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Vindicant

Wyrd

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Spoiler

 

Water had always scared Karyssmov. He could never really put a reason to it, but he feared whenever he crossed or stared into it. When the world ends, the boats they inevitably cross over always proved to make him sick to his stomach.

 

He wretched over the sides constantly, and simply didn’t feel safe. Always, without fail, he’d retreat down into the safety of the ship, ignoring the rocking that plagued the wooden vessel as they move on once more.

 

 

Then again, fear was not a new thing to the man. Living this long, you tend to run across a few things that send shivers down your spine or crawling in your flesh. But it always came back to water-- always water, and nothing more. There was no beast there, there was nothing unsafe, and yet it made him fear nonetheless. He avoids puddles, lakes, oceans and all. Everything to do with it, he feared. It was benign-- stupid, nonsensical! He kept telling himself it was ridiculous, and that it was nothing but his own overactive imagination. But every time, it always came right back to the same darkened water. Was it dark before? A trick of the light, maybe.

 

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The air stung with sulphur, with the scent of green in his nose. A peculiar mix as he drifts off near the goblin shaman, hoping to find answers to the question he could never solve. As he opens his eyes once more, he doesn’t find the hell he had expected-- it was a field, with woods on either side. His brows knit in confusion, and the shaman stares at him for a moment in confusion before gesturing them forth. Hands that were not his own and yet he controlled them-- he pushes forth through vines that rotted and lived at the same time. A deer traipsed through the woods, aging and dying then reforming and being reborn every single second.

 

He tore his eyes away from the macabre sight and continued on. A hand rests on his shoulder for a moment, the kindly smile of the shaman. The Prince could not dare to look him in the eyes to return the kindness. The woods melted into each other here, forming and unforming like an undulating mass that the poor elf could not comprehend. A strand of white hair that wasn’t his own is puffed away from his eyes with an errant misty breath.

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And then as if it were a dream, a clearing in the dense woods. It seemed empty, the grass dying in shades of brown then being reborn in delightful green. A constant change, a constant rebirth. It was never the same here, perplexing the man as he steps forward. Was he man? Elf? Even he did not know anymore. His soul wasn’t even wholly his own anymore, so how could he ever tell? The answer shot forth from the ground like an aberrant seed, a peculiar sapling which grew tall into a tree. Then it shortened, and was a sapling once more. Rebirth and new beginnings. A constant in this realm, it explained with a smile. The Spirit saw into the man-elf-thing, saw him for who he was. What he was. Demon-summoner. Blood-binder. Warlock. Heathen. And it did not blink, did not saunter, did not lie. It simply looked, and he smiled. It spoke in a tone that he did not dare to comprehend, something he couldn’t comprehend.

 

A second chance. A chance to look into water without fear. Knowing what he knew, he stepped away, his soul feeling ever-slightly lighter.

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Karyssmov wasn’t even his name. It wasn’t the first time he danced around a false name, and even now, no one really knew what it really was. With shaking hands, he reaches forth for the side of the puddle, and looks down into it.

 

A dark-skinned elf with white hair. That is who he saw. But it looked nothing like him, it couldn’t be him. And yet there it was, clear as crystal. In the same breath, it shifted into a man of ginger hair and pale complexion, then back into the facsimile of ‘Karyssmov’. Even that was a lie, and a lie he could not understand. But for once, he finally knew why he feared it. He could change. He could be a new man, and all he had to do was try. He had his task, and now he could look into the water.

 

He wasn’t afraid anymore.

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Spoiler

spirits are frankly the best psychologists because they are magic psychologists

 

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9 minutes ago, Vindicant said:
Spoiler

spirits are frankly the best psychologists because they are magic psychologists

 

Agreed, Anyways it's a good writing!

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Somethings ALIVE in the ocean

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