(1) Ressurection

The sound of the waves lapping the shore was the first thing heard, the sand beneath her skin seeming only like an echo of what it should feel like. Her mind was tormented, could only process despair in that moment, and this new state confused her. She lay upon the sand, coughing, the salty air rushing into newly formed lungs; it almost hurt to breathe again. She wore a tattered dress, or what was left of it. It was frayed and torn in ribbons at the skirt, molded, its blue color long faded into a grayish tint. She could hear the breeze of the ocean shore in the night, and knew she should be cold, but she felt very little through her numbed skin, still disconnected from her flesh. She raised her arms before her, and they were no longer transparent, but flesh and bone.

“I…am alive…?” she spoke aloud, her voice no longer resonant. It felt strange to use muscles that had not been in use for so long. She tried to rise, but her body would not comply…she felt so heavy. She was wet from head to toe, drenched completely, and the sand covered every part of her that was exposed. She took in another ragged breath and tried to sit up, but could only lift her head and shoulders from the sand, the rest of her body unwilling to cooperate.

“Have I found a treasure upon the beach?” came an unfamiliar voice, followed by a light chuckle. A figure stood on the rock north of her, the moonlight lining his form. He seemed to dance his way to the shore, until he stood near her, a wide grin on his face. His hair was pulled back into a long ponytail, and she made it out to be a light color, his eyes startlingly green. The woman probably should have been afraid to be so vulnerable before a stranger…she was quite lovely. But she was usually the one that had frightened people…

He kneeled down before her, looking her over as she lay down on the sand, her face remaining expressionless, cold. The only real sign of life of the woman was her amber eyes, which shined in the moonlight. Other than that, she did not seem much more than a pretty rag doll, discarded upon the beach. The man held an approving look on his face and smiled once again at her, interlocking his fingers.

“I am Bastion Delaurac, at your service, my dear,” he said genteelly, nodding slightly at her, his blonde hair coming to rest on his shoulder. The silver buckle of his belt caught the moonlight, making it gleam, drawing her eyes to it, but still she said nothing, nor moved.

“And you…” he began, reaching forward to gather her into his arms, supporting her, “are a lost soul, which I have saved.”

His words came tenderly as he brushed the sand from her skin, his eyes marveling at his creation.

“A lost soul..?” she said softly, her brow furrowing ever so slightly. He caressed her face, removing some of the hairs that clung to her skin.

“Mhm. Beautiful one at that.”

She shook her head, not understanding, and she began to gather the strength to sit up on her own, but Bastion’s hand rested at the small of her back, supporting her.

“Do you know what you were? What has happened?” he asked calmly, raising a thin eyebrow at her. The woman tried to think…she saw faces, felt pain, felt anguish…utter despair and regret…loss. Her heart seemed to plummet in her chest, and she seemed to choke on the feelings and gasped aloud.

“I was a…thing…I am pain. That is what I am…”she answered, her voice like the whispering of autumn leaves, the familiar feelings of misery laid upon her mind once again. Something wet dripped from her eyes and trailed down her face: she could barely feel it

“Your family was killed, and you died to be with them, dear Anna…”

The name rung familiar in her ears.

Sounds of laughing children, the gentle, loving touch of another…

The smell of burning flesh…

She shuddered as more tears flowed from her eyes, and she began to rock herself back and forth.

The manor near the Cliffside that was burning, the trees like shadowy fingers pointing toward the ashes of her beloved children…

She let out a screaming howl into the night, like a banshee damned.

Her body broken upon the rocks as her blood drained into the ocean waves…

“Please…no…” the wailing woman pleaded, her face gathered into her hands.

A wicked grin spread across Bastion Delaurac’s face, as he watched the woman fall apart in her new flesh.

“Come now, sweet Anna,” he said gently, patting her on the small of her back. He stood away from her and seemed to be searching the beach for something.

“I can help you. Help you to get your revenge. To be strong.”

She heard the strange gurgle in the distance, and something trotted rather quickly in the sand to chase after Bastion. Looking in the direction through tear-stained eyes, an odd, small, fish-like humanoid streamed across the sand, waving a spear longer than its body at her companion.

“Watch…”he muttered beneath his breath as the murloc charged him.

Bastion thrust his hand outward, murmuring peculiar words as an energy seemed to encircle the murloc, and it yelped in dismay as it began to choke on its own fluids, bile frothing at its mouth. Still, it pushed on, and Bastion met it with a sword, the metal clanging upon contact. Bringing a foot up to kick the thing back, a strange creature by Bastion’s side fought alongside him, she noticed, and fireball after fireball was thrust into the murloc’s face from this frail looking creature. A funnel of pink energy shot from Bastion’s hand as his ally threw its last fireball into the murloc’s chest, and the thing fell forward dramatically, its last breath wheezed upon the sand as the pink energy disappeared.

Bastion stepped near the corpse and picked up any copper pieces it may have had, but he seemed to be extremely excited by something else he held in his hand. Nearing Anna, he opened his hand to reveal a pink crystal, which seemed to hum with an energy.

“It’s a soul shard, sweetness,” he said as he pocketed the shard in a backpack he carried.

“You can do magnificent things with them. Such little bastions of power…”he chuckled, taking humor in the use of his name.

He scooped the woman up in his arms again, and before she could protest, he put a single finger to her lips, then moved a strand of scarlet hair out of her eyes.

“I can teach you these things. All you need to do is be a good student, Anna,” he said, cradling her as he walked across the beach.

“Rest now. You will need your energy for the morning.”

The woman wiped a remaining tear from her face, much to tired to argue, and slowly, rocked by the rhythmic steps of her savior, she fell into deep, dreamless sleep.