Reincarnation (Bardic)

By: Anoshia Posted on: April 16, 2005

Immune from physical feelings, she could only sense the constant pull upon her soul as her mind began to drift from the mortal plane. Gazing out aloofly, her eyes wandered across a mangled corpse sprawled beneath her feet. As her stare fell upon the fallen creature's face, her mind reeled as she beheld her own twisted visage, caught in the final seconds of life.

Though still barely keeping a constant thread of thought, the soul remembered why she stood in ethereal now. Minutes ago, she had fervently prayed, beseeching the gods for a single gift. Flight. The bequest of wings. Plunging a dagger deep into her chest, she offered her life in attempt to receive anew. Her link to the living quickly fading, she turned in final effort to face the brooding flame that licked at the air in front of her.

While the heat of the flame was unknown to the being, she could still perceive the intensity of the burning entity that stood before her now, threatening to smolder her frail form. Drawing strength from the memory preserved in her spirit, she focused her mind intently on the image of the mighty Atavian. With on fluid motion, the ghost vanished into the fiery blaze.

Immediately, her mind staggered as a throbbing pulse infiltrated her thought. Though her physical demeanor was but a memory, her every notion brought about a suffering never known till now. She felt as if she was being twisted until her form could be pulled no longer. Alas, the suffering was just beginning. Her ghostly eyes gaped in terror as she watched her hands begin to solidify back into tissue. As her body began to once again shape into the physical, it became painfully evident that she was enclosed in burning flame and soon to be subject to the horrible feel of fire.

Just when the pain was so great that her life was surely quenched, she was overcome with an unbearable tumor growing in the centre of her back. Bogged down by the sensation, she fell to her knees. Clutching her head, she screamed as the skin on her back was torn apart by the large growth protruding from her back. Blood streamed forth from the gaping wound, and a sickly mass of ebon began to cleave out from the sore. Barely maintaining stability, her body bent back as the swelling grew. Her head hung, tears streaming out of her burning eyelids. In one final moment of sheer strain, her fingers tore at her hair as the tumor expanded out, revealing two blood-soaked wings.

Darkness befell her.

When the girl finally awoke from her deep sleep, she remembered little. Her skin remained clear of burn or bruise, and yet from her back she felt the tinge of pain. Reaching out a palm to touch the clotted scar tissue, her heart soared as a flick of plume graced her skin. Surely the Gods had found pleasure in her plea, and she now beheld the pair of ebon wings granted unto her. All memory of the resurrection had since left her mind, and yet a scar adorned her back; memory of the pain she once endured to receive her gift of flight.