons doubtlessly within them.

The Beast now, it called for them all again, and Kietlav, drained of his will from what he had seen, followed. It stood dignified, dripping in blood, reeking of death still, a none-too-clever deception. Kietlav didn't trust it, he trusted it as little as he now trusted himself.
 
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The name, simply dissappeared from my mind. Not a trace of it was left to be found save for the empty feeling, as once again I found myself to be nothing more than a nameless creature. Hell the beast before me at least had a name of some kind, whereas I was just a wretch with nothing to my soul. Truly in these last few moments I have become nothing, though I didn’t blame myself for this. My new heart burned with rage as my thoughts trailed back to the goddess who had dragged me here, ripping me from whatever final judgement had previously awaited me. I had died sure, but death can not be any worse than this fate. Instead I’m stuck amongst other wisps to suffer and eventually die. This was a purer hell than any tormentor could construct. But I’ll be damned if I fall like the others, no instead I fill continue to fight and cut down whatever form of vile creature stands in my way of finally being able to rest.

Amidst the thoughts of agony, anger, and determination something was implanted into my mind. It happened so suddenly that I have no idea where it was to come from. After taking a brief moment to think over the idea, it turned into a name. Something entirely new that I might call myself. Irosane. So, this is what I am to be called instead of whoever I was before coming to this dark place. The name felt cold, empty, and it almost seemed to reject me. I resented it as well, and felt no identity in it, as to be it will be nothing more than something to be addressed by. It is not who I am, but it’s may very well be I will become. Despite all the tension between myself and the name, it was vaguely familiar. There was a subtle sense of Deja Vu about the way it resonated in my head, and I oddly could almost hear voices addressing me by it. However, I knew it wasn’t real.

I.... or rather Irosane, stepped forward after the Beast had advanced onward and began to torture the next wisp with its foul breath, sharp fangs, and gagging of blood. He turned back to watch it work, and even though the remaining wisps were as faceless as he was he could still recognize their aura of terror. It wasn’t long before the last of them were either crushed and consumed or brought before the plinths just as Irosane was, and their they stood all subtly confused at to what they might do. Once Irosane understood however, he waisted no time in raising his right hand above the spiked plinth. To teach humility... Iro knee deep down in his soul that this would require a great deal of pain and suffering. However he did not hesitate, and struck the palm of his hand downward tearing his wispy flesh and spilling the pale blood from within him. “Pain shall just be a temporary inconvenience. If it offers a lesson then I welcome it with open arms.”

The pain was quick and as expected, temporary. Iro withdrew his hand as the plinth fell apart, looking at it and seeing the deep dash now scathed across his form. It was minimal pain at best, which meant there was more to come. Irosane expected it to occur when the silver shard rose from the plinth before striking through the right side of his chest, but nothing happened. No pain, not even any shock. It was only when he turned around did he recognize what had happened. The silver shard had embedded itself in a stone behind him, and it was taking shape into something. A weapon, finely forged from the vessel of Iro’s soul and the very blood he spilt from his veins. Iro approached it and took ahold of the handle with both hands, and attempted to retrieve it from the stone. There was adversity to greet him however, and upon initiating the pull a great pain swarmed inside of him. A burning sensation that only increased the more he held on to the weapon. Grunted with pain, Iro was all too tempted to give up and let go but he refused. Using ever ounce of muscle in his newly developed body he pulled until finally the blade withdrew from the stone. The pain subsided, and Irosane was left to stare at a finally crafted sword. Then, it fell apart. Granted it didn’t shatter or anything like that, but the single blade fell into two and several shards emerged and began coiling and wrapping around one another forming a decently long and lightweight chain that then connected to the two blades. Irosane now held the two swords in his own hands, and surveyed the chain connecting them together. It was an odd design for a weapon, but Irosane could tell there would be advantages to its strange design later on. Gripping them tight in his hands, Irosane stood and turned to join the other wisps with the Twisted Beast.
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Just as quickly as the name surfaced in the wisp’s mind it faded away, leaving a sense of indescribable loss. It almost itched, like a word on the tip of a tongue. Perhaps having nothing and losing everything were not the same thing? Still, knowing that this sacrifice would serve to help others made the fresh void feel a little less lonely.

It took a halfstep backwards when the snickering creature drew closer, taken aback by the sheer earnesty within the ragged voice. It envied the sacrifice? The creature even sounded... happy? No, it wasn't quite that. Shadows clung to the laughter. Until it stopped, and all went quiet.

In that moment the wisp didn't see a towering monster. Past the gnashing teeth, coagulated blood, and stench of death there was something else, something that wasn't any different from itself or the other wisps. All at once the unease left It's soul. No longer did it feel fear, or the sticky cloud of loss. All it felt was sadness for the creature. For the person. Then the moment ended and before long the judge moved on to the next wisp, leaving It alone, save for its thoughts.

With nothing else to do, the wisp followed The Judge's instructions and left behind the patch of flowers and headed towards the plinths. There were few distinguishing traits between them, but the wisp was drawn to one in particular. There it waited until the others had taken their spots and The Judge motioned for them to begin. Honestly, the wisp didn't really know what to do and ended up simply mimicking the actions of the wisp beside it.

What came after was breathtaking. At the touch of blood the plinth fractured into floating shards, like shafts of pure moonlight. So entrancing were they that the wisp didn't even see the prismatic blade aim for its heart until it had struck through its mark. With a soft gasp the wisp turned around to find the shard stuck into the ground. Without giving it a second thought the wisp wrapped its translucent fingers around the hilt. It was pleasantly cool to the touch, but as soon as the wisp began to pull it suddenly changed. A chill gripped It's arm, growing sharply in intensity until its entire body was consumed in white hot pain.

Just when the world began to blur into nothingness the shard gave way, sending both the wisp and it tumbling backwards. It clattered on the stones behind the wisp, ringing with a resounding twang before growing still and quiet. The wisp slowly propped itself up into a sitting position, and after taking a moment to recover, reached out to pick up the shard. While it hadn't seemed to change much in size, its form had changed. It looked more like a dagger now, small and as light as air. Yet as fragile as it seemed, the wisp felt a flowing strength just by holding it.

In admiring it the wisp caught an image in the blade's face, which it realized was a reflection. It's reflection. There still wasn't much to it, but upon closer inspection it noticed a twisting black design in the reflection. Putting the blade aside for now, the wisp looked down at itself and found the symbol branded upon its heart. The mark was strange, being made of up of smaller jagged strokes without a clear form. Almost abstract, in a way. It looked like a flower, or fire? Fangs? wings? As the wisp pondered on this it heard something, soft like distant windchimes.

"Niatiel?" the wisp echoed, then gave a happy laugh. This was a name. Her name. It was a pleasant surprise, and yet, it strangely felt like she had heard it before. Like a background sound you never noticed until it was the only noise left. Though the more she thought about this strange coincidence the less familiarity it seemed to hold. She chased it around her head but it soon vanished.

Niatiel shook off the strange feeling and walked over to where the others were gathering. She noticed that the others held weapons, some like her own while others were grotesque. Some of the wisps had even become more physical, complete with interesting faces and forms. Curious, Niatiel approached one and was about to ask them about it but hesitated when she saw the haunted look on their face. Did something happen? She wasn't sure if bringing it up would help...

Leaving them be for the time being, Nia looked over to The Judge. They had changed too, their lumbering form having gained -- or regained -- a sense of dignity. Yet it was coughing much more fiercely now. "Are you okay?" She asked.
 
"Brielle"

Soft as the pale gossamer of forlorn blooms that bestrewed the clearing, the name whispered from the wisp. Audible. Real. Her name. She felt something taking a hold of her from within. As if an ephemeral hand had grasped at her once empty core and brought with it the beating pulse of a heart. A harmonic rhythm that began to resonate throughout her translucent form. But a low snickering tore her away from her transfixion, and she looked to the twisted beast as its wretched cadence filled her mind once again.

“Ah… then you are like me… unwilling to let go… unwilling to have it all be gone… Oh how I could’ve been...” She stared at the beast unflinching. Wondered at the hint of empathy that tinged its words. She thought she could almost see the thing that it once was. As if its grotesque and marred form were but a facade. But no. Just as soon as it's words faded into the lightless abyss, so too did its constant depraved snickering return. The sudden shift in mannerism struck against her thoughts like the toll of a discordant bell. Like a cursed existence of incongruencies, of all things that could go wrong manifested into one single woeful reality. A wonder of unlife.

“Go to the sacrificial stone. Wait for the last one I judge to join you, then lay your hand upon the stone and utter to it the brand of your burden. That 'name' of yours. It will teach you. Learn Humility, the next virtue. Speak those forbidden words and you will learn what it means to carry such a thing. Such a heavy thing...”

Wordlessly, she turned and headed to the plinths as the creature bade. And as her soundless steps fell against the dirt and wilted weeds, something told her that the feeling of creeping dread that welled up within her was not one out of fear, but of a heart so worn that it keened in anticipation for that familiar burden once again. Like that of a shackled beast that knew no other life and would not run even if it was freed. Then like the gradual rise of a tide, the memories began flowing in. Slowly at first, but just like the tide, unstoppable. Lisps of meaningless voices that beat against her conscious like the constant waves on a shore; loud enough to demand her attention. Shouts and cries of despair. Whimpering cries of utter sorrow so sharp they stabbed at her heart, causing her newfound breath to catch in her throat. She was beginning to remember who she was now. A woman. Tall with long flowing locks. She'd known the taste of the arcane. The image was blurry still, and the face before her was shifting between one of two. Almost similar, but quite apparent in their difference. Which was she? And what was this growing sound in her head?

"Will you be able to control these things buried deep inside, I wonder...? Or will they consume you too? Haha..." She heard the beast again, speaking over the cacophony of wailing chaos like some apathetic observer of her life. Ruthless in its abject curiosity. The tall stone monument loomed ever closer, and then she found herself right at the base of the stone that spiraled down into the ground. She didn't know when she'd crossed the remaining distance. It was as if her memory slipped away almost as soon as she made them. Still, the distant hissing of voices in her mind hadn't quietened down. Brows furrowed as she studied the stone before her.

Strange inscriptions marred the stony surface, and her eyes traced the height of the pillar, wondering for the first time if she should do as the beast bade. Noticing her hesitation, the snickering beast nods its head and motions for her to carry on. Just like before, she was compelled for there was no other choice. Reaching forth with a hand more solid than before, she rested her palm on the smooth surface and spoke her name.

"Brielle."

Suddenly, the object twisted in upon itself, revealing a shining silver shard like some peculiar puzzle box. Its glimmering form stood in stark contrast to the gloomy atmosphere that permeated the area. A lone star against an endless dark. Something within it resonated with her, calling out to her presence. Enraptured by its scintillating light, she reached for it. It was then that the voices roared into a maddening crescendo, filling every thought of her stricken mind. It assailed her without relent, causing her to stumble and fall to the hard ground.

It was too much. Pale hands reached up to cover her ears in a futile attempt to shut out the hysteria. She heard the accusations. The damnations. Unbidden, clear droplets of crystalline tears pooled obscuring her sight.

Please...

The air began to stink of choking smoke. A cloying sweet mixture like that of burning flesh filled her nostrils, so rank that her chest began to heave causing her to retch. If only she had remained a formless wisp. She cast her eyes downward, squinting them shut. And when she opened them again, they were filled with the flickering lights of a thousand fires.

No more... stop...

Like an overwhelming tide, the visions assailed her. A profuse irrepressible force that crushed against her fragile frame and held her transfixed as she watched a world burn to cinders. Proud gleaming cities crumbled. Once brilliant green fields lay wasted, hallowed temples desecrated. Stalwart mountains and their ancient cities, so long had they stood the tests of time and countless wars. Sundered in a horrifying flash of black lightning that cracked out of a roiling sky. The very earth moaned in torment as jagged gaps scourged its length, and from their fiery depths, dark twisted creatures poured forth. No quarter was spared, until the riverbanks swelled with sanguine waters. She squirmed and struggled just like the countless insignificant forms that fled through the ruined streets below. Each an attempt of defiance against powers beyond their mere mortal existence. She felt each snuff of life. Each sickening crunch of flesh and bone. She felt it. And to her utter horror, reveled in it. Brielle thirsted for more.

Shining armies of a countless number of nations stubbornly held their ground against the sweeping corruption. Gleaming penants held aloft as a symbol of undying hope. A hope that would no doubt turn to despair as the twisted horrors of their own kin and that from below charged at their battlelines. Light and dark crushed against the other in a brilliant display of sorcery and might. And though the light prevailed, each cry of terror as a soldier was pulled into shreds fed into her insatiable hunger.

Her hunger? It couldn't be... no... no, this was all wrong... She was no being of darkness... she fought for the light! She remembered now... yes, coming up to that twisted shade, a scornful mimicry of the person it once was... a person she had known all her life. Reaching out with bloodied hands that had fought through so much darkness to get to this very spot.

"Brielle..." Streams of dark liquid pouring out from the blackened umbral voids where once had been bright emerald eyes.

"What have I... become?"


"ARHHHHHHH!" There was a brilliant flash, and then she was thrust out of the depths of her memories and back to the cold dusty earth. Her breathing came in short ragged gasps as the flickering shadows of fiery battle faded into the silent oblivion of her mind. A part of her clutched at the fleeting memories, but they slipped from between her grasp like sand, until she was left with nothing but insignificant vestiges of a past. Fragments of thought too broken to be of use. At least, not yet. She looked up as her breathing steadied and found that the once glimmering shard was now a twisted blob of oily obsidian. It lay on the ground, discarded like a contagion. Its inky black surface shifted as if it were alive and before she could react, it shot forth and latched onto her arm.

"Hhnhhh!" Brielle recoiled backwards, a cry of pain hissing from her lips as she felt the black mass bite down on her hand. She felt her short life begin to ebb away, as if the thing were draining her of her precious soul. An ironic existence, to be returned to life with so little, only for it to be taken away. But she did not resist. She could not. The thought of restful oblivion was welcoming to her, especially as her heart still bled from the harrowing visions from before. And despite that fact, she did not regret her choice to remember. It was either the silence of death, or to live with the visions from before. But just when she thought it was all over, she felt the siphon of life halt. The grotesque shape was writhing in ecstasy, like a callow child given an exciting plaything. Then right before her eyes, it warped and twisted, growing and elongating until it stood about as tall as her. Bulging unblinking eyes stared back at the woman from its inky haft. A lesser person would've tossed the repulsive weapon away, if they could. But Brielle held on, her grip knuckle white as the black mass coalesced into its final form. A tall blackened scythe with a sharp tip on its bottom end.

Almost immediately, she began to feel its burdensome weight. Dragging on her arm with a mass that did not seem to be belied by its apparent look. The beast had spoken truthfully, not that it had said anything to provoke otherwise.

Brielle stood to her feet and clutched at the staff, bringing it close to her chest as she shut her eyes for a moment, taking a moment to steady herself. The constant pressure of her memories niggled at the back of her mind, an ever-present reminder that the floodgates of visions could just as easily return once again. She gave herself a moment, but did not tarry too long, coming to her senses once more and finally noticing that there were many others around her. Beings each with their own unique weapon. For an inexplicable reason, she knew their names. Magic of sorts no doubt, one which she did not bother to question.

"Come, come now... Please, do not tarry. There is much to teach, still. But time grows slim and faint, for you. For us all... Yes, not enough time at all..." The beast stood at the center, beckoning for them. Almost dignified in its posture as it looked to each one of them. And not for the first time, Brielle wondered about the soul that lay beneath its twisted breast.
 
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"A necessary sacrifice to make, for one to move onward, beast. I shall feel no regret, you have my word."

To have the memory drained away, a peculiar feeling for one to experience. To be forced to forgot, to have it gradually slip away in seconds as your mind attempts to hang onto it for it last fleeting moments. It left a pit in their stomach, it made them feel rather sickly. They hard a part of themselves taken. The wisp took their own word as their truth, as regret would not be felt. The eruption of the beast's laughter quickly overtook their attention thereafter, attempting not to recoil as the beast's gaping mouth moved closer, as if they'd accidentally clamp down on them and turn them into paste. "Indeed, it is gone.. It has slipped away from my conscious." Indeed, the sacrifice did leave them feeling empty, though this would be their strength, as that emptiness could be filled with something new. To lift that burden, to feel as if one had been born anew. Perhaps their life before was honorable, filled with days of glory? Even so, this chance allowed them to carve themselves a new path, improve upon who they once were.

Their determination to pass these tests of virtue were unmatched.

What the beast spoke was eerie, what had it implied? A lack of sacrifice, greed, could that have led to this abomination? They could not help their curiosity. As the beast moved away, onto the next wisp to bestow judgement, a wave of relief washed over. They had lived, they would not die, not today. The beast's shambling, broken body was ghastly, the weight of the creature being easily felt with each step. The wisp began to move over the the plinth, just as the beast had directed. As the wisp moved, a look of disgust and disapproval was painted across their face at the sound of every crunching bone and futile scream emitted from those who had failed the beast's test. It was a shame that their new life was to be ended on such a short notice. The beast called those who allowed the beast to judge a fool, yet they continued to judge on their own accord, those poor souls. Nevertheless, the wisp continued the distance and arrived at the plinth, the terrifying aura of the beast deteriorating noticeably as he moved away, allowing him to relax a bit more. As the rest of the surviving wisps gathered to the plinths, their own gaze looked over to the others, standing on either side, studying any noticeable features that they had. After gazing upon those who surrounded them, they turned their eyes to the plinth, the many designs printed upon them, some of which appeared to the writing which they were incapable of understanding.

After a moment of hesitation, processing the beast's gesture towards the radiating plinth, the wisp's palm is moved forward, the cold metal of the edge being scraped against the skin, breaking through of it and drawing a pale, thick liquid, the distinct metallic smell of blood being quite distinguishable. He was prepared for the minor pain he thought he'd feel, though was surprised as he felt nothing as his blood fell into stone, his "essence being spilled." The sound of a hum filled his ears, how curious. He stared as a small area around the plinth was illuminated with a small, faint light, a glowing emitted from the once idle stones and carvings.

The faint voices were noticeable, the wisp steadying their near-broken mind as they watched the stone, attempting to analyze and discern what was being said. The silvered shard glimmered with a light that brought warmth and comfort, easing the wisp. The next second, this shard was piercing into their skin, which had caught them by surprise. Though, the pain of being struck was still absent, just as it had been with the plinth earlier. The now changing form of the shard was mesmerizing to watch, it appeared to be so malleable before it had settled, becoming a weapon that resonated with their soul. A bastard-length sword and a large kite shield were embedded into the stone, formed by the shard. A beautiful and elegant combination, it felt so strangely familiar. They reached out, their fingers wrapping around both and pulling them out of the stone where they once laid rest. gripping both the handle of the blade and the enarmes of the shield.

They felt a burning, sensation on their right hand, the same place that the shard had entered through his body. The pain was unnatural, it wasn't a true physical pain that one would feel from a stab wound. It wasn't natural. While the pain resonated within the singular point in his hand, he winced, attempting not to drop the silvered blade he had just acquired, turning his hand to his eyes where he would be able to see. He watched as a sigma was created, a symbol on his hand where he had been pierced.

Something else then crept upon their mind, just as the pain began to subside. It was an outside force, something foreign that they had not experienced or acknowledged before. A name, though they felt it was not their previous one. It was something new, something different. He had welcomed such a name with open arms. It was who they were now, the person that they would form was up to them and what they would do in the future. "Mordred."

Then, more names began to fill his mind. These names were different, though, and his mind began to assign each and every one of them to the individuals who stood nearby. Before he could speak, the voice of the beast rang out through his mind, calling out for all of them to move closer. The beast seemed patient with the wisps now. They had proven themselves thus far, this was a privilege that they had gained. Mordred made his way over to the beast, standing somewhat close to the creature, waiting for the others to gather around as well.
 
It let out an annoyed sigh before leaving it's comfortable place on the floor and moving to the pillar things the beast had instructed it to go. It payed little attention to the comments the beast was making about its choice and just tiredly walked to its destination. However, it didn't have to put up much effort in tuning it out for long as memories began to take shape in her mind. Her head began to fill at an alarming rate, causing her movement to become clumsy. Images began flooding her head, names, places, faces, all strangely familiar yet foreign at the same time.

One memory stood out more than the rest, a slim female with sickly pale skin, stringy hair filled with dirt. She had a weird burn on her left arm, some diamond like marking, this intrigued the nameless creature, why did this person have this. Another notable feature that her attention was a eye patch over one of her eyes and the strange look the girl held, she seemed so empty, so tired. Who was she. A gasp passed through the nameless creatures mouth, this was her. Who she used to be, no...who she is. Her name... her name...what is it?

"Kyo." slipped from her lips. That's her name. She is Kyo. She was still in a baffled state as she reached the stone and spoke her name on accident. The form of the stone twists and reveals a box with a shard inside it. With a shaky hand Kyo reached out for the shard when suddenly memories claimed her focus. A familiar feeling of extreme exhaustion and sickness filled her body. She was so sick, so very sick. An infection she got from working in the fields too long, some bug had bitten her on the job. She was young, not even an adult yet but she knew she was going to die soon. Her owners weren't allowing her to get the treatment she needed, or even rest. God she just wanted to rest. The medicine she needed wasn't that expensive, she could even have the chance of fighting it if she was allowed rest, but she wasn't. Her last hours, everything hurt, her head was spinning, she was so tired...please I just want... to....sleep. Dizziness, then nothing. Her last memories were the ground getting closer then nothing. The scythe for cutting the wheat had slipped, then she collapsed. Kyo wondered if she had even got a funeral, if anyone would attend it if she did.

Kyo whimpered at the sick feeling that was oh so familiar before it slowly faded into just her memories. That is who she is. That was her past. Somewhere in the time her memory started playing her eyes had shut, and they suddenly snapped open as she felt jaws on her wrist. "Wha-?" she whispered in confusion as she turned to see a strange creature biting her. Extreme pain flared down her arm causing her to grunt as she suppressed a yelp. After a period of time that felt like ages to her the thing released its hold on her wrist and transformed into something else. A black scythe. Something familiar from her past, something she had used before. However just looking at it made it obvious that it wasn't like the ones she knew she had used in her past. This one was sharper, deadlier. This wasn't used for crops, but for killing. Kyo could also see a beast like look to it, it was strangely similar to her yet so very different.

Kyo was jerked out of her shocked state about her weapon as she heard the beast speak. She made her way over to the place it told them to go and made her way over to it. She found a wall and leaned her scythe on it before sliding down and landing in a sitting position. With a sigh of content she closed her eyes and waited for whatever they were going to do next to begin. She honestly didn't care what it was as long as it didn't mean work.
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