Why I Want to Go - Dying Light 1.5
By: Anna "Hedda" Rufus
We strayed too far into dreams and nightmares and crossed paths with the Painter—a fiend who carved his schemes into our very souls and tore pieces from us without a shred of mercy. I fled through crowds calling my name, drenched in blood and mire, stumbling and shattered until I found myself in safe arms once more. Most folk would keep well away after surviving such horrors. But I’ve never been like most folk.
And yet… I found myself here—wherever ‘here’ may be. I was safely resting in Shadowdragon last I remember. I thought myself to be alone, but the shadows seemed to move. The colors look too bright, the air too still, as if the world was holding its breath.
So I steady myself. I breathe. And I follow the pull in my chest, the one whispering that somewhere beyond this strange stillness lies a gathering of souls like mine: wanderers, dreamers, fighters, fools. People who might help me piece together the path home… or at least remind me I’m not alone in the dark.
I should have learned my lesson the last time. Fear presses tight around my ribs, but curiosity cuts sharper still. If there is even the faintest chance to claw my way back to my own world, I’ll seize it. No matter what trial this nightmare sets before me now.
Why do I want to go? The choice is not mine or any of the comrades who are forced into the Dying light. Though I will get us out.
Squire Whan-Hedda con Atlantis of Blackwood.
