[the being is nothing like Dohalim has ever seen before; for a person to have a tail and horns... but, strangely enough, it doesn't feel like an oddity. like this place, and his feelings for it, it's just as familiar, and it almost feels like he has a yearning to brush his fingers against them. to touch them, touch him again--
again?
he reads the inscription carved into the stone, surprised that he can even read it. but, like everything else here, he has to wonder what it all means, and why he was led here. there's an undeniable pull, as he edges closer to the barrier, wanting to be closer to the being. Dohalim doesn't speak again for a moment or two longer, hand coming up to press against the barrier, like before. he can feel a slight vibration of astral energy under his fingertips, different than what earth astral energy feels like, but alike all the same. perhaps it's the magic cast upon this place? this couldn't have been made naturally, of course. but who would have created this place, this... prison for the being behind the barrier?
"My apologies--" the very words from his dreams rings in his ears; he nearly pulls his hand back. the voice had been so clear, clearer than he'd heard in his slumber, so clear that it almost sounded like his voice. but how could he... nothing cataclysmic like that had ever happened in his lifetime, and while he'd made mistakes of his own, that... that he's never witnessed, he's sure.
Dohalim applies a little more pressure against the barrier, as if almost tempted to break it, to free him from his imprisonment. a name dances on his tongue, a name he has no recollection of, a name he wants to call out, but can't seem to articulate]
M--
[he can feel himself run on autopilot as a gentle force takes over, clouding his mind with half formed thoughts and vague memories, unfamiliar to himself. is he dreaming again? has this all been but a dream? but it feels so real.
a name finally slips from his lips, softly muttered, but with an unwavering certainty]
no subject
again?
he reads the inscription carved into the stone, surprised that he can even read it. but, like everything else here, he has to wonder what it all means, and why he was led here. there's an undeniable pull, as he edges closer to the barrier, wanting to be closer to the being. Dohalim doesn't speak again for a moment or two longer, hand coming up to press against the barrier, like before. he can feel a slight vibration of astral energy under his fingertips, different than what earth astral energy feels like, but alike all the same. perhaps it's the magic cast upon this place? this couldn't have been made naturally, of course. but who would have created this place, this... prison for the being behind the barrier?
"My apologies--" the very words from his dreams rings in his ears; he nearly pulls his hand back. the voice had been so clear, clearer than he'd heard in his slumber, so clear that it almost sounded like his voice. but how could he... nothing cataclysmic like that had ever happened in his lifetime, and while he'd made mistakes of his own, that... that he's never witnessed, he's sure.
Dohalim applies a little more pressure against the barrier, as if almost tempted to break it, to free him from his imprisonment. a name dances on his tongue, a name he has no recollection of, a name he wants to call out, but can't seem to articulate]
M--
[he can feel himself run on autopilot as a gentle force takes over, clouding his mind with half formed thoughts and vague memories, unfamiliar to himself. is he dreaming again? has this all been but a dream? but it feels so real.
a name finally slips from his lips, softly muttered, but with an unwavering certainty]
--Morax.