Stranger in a Dark World

Chapter 1 : The First Fissure

 

Adar Malcatha was a young, inexperienced mage on the verge of failing his apprenticeship at the Yorlvard Magisterium. By the end of the year, he would have to demonstrate some proficiency in soul magic or be discarded. He knew how depraved some of the other students could be. He was a loner and a commoner. Without the Magisterium's protection, they would surely snatch him up to use in their own magical research. There were so many ways this could prove unhealthy; Adar banished all thoughts from his mind.

As he knew it, the basic premise of soul magic called for death to provide the raw essence, and the inner power of the mage to reshape the renewed life that sprung from it. Easy. From the Magisterium's stores, he procured a young slave girl named Ura. Adar rendered her docile, pliable by mind charms, with which he was proficient. With a soulless, glazed over demeanor, she stippred herself and laid upon a stone dias. Unceremoniously, Adar cut her throat and her lifeblood run in ribbons down her body. The red fluid pooled at either side of her hips and between her legs, staining the dais. Adar read the runic language of soul magic and there was a flash of pallid light. Then, darkness took him.

An indeterminate amount of time passes, and Adar finds his sight once more. He peers down at his own body. Damn! The girl wasn't enough. Adar had been attempting to use the girl's essence to create an air nymph. It would have greatly aided him in the 3rd year studies of nature magic. However, his fatal flaw was his ambition. Soul magic was the preferred study of necromancers precisely because the undead were half-filled vessels. They were easy to fuel. On the other hand, fae creatures were even hardier than real life. Adar realized what had happened. The spell abridged itself. It took a part of my soul to try to achieve completion. But what did the spell mutate into?

Some clues were gained when Adar's own body began to stir. His body shook its head, as if it were dazed and attempting to regain lucidity. "What the fuck just happened?" The being that was now Adar asked to itself.

A dreadful realization came upon Adar. The spell had become a consciousness transference. Some other being now inhabited his body. His only chance would be to get the creature to allow him access to his body to undo the transfer. His time was limited. Adar knew from his studies that, in his disembodied state, he would eventually wither away.

"Hey, you there!" Adar called out to his own image. It looked to him, and startled.

"I can't believe what I'm seeing. Did I inhale something funky?" It said.

"What is your name?" Countered Adar.

"Dan." Adar's body replied, out of reflex. "What what are you?"

"I am the ghost of the body you're inhabiting. If you let me, I can resume control of myself and you can go back to wherever it is you came from."

"You seriously want me to believe I'm talking to a ghost?"

"What so hard about that? The sacrifice I used to bring you is right over there." Adar pointed to the deceased girl on the dais. That was his last mistake.