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Serpentine · Adventurer Joined: 29 Dec 2003 Posts: 94

The spirit continued its wait, as it had for hundreds of years, constantly hoping for an end to it. But what is it? the spirit wonders. Where am I? ...What am I? Who am I? These questions course through its foggy mind for the fifth time in as many minutes, or hours, or years, the spirit isn't exactly sure anymore. How long have I been here... Wherever here is... It was an aggravating game for the poor soul, constantly trying to remember itself, but it constantly turned up one big frustrating blank. The conversation repeated itself as it had in the past, hundreds of times before.

I should start with the basics... What am I? I am, I am... Human? What's a human again? They're so much like me, I think, but I am not one. I don't know anymore. Elf? What's an elf? Why do I remember that word too? Maybe I'm an elf? Or an, what are they called, orc? No, that feels wrong somewhere, but so do most things nowadays... Am I male or female? It's been so long since I've had a body to look at or a name to be called, to be referred to as 'He' or 'She' or as anything. Did I have a name? Yes, I had to have had a name. Or maybe I didn't, I can't remember that either. I don't remember much of anything anymore, only darkness and dampness and tiredness... And names, none of them mine, at least, I think... Marko and Jared, I put them together, why I don't know. Maybe they were related. Eliondra, how excited I was to work with... him? Her? I can't remember, but the name sounds female. And Alder. Alder Marenson. Yes, there's a name I remember. A name, a face, a hatred that will last until I'm finally free of this, nothing. Why do I hate him so badly that I would remember him over myself? I suppose I shouldn't dwell on it... Though... I don't know. How long ago was it that I died? I have to be dead, I think, no living creature I remember is like this. Not that I remember many living creatures at all. It must have been a while, I can't remember anything... I just keep... drifting away...

The spirit drifts off into its tired, repetitive thoughts once more, always the same questions, always the same answers, as it waits for something, anything, to happen to it...
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