He leapt into darkness. The gap behind him closed and the blackness engulfed him fully. His gaze he kept fixed on the one source of light: Sohothin. The flaming blade would not be taken from him. Not now. The salvation of his people depended on it. The wretched Ghosts had plagued his kind for too long.
He reached. He could almost grab… But just as he saw his claws met the handle of the blade, his snout met the floor of the seemingly endless pit. Loudly and bluntly. He groaned and touched his sore snout. The heavy pain subsided, and he wiped off the blood. The light he had followed was gone. Sohothin was gone. His plan… had failed. Rage and despair built up within him. He growled and roared, flinging his head backward.
The gray nebula that surrounded him was thick and chilling. The ground he stood on was made out of a strange stone. It glistened, even though the Mists let through little light. He was calmer now, his instincts had never let him astray. Not yet. He was walking for hours, trying to find his bearing. It was a barren land, wherever he had landed. He could not grasp the fact that this was apparently miles beneath the Ascalonian Hills. Were these the bowels of Adelbern’s palace? That mad human. He was a Sorcerer King after all… What was this place.
Then… A light. A flicker of faded lighting could be seen through the dense fog. He quickened his pace. The light seemed brighter, and again his pace increased. He had newfound hope now as he rushed towards the light. As soon as he thought he had come close enough, the flicker dimmed, and he was alone again.
At that moment, and ethereal voice echoed his name to him. He spun around to identify the source of the sudden burst of sound. Nothing. Nothing could be discerned out of the vast grayness. He felt eyes stinging everywhere. Was he going mad? A second time his name was called. More clear now. A female voice, with a very commanding tone. He wasn’t used to that.
‘Where are you, you insolent cur!’
The voice originated from behind him. As he spun around, his eyes where met with an intense burst of pure white light. It burned him. He tried to shield his eyes, but the fiery pulses penetrated into his skull. His roars turned to screams as he felt his eyesight diminish. His pupils burned and he fell to his knees. The intense heat eminating from the still unknown source was boiling his armor. He threw off his pauldrons and clawplates. His fur singed causing a sulfuric smell to rise.
‘The creature is cleansed’, the voice resounded within is mind.
A wind slight wind blew, and he was alone again.
