Bakar floated in the endless space of death, the deprivation of all senses; touch, taste, smell, hearing, and sight had long since driven him mad. Nothing he had experienced in his life compared to what he now faced.
"So, this is how it is to be dead." The words rolled off his tongue and echoed deafly in the void despite the seeming impossibility. Willing his mind and what small amounts of magic he unfelt around his body, he moved. The movement was nothing more than a twitch, a flexing of muscles that his body no longer maintained.
"This is wrong, something isn't right." The thought was welcome; perhaps there was more to the afterlife than nothingness.
Questions and a deep-seated desire for knowledge drove him into action. Simple flexing of muscles was replaced by weak movements followed by steady ones, and finally, he could almost feel himself walking as if on proper ground. Piece by piece, the senses he had lost began to return as the muscles and triggers he had searched for began to be revealed. Finally, after an unknown but doubtlessly lengthy time, he reached for his final sense, of touch. Like a master thief picking an equally proficient lock, he regained the last of his senses from the unknown abyss.
A flash of memories came to him then, the striking of lightning on his body, the fingers of the eldrich reshaping him in the image of its desire. The pain his apparent death had stopped flooded back, threatening his regained form as he fought hard to remain focused. Forward was the only way he could go now; a feeling that was unheard and unseen told him that was the only way. Continuing on the path, the pain grew more and more intense until once again he felt on the verge of the abyss threatening to consume him.
Thump. Bakar smashed into an unseen barrier. Thump. Fist thundered as he hit the unseen wall. THUMP.
THUMP. Again
Thump. Thump. Thump. The barrier gave way.
All at once, the void was replaced by everything: The blinding of the sun, the feeling of upturned soil beneath his bear skin, the smells, the sounds, everything.
The surrounding area was a devastated ruin, steam rose from the soil, and the dirt was still warm to the touch, and of the area where Maral and he had made love to each other, nothing remained.
"Maral." He cursed under his breath.
How had he forgotten about Maral? She had been his first, and he was hers. More so than that, they had made a deal. The alcohol had been unwise in hindsight; he was not used to it as much as he should be. Now he had a pact with Maral that would be unadvisable to break, not that he was one to break a deal in the first place.
The floor felt odd as he stood from his patch of warm dirt, it was to soft and infirm for the area.
"Not the dirt; but me, I am different." He realized, as he took a few faltering steps. Muscle had replaced the weak skin an insufficient diet had created. He stood taller than before; He had grown a few inches.
Retracing the path Maral had shown him was easy, avoiding his fellow Nomads was more difficult. The ordeal had destroyed his clothing completely much to his chagrin. However, the pebbles, sticks, and brush that normally would cut and sting had found no success with him. Not a single cut had been left upon his skin nor had he felt uncomfortable begin naked to the world.
The sun had nearly risen and with it the whole camp or those not to hungover to begin their daily routine. He slipped unseen through the door of Ghoa's tent, the small curtains that sperated the rooms kept him hidden, it was likely both his adoptive family were asleep. Ghoa herself was a black hole for booze, Cotoah would be asleep.
His room was plain and unadorned a marker of his status, only those things he needed to survive were there. Weapons, herbs, a saddle, and what he was curretnly looking for; his clothes. He reached for the only other pair of clothes he was afforded, simple riding clothes; tunic, pants, boots, everything else he would have to earn again and soon. Winter on the steppe was not a place to be caught without any form of warm clothing.
An audible gasp sounded behind him sending him into a slight panick.
Cotoah held a hand to he mouth to cover her blushing face. "Im so sorry!" she turned around but not before letting her eyes linger on his body.
Bakar had tried his best to hide some of his body with whatever he could grab nearby; a single sock and a boot in this case. A long awakard silence settled over the two as they stared at eachother.
"Cotoah?" He broke the silence but his adoptive sister seemed to barley hear.
"Yes?" she replied half dazed.
"Could you leave?"