Eve found herself swaying and bobbing. She opens her eyes to see that the world is a blur. Aside from the clear blue skies, and the scorching heat, she can only see a man up-close. She understands immediately that she is being carried by this man.
The man stares forward. A singular horn grows from his green mop of a hair. One of his eyes is grey and cloudy, while the other is a steel grey. There is a sunburst symbol on his forehead similar to that of Elastra, but while Elastra's is gold and shining, his was dark green, and rusted. Various vines symbols fall out and drapes his face atop his forehead. Also, similar to Elastra's, his ears are long and tapered. She can barely hear some muttering from the man.
"Journey"
"Creation of the spirits"
"Hidden"
"Fate will bring you back"
"Back to Eccam..."
"Eccam"
"Eccam"
The words keep echoing in her head. For a moment, the world went black and Eve was left stumbling in the dark. That's when the face of another elven woman enters her view. This one blurry, unable to give Eve any detail.
"You finally came to me, my child" the elven woman states, Eve knowing this through her mouth moving. That's when Eve feels herself falling, and jerking. She is pulled back into the waking world, where she found herself on an uncomfortable leader bed on the floor, groans of pain, and coughing occasionally breaking the silence in her surrounding.
"Morning, sweetie" a voice is heard from afar. A bespectacled mage enters into Eve's view. "Nightmare?" she asks. The mage was wearing a simple rough course linen robe that covers her until her knees. She carries a heavy wooden staff as she approaches Eve. Then, she kneels down and gently inspects Eve.
"What a miracle... Seems like there isn't a trace left of the possession. I have never such cases before..." she mutters to herself before addressing Eve, "Eve. How are you feeling? Is there any whispering you hear anywhere? Even those you don't understand?". Eve shakes her head no, to which the mage nods to.
Eve contemplated on telling the kind lady about her dream but before she could decide, a male man, also clad in rough-spun linen robe enters the area. "Ma'am. A crusader requires urgent attention. He wasn't aware he got hit by the cultists' poison," he stated.
The kind lady nodded quickly looking at Eve and saying, "Seems like there's no issue with you so, you're free to go,". Eve nodded before slowly getting up, as the pair exited out of the section of the tent into another, separated by the thin canvas wall.
Eve takes a moment to take a look at the makeshift hospital before she exits. There were a lot more people injured here than she remembered during the battle with the cultist members. There were those with missing body parts, old bandage clinging onto their frail bodies. The few medical staffs within the tent work quickly, still with care for each patient, but it is clear they are unable to attend fully to all their injuries, only able to cater to the most grievous ones.
Trying to find the exit of the tent, she passes a section marked with a yellow flag at the entrance where the members are grievously mourning their injuries. Some people were coughing erratically, some were hissing, trying to hold in their pain as best as they can. There's a group of people that were tired, sweat pouring from their forehead. It is clear that they are in pain but, their tiredness allows them to forget about their pain. A few mages were attending to them, changing their bandages, and providing some hers as medication
Passing through an area marked with red flags, there were a lot more mages attending to the people inside. It seems very clear that the people within this section were at risk of death. Commands fly through the sections as the mages continuously performed rituals to assist the injured. Unlike in the section before, the people here did not cry out in pain, instead they were silently mourning, and heaving heaving through their mouths.
Eve observes as one mages chants out to the spirit of 'Asclepius', as she pours water onto a wound, the grievous wound seeming closing onto itself and its blackness and puss that surround the injuries gone. She decided she had enough and head into the next area, marked off with a black flag.
Here, she notices the patients were in a lot more grievous state. Like in the red section before, there were less mourning on the behalf of the patients as they were so close to death that they had no energy to cry out in pain. However, she notices that they were a lot less patients and the mages here did not seem all that interested in taking care of the patients.
Instead, she observes as a particular mage, calls out to the spirit of Mundus to forgive the transgression of the patient, requesting Mundus to take him into his arms. Something that Eve was curious about. She keeps observing the ritual as the patient continue to request 'Asclepius' to reduce his pain in his final moments, to give him bliss and happiness... Then, she notices that man's breathing begin to slow before it finally stop.
Most of the patients here are breathing very slowly, Eve observes. Perhaps, it is of innocence, or perhaps it is of naivety, but the child realizes not that the people are those at their last straws. People that have lost hope of the living, and efforts are best spent not to save them rather, on ensuring that they spend the last remainder of them in happiness.
Eve continues to note that mages are silently crying as they write on papers, the last words of the patients before they fall back and the light fades from their eyes. Then, as she heads to the exit of the tent, she could've sworn she'd seen something near the patients. She stares back at the patients, and she sees a silhouette of the person staring above them, looking back at themselves, sorrow deep in their eyes.
Near the moments of one's death where the anchor of the spirit is weakened, the spirit grows stronger. Within the palace of death, the tent where many goes to die, the veil between the spirit realm, and the world weakens. Eve notices the ghostly outline staring back at him before quickly shifting her focus to look elsewhere. She did not understand death, but she did understand whatever this thing was, it was an unnerving existence.
Then, she sees the patients floating upwards while pointing at her, desperately trying to reach her. She takes a deep breath before gazing back at the spirit. That's when it hits her.
The scenery of a farm atop a hill.
The act and motion of cutting through plants, and planting seeds.
The hug from a child, and a loving mother.
A note from a king, requesting his service. The proud that he has to be chosen. Parading the notes in a tavern, stein, and dices in hand.
A tall, green-skinned man staring me down as an arrow stabs me right in the face.
Happiness, sorrow, anger, love... Emotions float within her belly as the soul slowly glimmers out of her eyes.
"Remember me..." a pleading voice called out to her.
Then, a pull, followed by many others. A sensation arising from the many patients inside the tent. She felt like they were calling to her. Whispers begin to form in her ears, murmurs, and pleas that go unanswered.
"Save me..."
"That bastard still owe me. I can't die yet!"
"My child, my family... They need me,"
"Lord, if this be my time. I'm glad to have served for you,"
Then, she takes a look around. The mages motioning for the time, taking the tags upon his neck, and the letters that she wrote in a small envelope. They hurried out of the tent, along with Eve. Was this a normal occurrence for mages? So normal that none of them mention anything? She stares back into the tent and saw them wrapping the body up.
She takes a moment outside of the tent. The feeling, the pull from the people inside seem to subside. The whispers regresses, silence came back, forming a void in her core. She remembers now. All these moments within her life were spent in the presence of these voices. However, after the vow with the lady, the voices and whispers subsided. In a sense, she felt reminiscent of them, a sense of nostalgic almost hit her but she wouldn't give anything up for the silence she felt now.
She has a thousand questions in her brain, and not a single sense of direction to answer them, nor on where to this in this mysterious camp.
What are these voices?
How do other people live with them?
Can other people even hear them?
What did that lady do to stop the voices?
And how come she heard the voices return within that tent?
Within the silence that now form within her soul, her ears pick up on something. Of a voice loud and clear, coming from the center of the camp. With nowhere else to go, and no clue to lead to guide her to her fate within this camp, she heads towards the direction of the voice.