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[Jode Bonewits]

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It was a beautiful evening, with a clear starlit sky and humid air gusting about, giving the sensations of springtime and merrymaking throughout the countryside and through a particular open balcony. The bed's blanket shifted, the candle or two blew out, and the wind followed up to a particular bookshelf. Or more to say, one particular book that contained a peculiar gem, a gem that held within a being that had not felt the whiff of air in what seemed like decades now.

Yet still it stirred.

For what stirred was a conscience being twisted within its prison then, as if a person were wrestling with themselves to sit upright in a bubble. For a bubble it was, so it seemed, a globe that held what was once a man, from the ever-shifting clouds of darkness that surrounded it. Wrestled as he did though, it was futile though. He had played his part in the world as he saw fit, and Balance would still be there. It would always be there.

The only freedom that could be found in such a sealed environment was in whatever dreams the being could fathom. Such dreams, at first, were nothing but pain and suffering as the ancient powers of Oblivion still churned within his body. Yes, even Oblivion itself was bound and safe from extinction. But gradually, these nightmares turned to dreams, and those dreams turned to visions. Visions that brought him to a dark temple, delivered through pain and destiny and only to be resurrected if but only to be used sacrificed in another's resurrection.

But what the vision did not tell what if this future was either coincidence, or a destiny. How far would it be until this happened? Where was this place? And even when he was not dreaming, why has his arm been pulsing again?

For the moment, all he had was the familiar sting in his arm again. But soon, perhaps, something would discover him and break the seal!...

...

...all he could do was wait.
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AKA: Dan