[Cole doesn't follow immediately, merely watching as the memories of the cell unfold around Tek.]
Cole lies on the cell floor. It must be Cole, it looks like him, though where he's scrappy and thin, this Cole is painfully underweight, ribs protruding, lips split and swollen. He's in the corner of the cell, where water trickles down the cracks, making the cell cold and damp but clearly providing the only source of water.
This Cole's hair is falling out, thinned and filthy. He has probably been crying a lot, but he seems too exhausted to cry any more and just lies where he is, breathing ragged and labored.
He reaches out a hand and a spark of magic lights him up briefly, a tiny flame reaching across his fingertip. There is no light in here, and yet somehow, the scene is clear.
The fire splutters out and there is a surge of something. Anger? Hate? Despair? Desperation?
There are no words, but it is clear. He is dying and he is scared and he hasn't seen anyone in so painfully long.
And then, finally, the air cracks and something slips out, reaching towards Cole. It's a spirit, not quite the spirit back in the other room, this one is brighter, but less human formed. It slides into the room and comes to sit by the dying boy, hesitating and then stroking an appendage over his hair.
Too weak to open his eyes, the boy makes a noise and the spirit nods, slowly taking a shape. Something human, but undefined, the spirit in the other room. It reaches a hand to the boy's and takes it, holding it and stroking his hair.
"You're not alone. I'm here. I haven't forgotten you, Cole. It's all right, you're not alone."
Its voice is something not quite human, felt as much as heard, but Cole smiles slightly and sighs, relaxing. Sinking into death.
Something rushes from his body, something invisible and real and it tears through the spirit. The spirit screams and as it does so, it gains body, form, it becomes Cole and then hurls itself into the corner of the room, away from the dead body. It's terrified and confused.
The body, Cole, starts to rot away. Far too quickly to be anything but the passage of time that the spirit was trapped in there with it, with walls that screamed suffering and pain and anguish.
When the cell door opens, the body is a week or two rotted and the Templar looks shocked, but gains his composure quickly. "You bloody idiot! He would've made a useful Tranquil! Clean this up, we'll burn the paperwork. No one has to know."
The spirit flees through the door when the two men come in to move the body.
[The memory ends. The cell has nothing but a lifeless corpse in the corner and a rend in space that promises the lights of the Marsiva beyond.]
*clings to rp*
Cole lies on the cell floor. It must be Cole, it looks like him, though where he's scrappy and thin, this Cole is painfully underweight, ribs protruding, lips split and swollen. He's in the corner of the cell, where water trickles down the cracks, making the cell cold and damp but clearly providing the only source of water.
This Cole's hair is falling out, thinned and filthy. He has probably been crying a lot, but he seems too exhausted to cry any more and just lies where he is, breathing ragged and labored.
He reaches out a hand and a spark of magic lights him up briefly, a tiny flame reaching across his fingertip. There is no light in here, and yet somehow, the scene is clear.
The fire splutters out and there is a surge of something. Anger? Hate? Despair? Desperation?
There are no words, but it is clear. He is dying and he is scared and he hasn't seen anyone in so painfully long.
And then, finally, the air cracks and something slips out, reaching towards Cole. It's a spirit, not quite the spirit back in the other room, this one is brighter, but less human formed. It slides into the room and comes to sit by the dying boy, hesitating and then stroking an appendage over his hair.
Too weak to open his eyes, the boy makes a noise and the spirit nods, slowly taking a shape. Something human, but undefined, the spirit in the other room. It reaches a hand to the boy's and takes it, holding it and stroking his hair.
"You're not alone. I'm here. I haven't forgotten you, Cole. It's all right, you're not alone."
Its voice is something not quite human, felt as much as heard, but Cole smiles slightly and sighs, relaxing. Sinking into death.
Something rushes from his body, something invisible and real and it tears through the spirit. The spirit screams and as it does so, it gains body, form, it becomes Cole and then hurls itself into the corner of the room, away from the dead body. It's terrified and confused.
The body, Cole, starts to rot away. Far too quickly to be anything but the passage of time that the spirit was trapped in there with it, with walls that screamed suffering and pain and anguish.
When the cell door opens, the body is a week or two rotted and the Templar looks shocked, but gains his composure quickly. "You bloody idiot! He would've made a useful Tranquil! Clean this up, we'll burn the paperwork. No one has to know."
The spirit flees through the door when the two men come in to move the body.
[The memory ends. The cell has nothing but a lifeless corpse in the corner and a rend in space that promises the lights of the Marsiva beyond.]