The crackle of power on his breath, the way he strode. Every fiber of every part of his being seemed to scream out to them to stay away. Yet there were peaceful creatures that followed him as always even though he stank of the abyss. Stank of the void. A soft shimmering light permeated him always and it wasn’t by choice.
But a different kind of fear gripped the creatures behind him as he left the jungle, only to see a massive pit of bones in front of him. Miles deep if he had to guess and stacked what felt like just as high. His eyes took in the volume of the stink. His brows furrowed slowly and his spear butt set against the last of the dirt. It was a staggering amount of death needed for these bones and a staggering amount of power needed. It was something he never considered and there was something deep down morbidly curious about how this slaughter was commenced. Some of it needed to be false or perhaps many different dimensions had been pilfered at some point to get all of them.
What was strange is that he didn’t sense any mana or living beings in front of him, no souls at all which meant that they had departed from the realm already or were elsewhere. He’d slowly step onto the bones and find himself sink to his ankles at first and then all the way down to his knees before he stopped by simple weight alone. It’d be a frustrating trudge through this pit but there was nothing else he could do. He couldn’t fly with his own power yet and he was loathe to waste his abilities on something this simple. Maybe if he had become a little stronger he wouldn’t have to worry about it.
What felt like an hour quickly turned into two, then three. He could barely feel the amount of progress given with how distant the mountains looked. He already could feel where he needed to go which… was strange to him. His brows furrowed again and his eyes cast about; he could feel both echo and the vestige nearby. They had followed him it seemed; he couldn’t frown but there was concern on his features… Right until he felt a grip on his being. First on his arm, then on his waist. His head tilted down and he was gifted with the sight of a smattering of skeletal hands reaching up to try to drag him down further…
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