Reliving Memories - Rebirth

Religiously, she avoided being in the water at all costs.

When submerged even slightly, a chilling terror would flood her mind, flashing distant memories of other waters for what seemed like an eternity. It was the one sensation she could never shake, no matter how many times she confronted it – each time the fear and hopelessness washed over her, boiling into a bitter rage.

But now, the one thing she must protect the most had fallen into the sea below the lighthouse of Coldwind point, and she had to get it back before it was destroyed; a race against time and the elements, through the darkest secret she kept swathed within the deepest fear she knew.

Taking one last pointless deep breath, the Teir`Dal ran forward and dived into the seas, her white chainweave clothing quickly becoming slicked against her body like a second skin as her long black hair began to slip free of its bonds. With long hair twisting around her, she sunk below the waves, immobilized by fear and memory her unblinking eyes stared out before her…



The body floated in the water, drifting deep within the currents off the coast of the arid wastes once known as the Commonlands. The aquatic life drifted far from the corpse, avoiding the entire area surrounding it as though they knew to beware the creature that it had once been. Despite having been floating for nearly a year within the salty waters, the corpse remained as it had been when the Lucanic Knights had dumped it there.

Unblinking eyes stared out, their light long dead but their colour still vivid in the murky waters; her eyes, so pretty. Within those dead eyes, one could – if any ever found the corpse – find many strange emotions and stories…



The grinning Kerra found her swathed in the Caul all beings bare after death, clinging to the Shroud just above the body floating with the Skinland’s ocean. Purring to himself, the roguish feline reached out and grasped her shoulder, pulling the Caul back from her face and body. Her bright fuchsiac violet eyes snapped open as she tumbled from the Shroud’s grasp, wild with panic when she found that her…body…was nothing but dead weight in the Kerra’s arms.

“Carrreful there, sugah,” he purred to her, gently lifting her up into his arms, “you might hurt that pretty face of yours more thrashing about like that.”

After her first few attempts that only lead to coughing fits, the tiny Teir`Dal was finally able to spit out a few words as she was carried across the ocean floor.

“Where the hell am I?” she hissed.

The feline grinned broader, eyes sparkling with madness. He continued to walk the ocean floor, carrying the Teir`Dal up and onto the shores before laying her down gently. Taking up a seat next to her, he watched the newborn wraith struggle to regain the use of her limbs. She glared, clearly wary of the feline that had rescued her, giving him a look that might have sent lesser ghosts racing away for their unlives.

“A fiery one we have, yes. Full of anger and pain, one that won’t stay here long,” he purred in reply finally. “You are in the Shadowlands, young one – this is where the dead go once they are gone since they cannot return to their beloved gods.”

Ironic that her first movement in this world be raising a hand to her throat, searching for the deep axe wound; instead of a deep gash, she found a smooth shadow of her dominate wound, and further inspection of her arms and legs revealed that though unbroken, her phantom body bared the scars of her corpse in a similar fashion. Standing in a panic, she looked much like a colt taking their first steps before collapsing down to the ground again.

“Yes, a spitfire, delightful! Already fighting to stand, so soon after being taken from the Shroud,” the Kerra purred again, “pity you won’t stay long. You’d do our cause well, where you only meant to take it as your cause too.”

She gave only a withering glare as she tried to stand again, this time remaining upright on shaky legs, her arms out to her sides slightly for balance before carefully moving into a crouching stance. Though a menacing stance, her lack of balance was evident, which lessened her hard edge to a degree.

“Why couldn’t I move?” she finally asked, still standing precariously on her weak legs.

The feline chuckled deeply, his grin an ever-present feature of his face.

“You have been mostly dead, of course…and just like a newborn in the Skinlands, your form is weak, new and until a few moments ago completely dependant upon the Shroud for existence,” he replied, still sitting casually on the shore. “It’s like a fresh start, a clean slate…aside from the fact that something has kept you from moving beyond, and I don’t believe it has a damn thing to do with the precious Gods…”

Taking a small step forward, the dark elven woman looked back out into the ocean, watching the Shrouded fish swimming along side many skeletal ones. The image was disconcerting, even for someone raised within Freeport with its necromancers and their skeletal pets.

Kneeling slowly, she watched the fish in their macabre dances, amazed at the differences between each individual creature. Some were bathed in a vivid colour of life, while others were more muted and some even a corpse like gray next to their skeletal companions who bore chips and fractures within their bones. Movement caused her eyes to wander upward and to her left, revealing a dock quite a bit like the one she remembered being there before her…death.

This dock, however, was warped and decrepit, with rotting planks and gaping maws within the structure. Wisps of decay swept over the entire dock, like a thin shawl of mist that made the wood look even deader. As she watched, her face twisted into a grimace, finding such corruption wholly distasteful.

A single man strode across the dock, unhindered by the twisted wood and she slowly realized that he must be in the mortal world. His entire shape was swathed in a sort of mist, though his being burned brightly with life and some sort of purpose for his journey. She rarely had taken notice of the state of others she was not directly involved with when she was alive, so the revelation of his mood surprised her.

“Ah, the first moments of looking about the new world, I remember them as though they were but yesterday,” the reclining feline purred, watching her eyes take in the scene. Crossing his legs, the Kerra leaned forward over them, perching his head upon his hands with evident amusement. “So, I’m sure I know what you’re seeing, because I see it too. I can assure you as the years pass, you get used to this vision and it stops being so disturbing.”

With grace, the feline stood and walked towards the woman, pausing a few steps away with arms spread open as if to show he had no malicious intentions. Still glaring, the Teir`Dal straightened as best she could and watched him, the mortal running up the road no longer captivating her attention.

“Quick to learn, I see, Spitfire – a rare trait in these lands, to be sure,” he purred, motioning for her to follow him back down into the ocean. “Now, forget that you’re supposed to float in the water, and walk with me…”

Grinning all the while, the Kerra slowly walked backward until the tips of his ears disappeared below the gently rolling waves. Hesitantly, she began to walk forward, half closing her eyes as the water rose higher and higher; her feet remained on the floor of the ocean as her head slipped below the water, and after a moment she opened her burning eyes to look at the feline.

“That’s not too horrible, though it still slows one’s movements quite a bit...” she replied, “and apparently mutes words slightly…”

Nodding, the Kerra turned and began walking forward again. For some time they walked in total silence, the feline intent on his chosen destination and the elf distracted by her new outlook on the world. The stark contrast of the living world overlaid with the world of the dead struck a deep chord in her mind, at first balking at the macabre scenes and then beginning to see the uses of such visions.

Her reverie was brought to a drastic end when the feline stopped – she wasn’t looking in that direction at all, and ran right into his side. At first she glared up at him, until she saw what he was staring at ahead.

Floating in the deeper tides was the broken and batter body of a dark elf, the long black hair swirling like dark mists about the corpse, its fuchsiac violet eyes staring unblinking but without site. The other Knights had even stripped the body of its deathly robes, leaving it naked when they had dumped it into the ocean.

“Yes, that is you, Spitfire,” the Kerra purred quietly, his grin lessened considerably. “But what do you see when you look at your corpse, enfant?”

She could not gather her thoughts for many moments, memories of her death and the events that happened after flooding her mind.

Her tormentor, Osarosce, had been sent to fetch her body from the street beneath Dethknell; he had taken her back into his chambers, bathing and then defiling her body even in death. Once he had finished, three Initiate Knights had been given the naked body to dispose of, carrying it in a threadbare cloth to the Antonican docks where they rolled it out of the cloth and into the sea.

After what seemed like an eternity, her mind began to register what she was actually looking at. Though devoid of the vibrant life she had seen in many of the aquatic life, her corpse was lacking in the bland gray of the dying fish; it hung somewhere between them, as though waiting for something to push it one way or the other.

“What…does it mean?” she whispered, eyes wide.

The feline shrugged slightly, his grin broadening as he turned and began walking back to shore. At first his stride was slow and languid, quickening as he felt the water begin to move behind him. With another withering glare, the Teir`Dal woman followed him back to the shore, looking back over her shoulder with alarm until her corpse was out of sight again.

Once they had reached the shore, she finally reached out and grasped the Kerra by his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and look at her. She was met with a broad grin, one that never seemed to leave the feline’s face but only grow and shrink and size. That grin toyed with her rage, pulling one moment at her strings to bring it forth only to push it away abruptly. Her fist raised up, as it had so many times when she was a Lucanic, a warning to her prey that they had best not play coy but here she was met only with a wider grin.

“Listen you grinning little fucker, I’m sick of your games. I don’t care who you think you are,” she growled, “but you’re going to drop the act and tell me exactly what the hell is going on. Now!”

Finally, the grin vanished, the feline’s face becoming grim with a sudden air of seriousness wrapping about him. Though it was obvious to her that the Kerra was not intimidated, she took the change in attitude as a good sign, and continued to grasp his shoulder, pulling him down slightly until his eyes were level with her own.

“Words alone will not explain it to you, Shade,” the feline replied, “for now we shall slumber, and tomorrow we shall begin…”



The world slammed back into place around her, her lungs expelling the water that had gathered within them before she began her decent further into the waters. Powerful legs kicked, propelling her down and across the ocean floor as her eyes searched for light reflecting off metal. After several false alarms, she finally saw what she was looking for and began to swim towards it…