Wyll

The scream came from inside and outside. Outsides out, insides in. The world spun and deformed around me, blistering and splitting and tearing and screaming. I didn’t want to feel pain, I didn’t want them to inflict it. The answer was so simple, like the falling of a stone. Common sense. Insides out, out, out. I was falling and flying and the world revolved with me at the center but at the same time was spinning so fast I was about to be thrown off, outside.

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Golden eyes told me the truth of the world but he was wrong. This was the only truth - whirling, spinning, twisting, tearing chaos. I was safe in the eye of the storm. No-one could hurt me here. I tried to think of the ones I called friends, but in the twisting tempest all was a blur, except me.

I felt the mana flow through me like knives. I felt the essence of it in the vortex, spiralling into me. I was a drain. I was the storm. It all comes back to me. It all comes back to this. It all comes back to this.