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Old 02-18-2018, 11:58 AM   #253
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Originally Posted by Naruxami View Post


Fire represented rebirth, salvation, and even cleansing in some cultures. This was so much more true for you than it was for any of them, three important things that were extremely different... yet somehow they all represented different facets of your own personality. Your past, your present, and presumably your future. As the fire lapped at every inch of you, you couldn't help but laugh. You were ready for the end, your salvation, and your eventual rebirth that would come after. You had accepted you fate, but it appeared that Wisp had not. The horror on the candle's face was evident, along with a plaster of worry.

Was Wisp... remembering something? Did he know something? Or was he simply afraid of you, afraid of the madness that was gradually seeming to drag you deeper, pull you under forcefully and destroy every last inch of you. As much as you desired the flames, ready to let them pull you apart. You needed to help Wisp, you had to aid him. With a quick command, Wisp jumped onto your back, blasting down the guillotine blade with a well placed shadow ball. Hearing it clatter to the floor filled you and Wisp with relief. The candle quickly absorbed the flames around the two of you with flash fire, knowing full well thanks to your praise that he had saved your life once again.

You heard the spectre screech, fading away into the darkness as the rest of the wood crumbled away around you. As you rested your neck in the former hunk of wood, you felt the need to stand... but at the same time you felt so much relief upon realizing you could live another day. Wisp crawled off your back and looked you in the eyes, reminding you of your true goal here. That initial outcome, those eyes in the darkness, that eaten Beldum.

What do you do?

The guillotine crumpled around him... thanks to Wisp's efforts. The wraith screeched and faded, once more returning to the nether. Yet another shade of the Mad King, reclaimed by the halls of the damned. Where? Where was there respite? It wasn't something Austin could ascertain at this time. Perhaps the answer would never appear, if looked at in a logical way. A place of madness, insanity, and so forth... Perhaps it could only be figured out by falling into the very same thing that destroyed it. But there was never rest for the damned... He knew that all too well. Those eyes. Where were they now? Probably once more watching him in the darkness. Pushing himself up, Austin started to wander through the dungeon, Wisp at his side.

The iron bars of the prisons were caked with blood and rust. The fragments of the last prisoners lay scattered behind these prisons. He could never find a complete skeleton. Their deaths were cruel, and even after the bodies were defiled. Victims of the king, devoid of light or wings. This was not a place where holy beings such as angels tread. No, this was the home of wraiths, ghouls, and demons. Was he such a being? Perhaps. He has killed before, for the sake of some outer abomination that could not be comprehended in this plane of existence. In a sense, he too was like the skeletons littering the dungeon. Broken. Defiled.

Austin soon made his way towards the stairs, looking up. Most of the people sent here would only see these in the distance. A tantalizing reminder of escape. Here, he would escape. Escape and willingly journey back towards the heart of the castle. He could still feel those eyes watching him. He needed to find them. Even if it was the castle driving him mad. Even if it as an illusion. Austin needed to find those eyes. That gaze... It was all too familiar. He didn't know why. Perhaps he would learn why if he finally corned them. Those yellow eyes. Similar to his own hazel ones, but much more vibrant... Much more ethereal. He took his first steps up the dungeons stairs, ready to find those eyes once more.

Ghost Legion
Hawke | Leo

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