Land of Kingsflame

An Awakening

She had awoken months ago.

In the eternal dark, she had felt a bond sever. Not a bond, but a presence that had held a blanket over her senses suddenly disappeared, and she began to wake.

She was still asleep, immobile, but her mind was aware..

She did not know who or where she was, but some animalistic instinct told her that if she stayed in this state, survival was unlikely.

So she reached out with her mind, pushing past the iron that surrounded her. But it seemed she was far from any sort of life, because no matter how hard she tried, no one crossed her awareness.

Once, she chanced upon a small animal, possibly a rat, but it felt her presence in its mind and scuttled off in terror.

So she began to explore her surroundings, her mind searching for some trace of life.

Wherever she was, there were memories in that place.

Memories of pain, and fire, and grief.

As time went on she felt her body deteriorating, and she became more desperate. She threw her mind and its power out into the world, until she one day felt a presence that haunted the space she was in.

It wasn't a physical presence, but a ghost of memory. Someone whose dreams and thoughts brought them back unwillingly.

She begged them, whoever they were, pulling on the thread that connected them to this place so full of pain and anguish.

Her hope and excitement grew as she pulled that person's awareness, their ghost of memory closer to her, but the closer they got, the more they resisted, thrashing against her constant tugging until she let go.

She did not give up, however. Something deep down told her that presence would return, so she kept watch.

Sure enough, they returned. And again she pulled them closer and closer until she could see whoever it was.

She saw the blurry outline of a beautiful male, with dark gold skin and haunted eyes. He could not see her.

He was thrashing, as if he couldn't stand the thought of being in this place. He hadn't noticed her presence in his mind; he was too busy trying to flee from her hold; the hold that kept him in whatever this place was.

For the first time in hundreds of years, she spoke. She did not recognize her own voice; it was as foreign to her as a stranger's.

"Look at me."

He continued fighting the thread she held him by, and she willed him to listen for only a few seconds.

"Look at me," she repeated.

He froze. But his eyes were still closed. He couldn't see her then, she thought, it was likely a dream that had led him to haunt this place. But he knew where it was and that was something. There was miserable little hope that he would come to find her and save her. But she tried anyway.

"Help," she whispered.

"Who are you?"

His voice was low and rough, and somehow familiar.

She preserved the image of him in her mind, for if she died in this place she wanted to remember him.

Her strength was draining and she could feel his consciousness leaving as she let go. All she could whisper was, "I don't know."

140 reads omg. I'm flattered. It's been a couple of months and I'm sorry for this short chapter-but it was really hard to write even if it seems basic. More coming soon hopefully!