The Spirit Realm is Sick[]
The spirit realm here is foul.
In Ionia it feels like clean earth, like fresh rain. Here, it’s like wading neck-deep through a sea of mold and rot and slime.
It’s suffocating. I can barely breathe. It feels worse when the Torturer peers into my cell. It feels worse when his lantern shines...
He drags the humans away one by one, but he never touches me. There are no other vastaya among the survivors of our shipwreck. Humans can live off of the rotten scraps he feeds them, but I need spirit magic as desperately as I need air.
I can already feel the lack of it. My heart beats slower... I lie here in the dark and my chest feels as if a weight is lying on it. I’d rather he drag me off and kill me than leave me here another day!
Maybe the Torturer knows it. Maybe leaving me to suffocate is his special plan for me…
