04-04-2016, 11:34 PM
It was a strange thing, to be drowning on air.
The Sage floated in an empty sky, but could not draw a breath. His mouth opened, closed, nothing passed between his lips. No
thing disturbed the soft blue glow that surrounded him. It was so still, so peaceful, so quiet. His mind was slow... at peace... melting away...
ԢՅՅժ ҴԢӔҴ ՃԢՒՇԢ ՇӨѾՅҨ ԷӨҊ ДӨԥ
The swelling tone shattered the stillness of the sky, shocking painful awareness into the Sage's mind. He would have cried out, but the emptiness inside his lungs was suddenly far more present. The Sage screamed mutely as memories flashed though his brain like the lightning that had rent the sky above him. The Storm was more powerful than even he had expected, tearing into the ship with an avaricious enthusiasm. His wounded arm smacking painfully against the banister of the ship as it was slammed into a wall of raging sea.
ӔՇՇՅԖҴ ДӨԥҊ ԷӔҴՅ ӔѼժ ՀѼӨՃ ДӨԥҊ ԖԥҊԖӨҨՅ
The Voice was formless, meaningless, and unrelenting in his mind. He watched a member of the ships crew hurled from the rigging and into the sea. The pirate captain rushed back towards her cabin, emerging in seconds in a strange suit and helmet. Without hesitation she dove off the side of the ship, a large metal container connected to her back. The lightning continued to arc across the sky, weaving a web more deadly than any spider could dream. There was a horrendous crash, as the secondary mast snapped clean off and flipped end over end away from the ship, taking another screaming sailor with it.
He pushed himself off of the banister, he had to get to shelter. There was another snap, and the world below him was flung into turmoil.
ԷӨҊ ДӨԥ ӔҊՅ ҴӨ ҊՅѾӔՒѼ ӔѼժ ҴӨ ҊՅѾՒѼժ
He was falling, through air, through wood, through water. Lost beyond hope of the surface, or even of knowing his fate. He could not draw breath, but there was nothing filling his lungs. This was to be his fate, to perish in the wreckage he had caused. He could not find an escape. He would learn what it was to die.
The thought did not scare him as much as he expected. True he did not wish his life to end, but at this point he seemed to have no other option. In the face of this unavoidable conclusion his raging and railing seemed pointless and futile. His already dulled mind sank into acceptance of his fate.
ҴӨ ӸՅӔҊ ҴԢՅ ҨԖՅՅՇԢ ҴԢՅ ՇԥҊҨՅ ҴӨ ԹҊӔҨԖ ҴԢՅ ՅѾԖҴՒՅժ ԢӔѼժ
But this voice would not leave him in peace. It railed against him, demanding his attention and enforcing its supremacy. It forced sensation back into his limbs, refused their limpness. They tensed abruptly, his back arching as the hitherto missing pain returned in full measure the debt it had promised. There was now fire within his lungs, burning through to replace the nothingness that they contained. His mind had also transformed into a brimstone hell-scape, the fire within his chest reflecting the flame that suffused his thoughts. He was a beacon, blazing in the depths with a boiling heat.
ҊՅՀՒѼժվՅ ҴԢՅ ҨՅӴՅҊҴՒՅѼ ҊՅҴUҊѼ ҴHՅ ӸՒӸվՒӨѾӔѼՇY ҊՅҨҴӨҊՅ ҴԢՅ ՃӨҊժҨ ҴӨ ҴԢՅՒҊ ԖӨՃՅҊ
The Voice commanded him, refused to allow him to slip away from . There were plans that needed him, opportunities that were not to be ignored.
He was too valuable a tool to be allowed to sink to the bottom of the pool.
He was forcefully lifted out of the nothing, into the water. He was drowning far below the tumultuous surface of the ocean. With an internal scream of rage he made to swim upwards. His foot was stuck, one of the ropes from the ship had coiled itself around his right leg, and was dragging him farther and farther below the water. The Sage tried to free his leg, but the rope had him in as firm a grasp as any kraken's tendril could aspire to. He didn't have time to extract the rope again, every second gave him less time to make it back to the surface. Already his lungs felt near to bursting, There was no chance he would make it back. Already the whiteness was encroaching on his vision. It reminded him of the Nexus in a way, the purity and stillness. He began to feel his mind slipping once more, the newly found awareness fading from his senses already as the water surrounded him. The briefly lit candle, afire with intent, doused in a torrent of water. And the voice had fled.
It no longer echoed in his mind, did not prevent the erosion of his awareness once again. The voice was gone, as abruptly as it had intruded. It was simply being unfair, the Sage decided. To re-alert his senses and awaken his mind to his own assured death, simply to do nothing and let the futility and helplessness wash over him again. It was cruel.
The anger and rage welled up in his brain, amassing into a single ball of power deep within his core. The power surged from his core, searing the sides of his throat as it went. It filled his mind and mouth, consumed all of his thoughts. The Voice was not gone at all, was never going to leave. It owned his thoughts, and would not ever release the grip it possessed. He was to be a vessel, a conduit for the return.
Somehow, there was air in his lungs, where none had been previously. With a concentrated power behind his motion he spoke with a voice that was not his own.
“ѼӨՃ Ւ ՃՒվվ ӔҊՒҨՅ”
There was a blazing light deep within the depths of the ocean, and the Sage felt himself lifted, hurled through the ocean at breakneck speed. Propelled onwards by the currents of the future.
The Sage floated in an empty sky, but could not draw a breath. His mouth opened, closed, nothing passed between his lips. No
thing disturbed the soft blue glow that surrounded him. It was so still, so peaceful, so quiet. His mind was slow... at peace... melting away...
ԢՅՅժ ҴԢӔҴ ՃԢՒՇԢ ՇӨѾՅҨ ԷӨҊ ДӨԥ
The swelling tone shattered the stillness of the sky, shocking painful awareness into the Sage's mind. He would have cried out, but the emptiness inside his lungs was suddenly far more present. The Sage screamed mutely as memories flashed though his brain like the lightning that had rent the sky above him. The Storm was more powerful than even he had expected, tearing into the ship with an avaricious enthusiasm. His wounded arm smacking painfully against the banister of the ship as it was slammed into a wall of raging sea.
ӔՇՇՅԖҴ ДӨԥҊ ԷӔҴՅ ӔѼժ ՀѼӨՃ ДӨԥҊ ԖԥҊԖӨҨՅ
The Voice was formless, meaningless, and unrelenting in his mind. He watched a member of the ships crew hurled from the rigging and into the sea. The pirate captain rushed back towards her cabin, emerging in seconds in a strange suit and helmet. Without hesitation she dove off the side of the ship, a large metal container connected to her back. The lightning continued to arc across the sky, weaving a web more deadly than any spider could dream. There was a horrendous crash, as the secondary mast snapped clean off and flipped end over end away from the ship, taking another screaming sailor with it.
He pushed himself off of the banister, he had to get to shelter. There was another snap, and the world below him was flung into turmoil.
ԷӨҊ ДӨԥ ӔҊՅ ҴӨ ҊՅѾӔՒѼ ӔѼժ ҴӨ ҊՅѾՒѼժ
He was falling, through air, through wood, through water. Lost beyond hope of the surface, or even of knowing his fate. He could not draw breath, but there was nothing filling his lungs. This was to be his fate, to perish in the wreckage he had caused. He could not find an escape. He would learn what it was to die.
The thought did not scare him as much as he expected. True he did not wish his life to end, but at this point he seemed to have no other option. In the face of this unavoidable conclusion his raging and railing seemed pointless and futile. His already dulled mind sank into acceptance of his fate.
ҴӨ ӸՅӔҊ ҴԢՅ ҨԖՅՅՇԢ ҴԢՅ ՇԥҊҨՅ ҴӨ ԹҊӔҨԖ ҴԢՅ ՅѾԖҴՒՅժ ԢӔѼժ
But this voice would not leave him in peace. It railed against him, demanding his attention and enforcing its supremacy. It forced sensation back into his limbs, refused their limpness. They tensed abruptly, his back arching as the hitherto missing pain returned in full measure the debt it had promised. There was now fire within his lungs, burning through to replace the nothingness that they contained. His mind had also transformed into a brimstone hell-scape, the fire within his chest reflecting the flame that suffused his thoughts. He was a beacon, blazing in the depths with a boiling heat.
ҊՅՀՒѼժվՅ ҴԢՅ ҨՅӴՅҊҴՒՅѼ ҊՅҴUҊѼ ҴHՅ ӸՒӸվՒӨѾӔѼՇY ҊՅҨҴӨҊՅ ҴԢՅ ՃӨҊժҨ ҴӨ ҴԢՅՒҊ ԖӨՃՅҊ
The Voice commanded him, refused to allow him to slip away from . There were plans that needed him, opportunities that were not to be ignored.
He was too valuable a tool to be allowed to sink to the bottom of the pool.
He was forcefully lifted out of the nothing, into the water. He was drowning far below the tumultuous surface of the ocean. With an internal scream of rage he made to swim upwards. His foot was stuck, one of the ropes from the ship had coiled itself around his right leg, and was dragging him farther and farther below the water. The Sage tried to free his leg, but the rope had him in as firm a grasp as any kraken's tendril could aspire to. He didn't have time to extract the rope again, every second gave him less time to make it back to the surface. Already his lungs felt near to bursting, There was no chance he would make it back. Already the whiteness was encroaching on his vision. It reminded him of the Nexus in a way, the purity and stillness. He began to feel his mind slipping once more, the newly found awareness fading from his senses already as the water surrounded him. The briefly lit candle, afire with intent, doused in a torrent of water. And the voice had fled.
It no longer echoed in his mind, did not prevent the erosion of his awareness once again. The voice was gone, as abruptly as it had intruded. It was simply being unfair, the Sage decided. To re-alert his senses and awaken his mind to his own assured death, simply to do nothing and let the futility and helplessness wash over him again. It was cruel.
The anger and rage welled up in his brain, amassing into a single ball of power deep within his core. The power surged from his core, searing the sides of his throat as it went. It filled his mind and mouth, consumed all of his thoughts. The Voice was not gone at all, was never going to leave. It owned his thoughts, and would not ever release the grip it possessed. He was to be a vessel, a conduit for the return.
Somehow, there was air in his lungs, where none had been previously. With a concentrated power behind his motion he spoke with a voice that was not his own.
“ѼӨՃ Ւ ՃՒվվ ӔҊՒҨՅ”
There was a blazing light deep within the depths of the ocean, and the Sage felt himself lifted, hurled through the ocean at breakneck speed. Propelled onwards by the currents of the future.
If history is to become legend, it first must be recorded.