[his touch seems to warm the air of the vines - even without a touch of astral energy, it seems to react to him. it's subtle, as he peers down the hallway, just slightly brighter closer to him. somewhere deeper, in darkness, there is-- familiarity. a breath of life, of hope, that stirs something else.
that shadow doesn't stop moving, nor does it turn toward Dohalim. as he approaches, he'll hear more whispers - what do I do? I can't think. It hurts- and the occasional choked sob. following it, the shadow is not at all unlike ghost lights, leading him down a path at the back of the initial room. it's clearer now, long hair flowing behind with every swift movement, and its narrative slowly shifts and changes.
the air of remorse and regret remains, and sorrow continues to feature, but the shadow becomes... heavy. distorted. its murmurs continue, favouring on narratives of what do I do and I can't and I'm sorry, sometimes appearing completely immobile, seated in an ancient, half-cracked chair or curled on a sill looking into other empty rooms.
perhaps the most important thing, though, is that it continues to move forward. dark rooms become brighter as Dohalim continues, vines lighting up at the sensation of his presence. it's easier to tell that he is the catalyst now, and the lights shift from soft blues and greens to an all-too-familiar golden hue. plants give way to stones, symbols neither Renan nor Dahnan carved into their surfaces. one more long hallway, and the shadow - spectre, whatever it truly is, pauses at the door to a purely black room. this time it looks back, all soft features and sharp eyes full of regret and guilt. it doesn't wait for him to approach any more than any other time, disappearing with a shuddering breath that seems to ghost across the Renan's face.
I'm sorry. I never wanted this for you. Please, --that side-- me... Thank you. Goodbye.
that Goodbye is a harshly breathed whisper, and behind him, all the light just... dims. what's ahead of him still glimmers brightly, pleading for him to continue on, though the room beyond remains dark past the doorway. the path he'd come from has hardly disappeared, but it's clearly no longer leading him forward - so here and now, this is all his choice.]
no subject
that shadow doesn't stop moving, nor does it turn toward Dohalim. as he approaches, he'll hear more whispers - what do I do? I can't think. It hurts- and the occasional choked sob. following it, the shadow is not at all unlike ghost lights, leading him down a path at the back of the initial room. it's clearer now, long hair flowing behind with every swift movement, and its narrative slowly shifts and changes.
the air of remorse and regret remains, and sorrow continues to feature, but the shadow becomes... heavy. distorted. its murmurs continue, favouring on narratives of what do I do and I can't and I'm sorry, sometimes appearing completely immobile, seated in an ancient, half-cracked chair or curled on a sill looking into other empty rooms.
perhaps the most important thing, though, is that it continues to move forward. dark rooms become brighter as Dohalim continues, vines lighting up at the sensation of his presence. it's easier to tell that he is the catalyst now, and the lights shift from soft blues and greens to an all-too-familiar golden hue. plants give way to stones, symbols neither Renan nor Dahnan carved into their surfaces. one more long hallway, and the shadow - spectre, whatever it truly is, pauses at the door to a purely black room. this time it looks back, all soft features and sharp eyes full of regret and guilt. it doesn't wait for him to approach any more than any other time, disappearing with a shuddering breath that seems to ghost across the Renan's face.
I'm sorry. I never wanted this for you. Please, --that side-- me... Thank you. Goodbye.
that Goodbye is a harshly breathed whisper, and behind him, all the light just... dims. what's ahead of him still glimmers brightly, pleading for him to continue on, though the room beyond remains dark past the doorway. the path he'd come from has hardly disappeared, but it's clearly no longer leading him forward - so here and now, this is all his choice.]