Paradise.
How else could I describe the High Realm if not as paradise? It's all a dead man could ask for. No pain, no fighting, no endless torment, no overseers. All of that, replaced by… by… The High Realm was difficult to explain. It isn't a place, it isn't a location, a new plane of existence. It was a feeling. A state of mind. A good, calming, state of mind. Like a herbal tea, or a mother's warm embrace after a long, arduous day of work. Or, rather, it was.
I'm not so sure how long I had been in the High Realm when it happened. All I remember is a distant, muted explosion followed by a sense of dread. The ever-comforting feeling of the High Realm came to an abrupt stop. Then the cracks started forming. Fissures in the very being of the Realm, ruptures in the endless wonder. Through these cracks, I saw her. Yvith, this large, indescribable mass of… suffering. As though all the bad of Xerophylla, of the Foundation, of humanity, had been given form. I watched, from my popped bubble of blissful ignorance, as she tore apart the Heavens.
As I fell from paradise, I felt a toxic, maddening presence enter me.
I got up with a start and hit my skull on the wood above me, cursing the pain as I rubbed my head. Pain… That's not something I had felt in a long, long time. I slowly forced open my crusty eyes, coming face to face with the wood in front of me. It was old and rotten, the holes in the planks letting in some of the light from above. Had I really been dead for that long?
I pushed against the lid of the coffin, which came off far too easily. I looked up at the descending sun illuminating my coffin, through a clear absence of dirt. With some effort, I pulled myself out of my grave and stood up. The city around me looked just like how I remembered it, dreary and decrepit. I looked down at the tombstone behind me, taking time to take in each letter of my name.
I frowned. I worked hard at that damnable Foundation and that was all they could be bothered to put down for me? I helped with numerous projects and helped them gain power and this is all they could bother to put on my grave? They couldn't even give me an actual tomb. Just chuck me in here with the lowlife, like I was a no one…
I turn to look at the rest of the graveyard. None of the other graves were unburied or disturbed. I look at the one next to mine - belonging to an "Iceberg" - and hear the sounds of pounding underneath the dirt. Whatever had happened in paradise has caused the dead to come back. No trouble, I'll find someone to send me back.
I began to shamble down the dirt path, my rotten legs struggling to take me anywhere. I'd leave this graveyard, find an arcanist or witch to send me back to the High Realm, and be done with this. As I walked, I heard the same pounding I had heard from Iceberg's grave in all the others. Maybe I had been lucky to be unburied, even if it was disrespectful.
At the far end of the graveyard, I saw someone else, tending to a broken gravestone. She seemed to be on the younger side, though it was hard to tell with the haggard robe that she wore. She had on the clothes of a peasant, a patchwork hood made up of other, equally as dirty clothing. She'd have to make do. I limped towards her, calling out for her help.
She got up with a start, turning to look at me with a scared expression. Her face was stained with filth and grime, her hands covered in dirt and muck from the grave. She seemed to be paralyzed from fright at the sight of me.
As I got closer to her, I felt myself start to move faster, much more quickly than I had intended. I tried to call out to her to help, to ask for me to be sent back to the High Realm, but all that came out was a guttural scream. I felt my arms come up in front of me, reaching out to grab her. I closed my eyes and tried to stop, tried to freeze my body in place. I felt myself become a lot lighter as I heard footsteps running away from me.
I hesitantly opened my eyes and, in horror, saw my body in front of me, moving on its own. It shambled towards the girl, swiping and clawing at her. I ran towards it, reaching out to stop it, grab onto its shoulders and pull it back. I pounced on it and went right through it, hitting the ground hard. The body ran over me and jumped on the girl as I got up. I laid there on the ground and watched in horror as I ripped into the girl, biting down on her flesh and spraying blood on the nearby gravestone.
Trembling, I sat back up. My body copied my movements, pulling out a long piece of the intestine as it rose. I almost vomited at this site, doubling over and falling back to my knees. My body fell back down and ripped a chunk out of her face, exposing her yellowed teeth underneath her cheeks.
Every time I tried to move away, avert my gaze from myself, my body mocked my movement, moving so I could see as it tore into the poor girl, mutilating and mangling what was left of her.
Under the reddening sun, I watched as a hateful presence took over my body. I watched as it rose from the tattered remains of the girl and, without any input or command from me, shambled away to find its next victim. To tarnish what was left of my legacy.