[b][center]Titum, Southern Cimbria[/center][/b]


Beads of sweat had formed on Calren's face, soaking his pillow as he twisted and turned. Beneath their lids, his eyes danced, trying to make sense of what they could not see. His breaths came uneven, jittery, and he clawed at his sheets, unconciously flinging them from the bed.

He was falling. As if from a great height, Calren saw the sky, smouldering with towers of black smoke. Below, a red-orange glow that burned at his vision. It should have been agonizing, yet there was no pain. Just a warm embrace as he sunk into the pool, like the arms of a lover. 

Down he went, his eyes blurred by the liquid glow. He couldn't breathe, but his lungs didn't grow restless, and his mind grew ever calm. Calren didn't feel the need to do anything, he felt liberated. 

The magma gurgled, and he felt the muscles around he ears strain to catch the origin of the disturbence. There was another gurgle, an bubbles rose. Soon more bubbles formed, each sound causing Calren's ears to strain, until he heard words behind each gurgle and pop.

"[b]Listen.[/b]" the bodiless sound commanded.

The words knocked Calren out of his stupor, and he opened his eyes, turning about to locate the source of their speaker. There was no one, just a hazy, orange void that permeated every fiber of his body. He waved his arms through the void feeling the viscous substance flow over his skin, as if he was swimming in a container of honey.

"Who- who's there?" he stammered, words a barely-audible whisper.

The liquid belched, "[b]You know me.[/b]" a stream of bubbles flew over Calren, bursting against him, "[b]But what is your name?[/b]"

The myrr recoiled as the magma sent him drifting backwards, and he kicked through the muck to remain upright. As far as he could tell, however, there was no up nor down in this place.

"My name. My name is Calren Huss," he replied, with less timidity than before. The magma was starting to feel less alien, less claustrophobic. Instead, he could swear he was starting to feel empowered.

The magma seemed to spin him slowly, as if sizing him up. More bubbles broke, "[b]Yes, Calren Huss.[/b]"

There was a pause, and then the magma erupted with a sea of bubbles, the popping sending the alien voice in all directions, "[b]Calren Huss, I find you a worthy being. I have a task for you, just for you.[/b]"

The voice was assertive, heavy, but never bordered on intimidating. Where he first felt shock, Calren found a kind of solace in the mouthless speech. His body ceased squirming, and he floated comfortably in the mire. 

"I- I understand. What would you ask of me?" He was not himself certain why his own reply was so agreeable, so eager to serve. But it felt right.

"[b]I wish for you to fetch my eye, as it has fallen into the hands of a criminal,[/b]" the bubbles popped against his ears, almost as if attempting to lean in and emphasize the importance.

When the voice answered, Calren's eyes closed again. He saw a form, a humanoid. Its skin was adorned in impossibly precise patterns of scar tissue, and two smoldering, red eyes burned beneath its hood. Then, the vision imploded on itself, transforming into a spherical object. Its surface was dark, like clotted blood, but as it caught the light, it shone so violently that Calren held up his hands to his face. He sensed the image had passed, and untensed. As his eyes opened, he found himself floating above a forest, bubbles floating around him. As if he had been here before, he already knew exactly where he was, and looking down he saw the hooded figure running, the eye swinging around her neck.

"[b]You know your task and what you seek,[/b]" the bubbles gurgled as the scene tinted orange the feel of the magma returned, "[b]Go forth![/b]"

Before Calren could speak another word, he felt his body being launched upwards, headfirst. Bubbles stormed around him, and for a moment, he felt panic. He wanted to stay, to bathe in the comfort of the mire for the rest of his years. But his body did not stop, and as he felt the void grow thinner, he thrashed and kicked, trying to let out a cry, but the stuff flooded his lungs and he could not speak. Then, he broke the surface and gave a wanton gasp for air.

He awoke. His knuckles were white, fingers clutching his bedsheets so tightly, his nails dug into his palms. Calren heaved, slowly acclimating himself back to reality, to his room. The moon was retreating from his window, and he could hear the morning birds begin their song. Then, he remembered what he had seen, and threw himself from the bed with newfound determination.