Pain and disorientation followed him into the present waking world, yet another battery of information assailing his unprepared mind as his consciousness returned…

Back from a past already experienced.

Fragments of recollection coalesced into a broken and shredded tapestry of memory as damaged as he was, detailing a story that felt… distant despite its recency.

His memories reasserted themselves with only slightly more clarity, the realization that his psyche had… folded in upon itself – bringing the agony he currently experienced, to the memory of his first awakening within the Cradle – creating a harsh enough bout of vertigo to cause his surroundings to twirl precariously in his eyes.

“I’m dying…” the revelation had little of its original shock, much of his emotions muted and drained by the agony that radiated across every atom of his being from his rapidly failing form.

Flashes of conversations, information, and revelations appeared erratically, each adding the slightest bit more context to memories lost in a haze of confusion, “I witnessed… something, was harmed by it… broken by it.” His thoughts were sluggish, his mind wracked with a deep fatigue, “Now my time’s running out.”

He tried to move, but even the slightest motion set his body alight with pain, as though a swarm of fire ants were writhing beneath the surface of his skin, gnawing at the muscle and meat below. The pain caused him to release a low grating groan, tears running down either side of his face, clouding his already blurry sight further.

Muted steps rapidly approached, barely audible under his prolonged moan, a blurred figure coming to hover within his sight, “You-you’re awake.” A voice spoke, its tone one of weary relief, audible even though it sounded as if the words were being spoken from underwater…

Yet he could still tell who was speaking.

Visions of a handsome – impeccably groomed – face with viperic eyes and a mischievous serpent fanged smirk, floated to the fore front of his mind; joined by a wealth of information and conversation all conducted through the very same voice speaking to him now.

Aapep.

“Can-can you move, Isaa-?” Aapep hesitantly begun to ask before he abruptly halted, the name dying on his lips as worry transitioned into sorrow.

“Isaac…” A deep melancholy rose within him at the name, even his own use of it – within the confines of his own mind – becoming an uncomfortable endeavor, because…

“Isaac… is dead.” The memory bloomed, his own words humming through his head with all of the despondence, fear, anger, and pain as they had when he had first uttered them. The realization as lacking in potency as his coming nonexistence, diluted as the memories had become by his current state.

He shifted – the movement making him feel as though he had split some of his skin apart – enough to “look” towards Aapep, “I told you-” he was forced to pause and take a breath, too weak to speak without, “call me whatever – you’re comfortable with.”

“It’s just…” Aapep’s voice trailed off, conflicting emotions making his voice tremble.

“Hard…” The shadow of Isaac offered, his voice a rasp like two sheets of sandpaper being rubbed together, “To reconcile with the fact that - what’s in front of you – despite all evidence otherwise – is not what you believe it to be?”

“Yes.” Aapep sounded almost defeated to his ears, “Isaac-You are everything to us… and to have to stand here, witnessing the state you are in now and be able to do nothing about it, while knowing we were the cause of it all in the first place… well, it goes far beyond being just hard or painful.”

He could almost feel the frustration and grief radiating off of Aapep as he finished, a tense silence falling between the two, “I desperately wish - I could consider myself to be him again, to find comfort, rather than confusion, in these memories I have - of a world and a life that I so pathetically cling to - despite my knowing they are not mine. I wish I could give you all your Isaac back, keep you all away from the pain - I’m causing you, but-”

Aapep snorted interrupting him, the sound wet with tears that he could not see, “But, I wouldn’t struggle with how to address you, if you didn’t go and act, speak, think… and make things more complicated for yourself just as He did…”

“And that is why you will always be Isaac to us.” Another voice smoothly joined in, “Because at your that is who you are, no matter the conflicts you are experiencing now.”

A second indistinct figure appeared in his sight, the two sets of horns on her head – obvious even through the curtain of haze that fell over both his eyes – as well as the throaty rumble of her voice, conjuring to mind the tall draconic woman that had been first to meet him, and introduce him to the space within the Cradle.

Tiamat.

He felt her place a hand against his arm, opposite of Aapep’s own, “And even once you enter into Vetem, at your core, you will still remain the man we know… the man who created us.”

“So, it's almost done?” Aapep addressed Tiamat, his tone one of sad relief with something… else beneath the surface, too slight to be made out completely.

“Yes.” Tiamat replied, clawed fingers rubbing soothingly against his skin, “Yggdrasill is just finalizing the last details.”

“They’re also making sure that your… final message is properly taken care of as well.” Her voice dropped to a sad whisper, the indistinct glowing orbs of her eyes turning back upon him, “Your words will get to those who need to hear it, They promise.”

“Good… that’s good” He rasped, grimacing as another wave of agony rolled through him, “Thank you, all of you.”

“There is no need to thank us, I-Isaac.” Aapep shifted, his opposite hand moving fast enough to create a headache inducing streak of colour in the air, “We are merely repaying all you have done for us… as well as making up for some of our mistakes.”

“Now.” In a minor flare of light, a shimmering square shape appeared where Aapep’s hand had been moving, “Before Yggdrasill truly finalizes all the details, I would like you to look over your choices… If-if you feel up to it of course.”

He nodded with a small hiss, “Yigg would you mind – helping me sit up?”

At his request, he was lifted up slightly, pliant vines wrapping around his chest to shift him into a more comfortable sitting position while others moved to support his back, “Thank you, Yigg.”

A shudder of pleasure ran through the vines, leaves, and moss pressed against him, his attention quickly shifting from Yggdrasill’s assistance back to Aapep, “Show me.”

With another quick motion, the square dissolved into a line of light before reappearing once more in front of his face, close enough that he could actually make out details for once-

[Denizen] – {Modified}

Join the world of Vetem as a natural inhabitant, as closely entwined with the realm’s workings as any other born within it, but at the cost of the memories of your life prior.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

+ Greater initial selection of skills, traits, and races.

+ No imposed penalties to progression.

{+} Start with the [Preternatural Wisdom] Trait.

- Loss of previous memories.

{-} Can only select from non-humanoid/non-bipedal

Races.

- Magical affinities in flux until Second Stage of development.

- {Extended} acclimation period.

- Singular life.

Preternatural Wisdom:

Retain the knowledge, insights, and experience of your previous life, though devoid of the context or memories associated with them.

+ Greatly increases the chance of Identity retention at the cost of Skill selection during Character Creation.

“Denizen and Preternatural Wisdom…” He glared at the screens, the dread, self-doubt, anger, and grief that he had experienced at their appearance rising up once more…

Before in yet another shock of pain they dispersed.

“None of that matters anymore.” He looked over each, reading line by line, barely remembering have read them the first time, “These give me a chance to live on, in at least some way… and I would be a fool not to take it.”

“These are as I remember.”

“Good.” Aapep swiped his hand and the screens swirled forming into yet another, “Then we can move on to your Race, as well as the two additional Traits I chose for you.”

“Your Race was-”

That’s as far as he heard before the pain struck again; it felt like someone were running a drill through his spinal column and electrocuting his nerves, his mind drowning under a flood of torment, a primal bestial scream ripping out from his throat as though it too were trying to escape the pain.

When just as suddenly it disappeared.

He slumped back down, his body on fire, his mind slowly beginning to function again.

“-or time!” A voice pierced through his tinnitus laden ears, fearful and angered, “Wrap him up Yggdrasill, Now!”

“Aapep…” He thought, just as his sight was obscured behind a wall of foliage. There was a soft susurrus as the tendrils and vines shifted about themselves and his person, low flashes of multi-coloured light coiling about their cords streaking past at an ever-increasing rate, “I wish- I wish I had had enough time to say goodbye…”

He could barely put together an idea of what had transpired since he had awoken within the Cradle, his mind a confusing mess of broken and shattered memories and information, “So much lost, so much I already can’t recall… what else did I choose, what am I to become?

The lights grew in brilliance, the rustling replaced by a swelling hum, and a voice echoed around him, “You have nothing to worry over.” It was an amorphous sound, as though he were hearing a crowd reciting passages in unison, seemingly replying to his inner musings, “Not of your future nor of your lack of goodbye, for at least one of those things has already been spoken.”

“They know, as We do, your appreciation, acceptance, and love”

“Even without your message, what you made out to be your eulogy, all of us know what we mean to you… and, more importantly, what you mean to us, Isaac.” Yggdrasill continued – as there was only one being he could believe this to be – the hundreds of voices, consisting of Yigg’s own singular tongue, overlapping each other like sheaves of paper, binded to form one cohesive work, “No matter your reservations in yourself; we know, with confidence, that even through the experiences you undergo in this new life, that the man at your core will remain. Our ally. Our friend. Our Creator.”

“Trust in yourself as We do. Fear not the past nor the future, worry not for what has been lost and forgotten… for you will never forget Yourself.”

If he could have moved, he would have shivered at the sheer amount of devotion in Yggdrasill’s voice, “What did I ever do to deserve this level of trust and expectation? How is it that they can have so much confidence in me, when I’ve lost nearly all of it in myself? Why can’t I remember?!”

The lights within his cocoon began to blur past in streaks of undefined colours, the surrounding hum turning to a teeth-rattling frequency, “Our time grows short, Isaac.” Yggdrasill’s voice was clear even through the hum, “So, in the time we have left, We wish to say goodbye. Not to you, but the past you leave behind, for this will not be the last we speak.”

It was an odd experience to hear a smile come across a voice consisting of hundreds, “This will not be the last we all hear your voice. But, while We do not know when it is next we shall converse, the day will come that you will take your rightful place amongst us; as who you have always been.”

Confusion ran rampant through his mind at Yggdrasill’s words, the surrounding lights and sounds reaching an equally astonishing crescendo, bathing his world in brilliant sound and white light, “What does that me--?”

―――――――――

He awoke with a start, flailing about in confusion as things began to fill his mind.

Concepts, descriptions, opinions, perceptions, and knowledge, that he became startingly aware he should have no understanding of, affirming themselves in his thinking as though they had always been there.

As though they were his own.

He stumbled over his own legs, just barely avoiding stepping on – or tumbling over – his siblings and mother, as he made a trail towards the pond that lay partially lit through the rents in the cavern’s ceiling.

“Rents? Ceiling?” He thought, then immediately paused, tripping over his legs and falling uncomfortably on his face.

His thoughts were frighteningly clear.

They were like his mother’s; clean, controlled… old.

His battered and raw mind urged him back to his feet, pulling him to once more walk towards the pond.

On unsteady legs he approached the still water, wondering through the pain in his head why he had such a desire to see himself, “What has changed? What is wrong with me?”

Fear intermingled with the desire, changing his stride to a desperate and unstable sprint.

The sprint caused him to lose his footing, rolling end over end, only to halt just at the edge of the pond.

His mind once more incessantly demanded he rise.

That he look into the water.

That he see.

He shook with fear as he stood once more, hovering just out of sight of the water.

His heart beat erratically in his chest, every step closer feeling as though he were moving legs made of stone.

The pond was unbothered by his panic, placid and tranquil. The cloudy beams of light hitting the surface reflected, and filled, the cave with enough of a glow to make out details even without his enhanced sight.

Yet, as he finally made the last step and leaned over the pond, he felt as though that light brightened just a little more.

He gazed into the water, the light working in conjunction with his vision to display his features in full. His face was as youthful as his siblings’, only just shy of their fourteenth year; and only a stone’s throw away from stepping into their juvenile stage.

He had a sharp chin and cheekbones for his age, though they were softened by the young fat that still clung to him. His skin was a dark tan, with a pronounced and warm red undertone that made him feel... happy, for some reason. His eyebrows and lashes were thick and full, the same rich black colour of his hair, and stood out just enough to be visible against the fur that covered his forehead and his nose.

The fur was the same colour as that across the rest of his body, a unique black and deep red undercoat with white at its tips. Starting from the black triangle of his lower felinid nose, and up its flat and slightly tapered bridge, the shorter fur faded up into his hairline.

His inspection drew his eyes over his hair and to his ears. The two triangles twitched unconsciously at his attention, their position further back on his head causing them to rise from his short and unruly mane like fur covered mountains.

He moved them on his own; feeling as the tuft of fur obscuring their openings and the hair surrounding them tickled him and made him smile.

His smile exposed his teeth, all a muted gold at their root and whitening to their tips, as well as the four long and sharp fangs that rested within his mouth. It was a carnivorous grin – unsettling to likely all but himself and his own kind – but as he looked back into his own eyes, it felt… right.

Under the nightly conditions, his pupils were massive abyssal orbs, but what little of his irises that could be seen filled him with an odd sense of contentment.

They were both separate colours; his left eye a rich green, like plants glutted with water after the rainy season, and his right a bright blue, like clear water under the light of the Brothers. But their presence caused his mind to calm, the sharp pain from the sudden appearance of so much information fading as he fell into his own sight.

He sat back on his haunches, vision still locked on his own reflection and let out a shaky breath that he barely realized he had been holding.

“I don’t know what has changed.” He mused, the awareness that his mind had drastically changed obvious through the clear form his thoughts took, “But it feels… good? Not in the sense that I am comfortable with everything now filling my head, or this… unsteadiness that I feel throughout my body. But that this shift in myself is meant to help me more than harm me.”

There was another sharp twinge in his mind, causing him to narrow his eyes, “Though I guess only time will tell if that feeling is true or not…”