06-13-2009, 01:50 AM
The black beast was slain, and HawkWind felt his own consciousness begin dimming in time with the dying monster's. He observed her as he felt his life draining away, and saw her leave the site, beginning on her journey back to the realm of the living, of the waking. This place...it was a place of dreams, but also a place of death. It was no place for the waking, and no place for the living. And so it was that as she made her way out, he realized that she had made open a path for his own escape as well.
The disowned spirit emerged from that darkest nightmare with the shedding of those fell memories, and soon was forgetting them himself, as if in a dream. From his ethereal vantage point, he was able to observe the phenomenon more closely. It appeared to be some kind of memory well or vortex, a place where intent and shades of the past layered heavily over one another. In order to exist, the phenomenon had needed a lead actor, someone to fill the role of VoidFane, and that had been the first spirit to enter it--himself. It had not needed a second, he had been trapped in that place for many weeks before the black female had arrived, but it welcomed her as a plausible victim for the main character of the drama. The wolf whose spirit was now free had never been a scientist in thought or action, and so it was difficult for him to piece together how this bubble of other-life material had formed for a soul that no longer existed in any fashion whatever.
Very powerful spirits could sometimes project an aura of their own perception around them, he had seen another spirit do this around mortals before, creating visions, but had never been of sufficient ability himself. The idea of such a reality bubble forming in the absence of a projecting soul seemed...well, wrong, to him. Then again, spirits rarely died entirely, they were usually banished or ascended to one place or another. Maybe the actual destruction of this one had created a void, a vacuum which kept all of these experiences together even after the spirit's death? Or maybe his soul had simply been so potent that these residual memories took a long time to fade, and he'd been drawn into the whirlpool, circling the event horizon before sinking into nothing before the warrior had come and saved him.
The spirit smiled to himself. He remembered his old identity, now. It wasn't as dramatic as VoidFane or HawkWind's, but it suited him just fine. Maybe that woman's personal battle had been about symbols, some personal quest she'd had to undertake for herself, but he knew that--whether the rest of it was real or not--she had saved him. He faced where he thought he'd last seen her, and answered her bow with one of his own. He hoped that she had a good life after returning to the living. As for him, well, he was a lingering spirit, and he needed to get back to the unfinished business that was keeping him from his afterlife.
The disowned spirit emerged from that darkest nightmare with the shedding of those fell memories, and soon was forgetting them himself, as if in a dream. From his ethereal vantage point, he was able to observe the phenomenon more closely. It appeared to be some kind of memory well or vortex, a place where intent and shades of the past layered heavily over one another. In order to exist, the phenomenon had needed a lead actor, someone to fill the role of VoidFane, and that had been the first spirit to enter it--himself. It had not needed a second, he had been trapped in that place for many weeks before the black female had arrived, but it welcomed her as a plausible victim for the main character of the drama. The wolf whose spirit was now free had never been a scientist in thought or action, and so it was difficult for him to piece together how this bubble of other-life material had formed for a soul that no longer existed in any fashion whatever.
Very powerful spirits could sometimes project an aura of their own perception around them, he had seen another spirit do this around mortals before, creating visions, but had never been of sufficient ability himself. The idea of such a reality bubble forming in the absence of a projecting soul seemed...well, wrong, to him. Then again, spirits rarely died entirely, they were usually banished or ascended to one place or another. Maybe the actual destruction of this one had created a void, a vacuum which kept all of these experiences together even after the spirit's death? Or maybe his soul had simply been so potent that these residual memories took a long time to fade, and he'd been drawn into the whirlpool, circling the event horizon before sinking into nothing before the warrior had come and saved him.
The spirit smiled to himself. He remembered his old identity, now. It wasn't as dramatic as VoidFane or HawkWind's, but it suited him just fine. Maybe that woman's personal battle had been about symbols, some personal quest she'd had to undertake for herself, but he knew that--whether the rest of it was real or not--she had saved him. He faced where he thought he'd last seen her, and answered her bow with one of his own. He hoped that she had a good life after returning to the living. As for him, well, he was a lingering spirit, and he needed to get back to the unfinished business that was keeping him from his afterlife.