@Kiri de Kismet ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sensation of falling would never come to an end, Gregori was trapped in what seemed to be an endless void – there was no light, no sound, and nothing but that singular sensation. How had it come to this? There was nothing for his mind to do but drift in a sort of perpetual dream, or rather a nightmare. Nothing could rid his mind of those incoherent flashes of half-remembered visions; smoke, fire, blood – the screaming and the dying and those already dead, and the pungent stench of charred flesh.
And somewhere...somewhere...
Daddy?There was a flash and an explosive sound as he broke through the barrier between the spirit and the physical. He looked like a falling star – blazing a path across the night sky before impacting with the force of a plummeting meteor, causing a shockwave that would be felt faintly even a few miles away. There in the very center of the overgrown ruins of a town he once protected, in the very spot he once held his silent vigil, Gregori opened his eyes,
truly opened his eyes, for the first time.
After falling for so long laying still was disorienting, but that was not the only thing confusing, for he did not recognize this place. Or maybe he did? It was so hard to tell, there was a familiarity about it, and yet it was certainly not the same as he couldn't quite remember it. Then again, if he couldn't remember it maybe it was the same and he simply didn't know it.
This was all too confusing. This was wrong. He was supposed to be falling in the void, why was he here?
Sitting up took an effort, but he somehow managed it, looking around slowly to try to get some grasp of the situation. Next to him was a weapon, it seemed to be a sheathed sword. He thought he recognized it. As his fingers reached out and grasped the hilt he gasped softly, closing his eyes. No, he was sure he knew this sword, and yet he didn't know it. It had looked different the last time he saw it.
Fury.Yes, that was it. This weapon belonged to him, and it was called Fury. He could remember that.
With one hand keeping a death grip on the sword, he used the other to move over his own body, somewhat confused. A man, yes, and everything seemed to be intact. The impact had not shattered his bones as he thought it probably should have. That only brought another observation – he was lacking in any adornment. Why was he not wearing any clothing? That seemed illogical, but he couldn't remember owning any clothes, so maybe it made sense.
There were many strange sensations assaulting him; the feel of the dirt and rubble beneath him, his own hands moving across skin that actually felt something, the gentle breeze, the cool air, and this odd wrongness in his chest. Could this be pain? He had heard screams of pain, or thought he had, but could not remember ever himself knowing pain. Should he know pain? Gregori didn't think so.
Suddenly an overwhelming thought, a burning desire, overtook him. He wanted to go
home. Everything was wrong here and nothing made sense. Where was home? Gregori didn't even know, and if he didn't know where home was, then he certainly didn't know how to get there. So he sat there in birthplace, unmoving and unsure what it was he was meant to do.