The horizon I’ve been looking at was once again shrouded – dark and dreary clouds forming, getting ready to once again head in my direction. I took a moment to stabilize myself, one breath in and another one out before finally looking down at my own hand. My fingers phasing in and out of existence as my reality was once again threatening to collapse. I closed my fist, focusing on the simple sensation of muscle tension. Doing a simple exercise like this to ground me always helps – and as if to prove my point the dematerializing fingers become fully tangible once more. Finally, I take a moment to school my expression into the stern gaze of a leader before turning around to face my remaining companion.
“Dark storm’s brewin’ again.” I’ve always been good at stating the obvious. A brief amused smirk appeared on her face. “Let me guess. Same deal as usual?” She asks and I nod in affirmation. “Yeah, plus an extra… a Torment.” I share the wonderful piece of information my senses picked up on. “Ahh, what a bother. I hate dealing with Torments.” she gripes while stretching her arms above her head. “How long do we have anyway?” I simply shake my head in response, before letting my attention wander.
Our camping spot is beautiful – verdant forests and fields stretch far into the distance, with snow covered mountains on the horizon serving as a natural barrier, keeping the horrors out of the Lands Inside. The closest mark of civilization is a town, some fifteen kilometers away from my position. The path to it is somewhat dangerous, involving going down the steep mossy mountain upon which the two of us are currently standing. I take a step closer, making sure to etch the sight to my memory to the best of my ability. “Come, the storm won’t wait. It’s better to face it on our terms than let it gather strength.” My companion reminds me after a few moments.
“Yeah. You’re right.”
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Some thirty minutes later we’re both below the mountain, moving in direction of the gathering storm. Both of us are making good time, using our respective magics to traverse the terrain at a rapid pace. I’m flicking between shadows – the shifts in perspective as the world distorts before my body emerges at my desired location forcing me to always stop for merely a breath to let my mind catch up before diving in the direction of my next destination. Meanwhile, my companion is keeping up with me – she’s hurtling through the air as if thrown by the force of gods themselves. Her body is enshrouded in a ball of flame leaving a scorched trail of flame and smoke in her wake. The light emitted by the fire serves me just fine, creating the harsh shadows I require for my skills to function.
The world around us is clearly suffering. Unnatural silence reigns whilst everything around us loses more and more color as we advance closer to the storm. At its very edge, I start to feel the choking pressure of the storm’s phenomena - the color is completely gone. I can no longer smell anything and neither does the wind blow in my hair. Everything feels stiff and lifeless. Out of the corner I see my companion approach me, her mouth moving as if to speak. She frowns when she realizes that her voice cannot be heard. Without knowing what she intended to communicate I give her an awkward smile, before motioning deeper into the storm. She nods at me and we once again set off – this time using our feet instead of our skills.
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A moment later I hear screaming at the volume of a whisper – as if it was nothing but an echo of the past, worming itself into my mind through my ears. I instinctively reach out to my magic wanting to feel its comforting sensation, only to find it missing.
“YOU ABSOLUTE MORON, HOW CAN YOU NOT UNDERSTAND THIS?! IT’S SO SIMPLE!”
I turn and check on my companion - her concerned face showing she heard it too. This is good enough confirmation for me to know that we’ve both entered the Torment. I focus on the image I burnt into my mind earlier, remembering the scent of grass on the mountaintop, the fresh air, the view. I focus on the familiar, using it to ward off the intrusive whispers and the feeling of weakness from not having access to my power.
“You’re not good enough. You’ll never be good enough.”
A different voice echoes while we march deeper into the storm. I feel my companion reach out to me and hold my hand. I take hers into mine, making sure to hold onto it tight, yet I don’t slow my pace.
“I wish you were never born, you were the worst thing that ever happened to me.”
I feel my body freeze as I lose concentration on the image I was holding in my mind. With a slap my companion brings me back to reality, and I hastily scramble to reassemble my mental image. Verdant trees, sprawling plains, snowy mountains, the scent… scent? What scent was there on the mountaintop? I let out a string of curses, even though I know they won’t be heard by anyone. Merely a breath without focus and my memory has already been scrambled by the Torment.
“We wouldn’t need to go through this EVERY GOD DAMN WEEK if you weren’t such a fucking idiot!”
I hear yet another echo caused by the Torment. Luckily, because this storm hasn’t had time to grow large yet, I catch a glimpse of a shadowy figure off in the distance - behind the desaturated raindrops falling from the sky, behind the swirling mist. I shift course, making sure to drag my companion behind me.
“You will sit here until you do as I say. If you try to leave, I will just beat you harder than before.”
I gasp, feeling my emotions briefly overflow into hatred and fear at the Torment’s behest. I remind myself of the plains and snowy mountains once more, doing my best to keep the image stable in the center of my mind. A moment later, we find what we’ve been looking for.
The Torment’s core.