Goburi knew she was dead. She couldn't tell anyone how she knew she was dead, part of that was because she had no lungs or mouth and she had no one to tell anyway, but the larger issue was there was no way to prove to herself she was dead, she just knew it. She could feel her spirit in a bubble around her, and nothing else. This feeling was all she needed, to know she was dead, because if she was alive the feeling would have terrified her. Somehow she was not scared. Maybe a little apathetic, but not scared
She had always thought death would be darker... or maybe brighter, but definitely not the pale yellow she sensed within her bubble. The color of her soul was a bit warmer than she thought it would be. All those decades locked away in the stone cell surrounded by machinery, the days a constant grind of stone on stone, sifting her willpower to a fine powder without letting up. Maybe there was some darker colors, just on the very edge of her soul. Now that she was focused on it there were lines of gray, specks of black and streaks of white bordering the pale yellow.
Goburi was also aware of sounds, rumbling and groaning at the edge of her senses. She would have to change the way she thought, the ripples in her bubble was her only sense now. The creaking was somehow comforting, it didn't sound at all like debtors coming to collect the life essence from her soul. Her mother had always told her stories of the debtors when Goburi couldn't be bothered to calculate interest.
The creaking reminded her of the lonely nights in the year when all production stopped for one dwarven holiday or another. Goburi would lie in her bed, the day’s work done, waiting for sleep. She would wind up the music box she had made, listening until the spring finally relaxed and it fell silent. On those lonely nights, without the hope for guests or the sound of travel in the hall, the nearly silent natural creaks and groans of the mountain filled her ears.
As she stretched her sense to the farthest it would go, she felt her soul move outwards. It wasn't much and it made her tired, but what else did she have to do? Thinking back she imagined her old workshop that had been her life. The smooth walls, the sharp corners, the tall shelves. She tried to imagine the mechanical parts, the workbench, the scrolls of secrets she was given and blueprints of secrets she had created... but those images slipped away even as she formed them.
She imagined the doorway to her old bedroom. The door itself refused to manifest, but the shape of her old room followed easily enough. The bed that was formed from the natural rock was still there, she couldn't quite make out the sheets, mattress, bookshelf, endtable or the table with it's two chairs. As she imagined her old room she sensed the taste of copper. She was very familiar with copper, easy to form, but sturdy enough to hold the shape. Most of her prototypes were formed from the metal
The taste of copper brought back memories of the magic lamp that was her most reliable friend. Sure she had made dwarven friends, they would joke about only being colleagues as they hurredly did whatever they stopped by to do. But she knew deep inside that they probably thought of her as a friend too. The visits from her friends weren't consistent though, they had lives and families outside their work, went on journeys, even had adventures.
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Goburi had no stories to tell, and no way to reach out to anyone outside her cell. Vsitors stopped by only when they decided to, or had to for one errand or another. So she had oftened turned to her lamp to keep her company.
Her old work lamp would sit above her shoulder while she worked, it would point out flaws for her to fix and reveal her successes for her master to admire. The lamp was always there for her, she would take it down and polish it to return the favor. She had named her lamp Gina, talking to her in the endless hours, asking advice and thanking her for brightening her day. She could picture it now with its pale yellow glow. Maybe that was why her soul was this color? Maybe the lamp was always some poor soul in limbo and she never knew it!
This revelation startled her as she pictured herself being stuck as a magic lamp for the rest of eternity. She could picture the copper forming around the gem that had trapped her soul, looking just like the enchanted crystal she knew all too well. The bars spiraled and twisted like spider stuck in a whirlpool, grasping the thin glass globe that encircled the floating enchanted crystal. The chain that held the lantern was fastened to the ceiling in the workroom she had just built in her mind, a simple hook at the end slipped through a ring at top of the lantern, preventing her glass prison from falling, never allowing her escape.
She started to panic, her mind racing, trying to find a way, how could she find out if she was a lamp? She got distracted when she realized she no longer had a mind. That led to the question of if she was a soul and souls had no mind, where were the images of her old room being held? Could souls daydream?
She was further distracted when she realized she didn't know much about death. She wasn't going to be reborn from the great forge like a dwarf would, living her second life as a much loved tool or piece of armor. All she remembered about Goblins is they joined with the Great Gleam as currents in the rivers of prosperity, unless they died with a negative balance and were reincarnated with a soul debt.
Goburi re-focused. She was not a newborn and she wasn't part of some cosmic force that dictated the transfer of wealth, she was perfectly fine as her old magic lamp, in her old unfurnished quarters in the mountain. The panic came back with that image, and then escalated as she realized souls shouldn't be able to panic. Somehow in remembering her past life, her reality had shifted to match it.
Goburi wanted to scream in terror, she could clearly see the doorway leading out of the bedroom and she dashed through it. The door that was always locked was no longer there. She tried to flee her prison, the empty doorway extended into an endless tunnel. She could feel the blood rushing in her veins as she panicked, roaring filling her ears. The rock moved away as she tried to picture what was outside her former world, but she never had seen it so she had no reference for what was beyond that doorway, the tunnel kept pushing out but never stopping. The colors in the rock shifted and changed as the roaring got louder and the shaking got worse, the cycle of panic working her into a blind frenzy.
Suddenly the rock fell away, she flew like an arrow through nothingness and suddenly her world ended. Turns out the world ending is a massive strain on the soul. Goburi passed out.
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When Goburi finally came to her senses, it took a while before she realized she was still Gina, her lantern in the old workroom. The furnishings were still missing except the stone and the copper lantern with it's glass globe holding her soul.
"I am Gina now! I have been reincarnated as a lantern!" Goburi knew the goblin that was imprisoned in the dwarven cell was dead. From now on she will have to be happy with her smaller cell, as a lamp named Gina.