The scene shifted once more from one place of darkness to another.

He was rather miffed that he had been rejected.

His eyes skimmed millions of souls. His mind and form reaching out to thousands of them.

Again he found another shadow, but this time something caught his eyes and so he reached out.

This shadow rested upon its knee's, arms upon the ground. Its head drooping as if in sadness, as small black flames fell from its face to the ground.

Reminiscent of tears.

Tears that vanished before they touched the ground.

He felt at the shadows deepened, as the figure rose from the unknowable depths.

His head rose to gaze upon the being, his nonexistent pupils expanding.

Before him stood a cruel mockery of a man.

A figure with skin blacker than night, arms too long for such a short body. A face that wasn't a face but a hungering abyss.

As these thoughts raced through his mind the figures form swiftly changed as if in response to his thoughts.

Now it stood tall, its arms adjusting to conform to an expected length.

No longer was its face an abyss but more like that of a mannequin, save for the two abyssal pits that remained to indicate eyes.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"There we go...Now then, what is it that you desire? I can give you many things for a price." The midnight skinned figure spoke in a voice deeper and darker than the oceans darkest depths.

He looked upon the thing that stood before him. This thing that offered much but spoke little of the price.

It reminded him of stories he had heard of devils making deals for people souls.

'Why shouldn't I accept...I've already been damned to this...' He jerked himself from that train of thought.

It was precisely why he was here, he knew that truth. He had lost many things but still he recalled that.

He remembered his father and mother.

He remembered....

He remembered a dream.

A dream of something more...

Slowly he rose to his 'feet' and clenched his clawed hands into fists.

He had dreamed of being a hero, of helping people, of changing the world.

Though his had fallen along the way he had never forgotten his dreams.

He could do nothing.

He was but a shadow of the man that had been.

Here in this moment he saw no path forward only the choice, and so he chose.

"No...No, NO!" his voice was a whisper at first but with each second it grew stronger.

He had made his choice and so he followed it.

He knew it was beyond foolish but still he swung his clawed hand trying to strike the figure.

He struck knowing he likely wouldn't even be able to hurt the thing before him, but still he tried.

Why?

He himself didn't fully understand it.

To make amends? To accomplish something?

For a chance of redemption...

"Insolence..." The figure spoke in an annoyed tone raising a hand to backhand the shadow.

For an instant the shadow felt a fire in its chest, before the world went white.

Congratulations! The Road of Redemption I has opened to you...

You have been granted the Rare class, Paladin of Redemption, Lvl. 1...

You have taken the Oath of Dreams...

You have acquire the Legendary skill, Dreams of something more, Lvl. 1...

Welcome back player, Jacob Simons...