The lost and The wandering.
Many call me lost.
My name is of no importance - It never was, or ever will be.
I have no solid form, I am just a soul, travelling between Lives, Memories, and Bodies.
I was once part of The Horde, with no name to call my own.
But.
I began to think for myself, a so far explainable phenomenon in my kind.
I separated my person from The Horde, and begun travelling.
Despite my history, many realize I am on my own, and I serve no-one.
Servitude leads to blind and mindless creatures - united under one. The exact thing I walked away from.
Instead, I work as a mercenary, killing for money, though I have little use for it.
When I am alone, I hear a voice that isn't mine. It's mysterious. It knows my being, my real self.
It gave me my name. It gave me my thoughts. It gave me my voice, my freedom, and my purpose.
The voice tells me that I am an oddity, a marvel. A hollow shell, with a mind of it's own.
I am great.
I am darkness.
I am death.
I am
Jeniseus.
YOU ARE READING
Jeniseus
FantasyThe wandering soul, meets a Lost horde member with a mind of their own. The creature is hollow, most of it's soul still kept by it's previous master. The creature serves no-one. The soul gives it life, purpose, and a voice. The creature takes a name...
