So even a Goddess could misunderstand the intentions of a mere wisp. Or perhaps Nera merely thought too much about such a simple question. Nevertheless, indirect as it was, it decided that a minor sovereign of a once insignificant aspect would indeed be small in stature as well. Dreamcatcher, was it? A blight upon a corrupt world, and the darkness that had taken over the purity of the divinity. In the unending night, they, remnants of a forgotten era, were to relight the dying ember of the sun, bringing back the daylight in order to scour away the black plague that had ran rampant.

A Great Journey, truly. It felt it, even in this whimsical, ethereal form. Not just the assurance that accompanied ‘purpose’, but a jolt of energy invigorating its entire form. It could understand now, the impatience of one of the other wisps, its desire to explore and do something. Purpose provided an outlet for the aggression that clung stubbornly in its mind, turning energy into action. And this time, when the pagan Goddess strode off, the wisp kept pace, trailing just two steps behind her.

They were lead to a staircase, ghostly steps leading to an abyss that called to it. Fathomless, it offered yet another challenge to the wisp, one that involved both holding its gaze and yet resisting its grasp. There was fear once more, that whiteness filling its mindscape with blank space, but it was nothing compared to the heaviness of the Dreamreaper. So the wisp gazed on, staring down the gate to the blighted world, imagining the innumerable horrors that laid past the veil.

It twitched at the thought.

And it twitched once more as the goddess branded it as her own, a black claw digging into the cavities of its essence. Ah, how wonderful. A touch of agony that finally affirmed its sense of pain, its sense of [i]life[/i]. The wisp trembled, flickered, mind trembling both at the agony of death, a foreign power invading its own body, and at the joy of life, the torturous sequence lighting up the millions of nerves that it didn’t even realize it had. The quicksilver of purpose was insignificant compared to the high that corporeality gave, ten thousand bolts streaking through his vision as ruined flesh wove upon white bones, ethereality tore apart. It felt it once more, the imprints of a lost past slowly filling up, a mold filled with a different, yet similar material.

The half-formed fleshbag tumbled over upon the steps of the staircase, spasming horribly as a kaleidoscope of half-thoughts and once-dreams blossomed in its mind. Purple hearts harvested. Processions of double-clowns. Past-stones oven-cooked. Wet flames against the ears. Twin moons rotating down the rainbow. It spun spun spun spun spun and bodies filled up every inch, squirming squirming squirming squirming. And the passages that didn’t close, grinding wombs into dust. Elbow deep in grease and blood, cracking bones in the black mud, until it…

A kindly face nudged his own, a salty wetness as she spoke his name.

A loving smile forced him to reciprocate, a plum aroma as she spoke his name.

A violent grasp pulled him out, crimson violence as she spoke his name.

A hesitant touch pulled him in, scarlet ignorance as she spoke his name.

Bring it back. Hold it in his hands again. The ether, the past, the regrets, everything that he once was, he reached for again, his hands grasping at the ephemeral transience that still slipped so easily from his fingers. Like granules of sand, the meaning escaped him, leaving only incomprehensible images. Incomprehensible images and a name all too short and all too long. The nameless faceless that tore at his heart with such yearning, they all called him that one thing.

And so, it was not for the Goddess that had conscripted him, but for those more lost than himself, that he crawled up, legs shaky but eyes firm.

[b]“Aiv.”[/b]

Many titles must have accompanied that name before, but whatever past exploits he may have sought before were meaningless in the face of his current directive.

A fight to save the world. A fight to regain the past.

A fight to reclaim [i]their[/i] names.

He clenched his fist and bared his teeth, both a smile and a grimace.

[b]“Are we to save their souls unarmed and unclothed? Or have you prepared such things during your eternity of patience, Nera?”[/b]