The Trial of Soul (Talon)
Posted: Thu Feb 17, 2022 8:02 pm
The Ocean of Soul
Frost 88th, 121 AoS
Through the door, Talon went, entering the Trial of Soul. He would find himself in the air, over a vast, endless ocean, a living ocean, that went on in all directions. Talon would be able to feel everything that Rickter was feeling through their Companion bond. However, it was greatly amplified here in the Land of Nod. The emotions were raging and swirling within this connection, just as violently as the Maelstrom there, a hundred yard away from Talon. Talon would be able to feel the weakness and helplessness within Rickter, for having failed to be strong enough to protect those around him well enough. He would feel Rickter's self-consciousness at having made many poor choices in error when he was given vitally important tasks. There within the bond was the self loathing and cowardice at not being brave enough to move forward and fix so many things. There was the fear of weakness and death, exacerbated and made apparent by the love he had for a man immortal.
But there was one feeling more prominent than all of them. It was the slow, emptying feeling, a decay of sorts. Everything around Talon right now was Rickter, truer than anything else, confirmed through their bond. But that everything, that soul that makes Rickter, Rickter, was fading, disappearing, emptying out. And Talon would be able to feel that the maelstrom, with its winds far stronger than the hurricanes of the southern continents, was what was ripping those pieces of Rickter away.
The waters around the maelstrom were deep, pure blackness only a few meters down, and roiling, waves crashing in nonsensical fashions and directions. The clouds above were deep grey for a few meters, before fading into absolute blackness. Lightning cracked overhead the eye of the maelstrom, silhouetting large, shadowy figures within the winds. Shapes that would be oddly reminiscent of the Rathari form of Talon's beloved, and yet wrong. Twisted, jagged, and fractured they would appear, with just enough detail to reveal them to be that man.
And then it began.
Lightning cracked outside of the maelstrom, striking Talon in the sternum. There was no pain, no electrocution or burning, but a rune was left there, glowing the bright light that had struck him. And with it, Talon's muscles shrank, leaving him a much smaller version of himself. Another crack of lightning struck Talon in the forehead, and another rune appeared. Memories were locked away until he only had memories in which he witnessed or felt failure. A third crack of lightning, a rune over his heart, and every fear that Talon had ever felt were now at the forefront of him. A fourth and final crack of lightning struck the Prince in his left eye.
Through the left eye, Talon would be able to see Rickter from a disembodied view. He was in a tent, laid upon a bedroll, several people sent on the expedition looking down at him. His forehead was slick with sweat, a fever perhaps. He was shirtless, revealing an inky blackness spreading through his veins, outwards from his heart in all directions on his body. Those around him were shown to be wielding several injuries now. They were speaking and their faces only grew more worried, but no sound could be heard by Talon. This vision granted to Talon would remain so long as his left eye was open.
Frost 88th, 121 AoS
Through the door, Talon went, entering the Trial of Soul. He would find himself in the air, over a vast, endless ocean, a living ocean, that went on in all directions. Talon would be able to feel everything that Rickter was feeling through their Companion bond. However, it was greatly amplified here in the Land of Nod. The emotions were raging and swirling within this connection, just as violently as the Maelstrom there, a hundred yard away from Talon. Talon would be able to feel the weakness and helplessness within Rickter, for having failed to be strong enough to protect those around him well enough. He would feel Rickter's self-consciousness at having made many poor choices in error when he was given vitally important tasks. There within the bond was the self loathing and cowardice at not being brave enough to move forward and fix so many things. There was the fear of weakness and death, exacerbated and made apparent by the love he had for a man immortal.
But there was one feeling more prominent than all of them. It was the slow, emptying feeling, a decay of sorts. Everything around Talon right now was Rickter, truer than anything else, confirmed through their bond. But that everything, that soul that makes Rickter, Rickter, was fading, disappearing, emptying out. And Talon would be able to feel that the maelstrom, with its winds far stronger than the hurricanes of the southern continents, was what was ripping those pieces of Rickter away.
The waters around the maelstrom were deep, pure blackness only a few meters down, and roiling, waves crashing in nonsensical fashions and directions. The clouds above were deep grey for a few meters, before fading into absolute blackness. Lightning cracked overhead the eye of the maelstrom, silhouetting large, shadowy figures within the winds. Shapes that would be oddly reminiscent of the Rathari form of Talon's beloved, and yet wrong. Twisted, jagged, and fractured they would appear, with just enough detail to reveal them to be that man.
And then it began.
Lightning cracked outside of the maelstrom, striking Talon in the sternum. There was no pain, no electrocution or burning, but a rune was left there, glowing the bright light that had struck him. And with it, Talon's muscles shrank, leaving him a much smaller version of himself. Another crack of lightning struck Talon in the forehead, and another rune appeared. Memories were locked away until he only had memories in which he witnessed or felt failure. A third crack of lightning, a rune over his heart, and every fear that Talon had ever felt were now at the forefront of him. A fourth and final crack of lightning struck the Prince in his left eye.
Through the left eye, Talon would be able to see Rickter from a disembodied view. He was in a tent, laid upon a bedroll, several people sent on the expedition looking down at him. His forehead was slick with sweat, a fever perhaps. He was shirtless, revealing an inky blackness spreading through his veins, outwards from his heart in all directions on his body. Those around him were shown to be wielding several injuries now. They were speaking and their faces only grew more worried, but no sound could be heard by Talon. This vision granted to Talon would remain so long as his left eye was open.