Ashes to Ashes - 3

Day after day, the sun would rise and fall. Yet she would see none of it. Small, subtle things started to dawn on her. Why were there no cracks in the stone? How was it that no matter how many times she forced herself to her feet, there was no door?

Clearly, she had to have been eating, and not knowing it. Or else, how was she still alive? She couldn't be sure of the days, somehow her perception of time had faded along with most everything else. But she knew she had been gone a long time, somewhere between weeks, and years. The thought made her shudder.

Perhaps there was no ceiling, but she couldn't see. Her eyes had never adjusted to the dank, dark of the circular prison she found herself in. She would slide her shoulder along the perimeter until it became raw, every step seemed to change the depth of the circle. It was surely a trick of her mind, but the more she paced, the more she felt that either, the circle was getting larger or changing shape. Maybe smaller?

None of that made a lick of sense, but nothing was bound to change. She was trapped, and it seemed as if she would be that way, for a very, very long time. Sleeping made the time pass quicker, but surely that wasn't helping anything. She wasn't even sure she was asleep half the time, it looked the same whether or not she was awake, or dreaming. Only subtle changes in her thoughts, and moods made her think otherwise.

If only they made sense.

Dreams flooded her cold, jewelry laden ears again, seeping into her psyche, she had that quaking fear knotting in her stomach as she felt her head hit the floor.

Slowly though, in her dream state she sat up, arms restless against the bindings on her wrists, shockingly though. She could raise them, the bindings were there, but only in her mind. She rubbed the wound that threatened to bleed down her face as she looked around.

The room, as usual was dark, and she could feel the pain of hunger setting in. She wondered why it was always her dreams that brought her the pain, and the actual feeling of emptiness.

But quickly she was distracted, warmth filled her veins abruptly, and in a way she could hardly explain. Light – she saw it. Holy light was flowing out of her blood-tipped fingers, washing over her, and closing the wound on her head. She was so sure she was dreaming, as it then coursed into the room, creating a pillar of hostile, angry holy fire.

Such a thing should have illuminated the corners of the chamber, but still the room was dark, though it occurred to her now. It had a colored tinge to it, that seemed to fluctuate like the skies of Netherstorm..

Netherstorm – what was that? She mused over this for a few moments, hazel eyes bewitched by the light she saw. Suddenly though, her attention was diverted, a large arcanite axe slid through the pillar of holy fire in a feral manner, dissipating it, and causing a guttural grunt to emit from the darkness.

Heavy steps were heard, stepping toward her, then a large gauntlet, she could see his face. The fel-creature had tried to save her from it, that warm comforting feeling returned, she wanted to see this demon. She wanted it to speak.

A strange sensation of knowledge rushed over her – she knew he was mute. Why would she know such a thing? Rather, -why- would she strive for comfort from such a hellish being?

As quickly as It had lifted her up, the dream started to quake, and violently the demon was gone. Dropping her back onto the floor and her eyes fluttered open in surprise– or were they open the whole time?

Despite that, she no longer felt hungry, and she no longer felt pain.