In the early 17th century, the name Thorsbane was synonymous with brilliance. A scholar of rare intellect, a theologian of profound insight, and a historian with unmatched knowledge of the past, he was a man whose wisdom reshaped the Kingdom of Veloria. His order—The Sanctum of the Mind—elevated the kingdom from one of humble origins to an empire of wealth and prosperity. Agriculture flourished under his guidance, resources were abundant, and the people thrived through his innovations in the crafting of metals and rare stones. It was Thorsbane who first discovered how to shape darkstone into structures that defied both gravity and logic, and he was the mastermind behind Astral Engines, strange machines that roamed the land like living creatures that had a mind of their own.
But beneath this vast intellect, Thorsbane harbored a singular, terrifying fear of death. The more he learned about the workings of the world, the more he feared the inevitable end that awaited him. And so, it became that, driven by the desire to transcend mortality, he sought the answer to a question that gnawed at his soul.
What happens after death?
world History book:
Thirst for Eternity: A Voidwalker's Curse, Volume 1, Verses 3-16
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[ Isabella pov ]
The darkness was infinite—an all-consuming void that seemed to stretch beyond the limits of her perception. It lacked shape, meaning, or any sense of direction, curling and twisting around her like a living thing, suffocating and oppressive to all of her senses. Every inch of it seemed to pulse with a strange, unnatural presence, as though it were aware of her, watching her.
For a moment, the air itself seemed to solidify, squeezing around her chest and arms like a vice. She strained against the invisible force, her lungs burning as though she were drowning. Panic surged in her chest, and she clawed at the formless sky above her, her talons slicing through the unseen barrier squeezing her. A sickening rip filled her ears, like tearing wet fabric laced with static. Her claws dragged through something dense yet pliable, the texture alien and unnatural, yielding with a strange resistance before parting under her strength.
A guttural scream erupted all around her, vibrating through her bones and shaking the air around her. The unseen force recoiled violently, leaving her gasping for breath. Her fingers tingled where they had connected, the sensation a mix of oily slickness and biting cold. Whatever it was, it wasn't entirely immaterial — and it wasn't pleased.
Something in her senses told her that.
The sensation of cold oil clinging to her claws intensified, the residue from the barrier she'd torn through writhing as if alive. It began to seep into her skin, spreading like thin ice through her veins, creeping up her arm and winding its way to her mind.
An intrusive thought surged through her mind, driving her to open her mouth wide as if some primal urge had taken over. Without thinking, she snapped at the nearest thing that came within her reach, her teeth sinking into it with a sharp chomp. A wave of intense, unexpected flavor flooded her senses, overwhelming her in an instant.
The taste was raw, unfamiliar, and unsettling. Her mind recoiled, but her body seemed to crave more. The sensation of the object between her teeth pulsed, almost as if it were alive, sending a satisfying shiver down her spine.
She couldn't resist. The urge surged once more, stronger than before. Her teeth sank into the object again, this time with a savage hunger, urgency driving her as she tore into it. The flavor was richer, more intense then it had been.
The distant howl of pain that echoed everywhere didn't stop her, and she continued on chewing.
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[ Snik The goblin. ]
Today was a good day, at least for Snik. Chieftain Gob had joined the hunt, leading them to a big Twighorn. It was a mighty beast, with sharp horns and a thick hide, but Gob was stronger, faster—he always was. After Gob had his fill, tearing into the best bits of the meat with his big claws and teeth, the rest of the tribe jumped in like ravenous wolves, ripping apart the carcass.
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Snik, being low in the tribe, didn’t get much, just the scraps others didn’t want. But Snik didn’t care. Salted meat’s still meat. And if it didn’t taste good, well, it filled the belly. Besides, it wasn’t about the food anyway. Today, Snik had a full belly, and that was enough for him.
Scurrying away to the back of the cave, past the larger goblins who lounged around the fire, and through a narrow passageway that only someone small like him could fit through. The air grew cooler as he went deeper, and the flickering light from the fire faded into the background. The passage opened into a little nook, hidden from view by some rocks and thick vines.
Here, it was quieter—almost peaceful. The ground was soft, covered in moss and dried leaves, and a few stray stones made a little seat for Snik. He settled down, curling his legs beneath him, and pulled out a small bundle wrapped in old cloth that he had hidden away so that sneaky stupid goblins could not get it. Inside, there were a few things he kept to himself.
A scrap of shiny rock he had found by the river, a small bone that he liked to chew on when he was alone, and a few dried herbs that smelled faintly of River.
Being the weakest of the tribe, Snik knew his worth. If the food ran out, he'd be the first to go. It was something that bothered him for a while, but it doesn’t bother him much anymore. He had his place, even if it was the lowest one.
He looked down at his greatest collection, his pride. Nestled carefully in a hollow scooped out of the mossy ground was a blue stone. It shimmered faintly even in the dim light of his nook, its surface smooth like polished glass but alive with veins of shifting light. Swirls of deep cobalt twisted into streaks of bright azure and icy white, as though a piece of the sky itself had been trapped within it. It was warm to the touch, a gentle hum vibrating through his fingers whenever he held it.
The stone wasn’t just pretty; it was special. Snik didn’t know exactly what it did, but he knew it was special. He had seen the adventurer who carried it once. The stupid human had worn the stone on a chain around their neck, and it had glowed even brighter then, casting its strange light over the dark forest as they passed through.
He hadn’t planned to steal it. He wasn’t brave enough to face someone like that. But when the adventurer had fallen into one of the tribe’s traps, Snik had been the only one bold (or foolish) enough to get close. The others were too busy looting whatever weapons and supplies they could to notice when he slipped the glowing stone from the corpse’s neck and tucked it deep into his ragged cloak.
It had been risky, but it was worth it. None of the others had seen, and none of them would ever know.
Scuttling deeper into his nook, he crouched low to inspect the small hollow where his treasure was hidden away. He reached out tentatively, his bony fingers brushing against the soft moss that lined the space. The blue stone glimmered faintly in the dim light, its swirls of cobalt and azure seemingly shifting as if alive.
Hesitating, he paused, a strange sense of unease prickling the back of his neck. He glanced over his shoulder towards the narrow entrance to his hiding spot, but all was still. Just the muffled echoes of the tribe's revelry and the soft crackle of the flames reached him. He exhaled slowly, shaking off the feeling.
Turning back to the hole, Snik leaned in closer, his long, pointed ears twitching as he tried to detect anything unusual. The stone was warm, almost inviting, its faint hum vibrating through the air. He lowered himself further, balancing on his elbows as he peered at it. For a moment, he simply stared, enthralled by the strange patterns on the stone.
“Still here, pretty stone,” he murmured to himself, his voice soft and reverent. “Snik keep you safe, yes.”
He carefully extended his hand, hesitating as his fingers hovered over the stone. The warmth radiating from it was soothing. With a gentle motion, he curled his fingers around it, lifting it from the hole.
The instant he touched it, the hum grew louder, resonating through his bones. Snik flinched, a gasp escaping his lips. He pulled back, clutching the stone tightly to his chest as he scrambled into a crouch. The moss-covered hollow seemed darker now, as if the light of the stone had stolen away what little brightness the nook once had.
Snik stared at the glowing gem, his thin chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. Something was different about the stone. It felt... heavier, and a little hotter.
Before he could dwell on the thought, a faint rustling sound reached his ears. It came from the direction of the passage, too faint for most to notice but sharp enough to make Snik freeze. His grip on the stone tightened as he slowly turned toward the sound, his wide eyes searching the spot.
He lowered himself further, coiling protectively around the stone. With deliberate, fluid movements, he crept toward the dense grass. As he disappeared into the undergrowth, his green skin blended seamlessly with the lush foliage, rendering him nearly invisible.
He waited.
And waited, almost for an entire minute before coming to the conclusion that there was no one there.
“Stupid goblin” he berated himself.
He tried to move upward, only to realize his mistake as his claws effortlessly dug into the stone. “No, no, no,” he whispered, his voice trembling. He tried to pull his hands away, but the stone held him fast, its surface clinging to his claws with an unnatural grip. The glowing veins of cobalt and azure within the gem began to shift, spiraling outward like a living thing awakening to his presence.
He desperately tried to pry it off, but the moment he applied pressure to the stone crumbled into dust in his hands. “NO!” he cried, his voice breaking with anguish.
The air rippled around him as glowing tendrils erupted from the ground. They coiled tightly around his ankles, yanking him into place with an unyielding grip. Before he could react, two more tendrils lashed out, seizing his arms and forcing him down onto the cold stone of the earth. His face slammed into the dirt, the bitter taste of grass and dirt filling his mouth as he struggled in vain against their relentless hold.
“No...” he managed to whisper, his voice barely a tremor as something struck his head. His vision blurred, the world around him trembling as if caught in a violent storm. He forced his gaze upward just enough to catch fleeting glimpses of crackling purple flames swirling in the air. A sharp sting pierced the back of his neck, sealing his fate as his legs gave way. Just before the darkness claimed him entirely, he saw a faint purple light drifting toward him.
A low, soft whisper, almost akin to a cry, sounded out in the distance signaling his death as his eyes went deathly cold.
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[ Isabella ]
"AGHHHHHHHH!" she screamed, collapsing to the ground as an overwhelming wave of pain surged through her new body. Her vision swam, blurring in and out of focus as her fingers dug desperately into her skin, raking at it with such force that blood welled up beneath her nails.
Memories that were not her own surged into her mind.
They were vivid, disorienting fragments of sights, sounds, and emotions that felt alien yet intimate, as if someone else’s life had been forcibly sewn into the very fabric of her being.
End.