* * *
She awoke in the shadow of a massive tree. She gazed up at the rays of sunlight falling through its branches, as the voices screamed through her mind.
The shadows and light shifted as the voices fought. Darkness fell across the land, and silvery light fell through the tree branches and the voices gradually went silent. The golden light came again, and three voices spoke out of the countless horde, urging her to rise and explore this place.
The woman named Liadin Inglorion stood slowly. Her muscles protested, so she reached out with her glamour to soothe them.
The glamour tried to spread from its channels in her spirit, it really did, but it felt as if she moved a mountain. She stood there in the shadow of the great tree, sweat dripping down her face. She could do this. She had done this before.
The glamour began to burn her, and at last, she let it go. She cried out softly as the voices pushed her. Look around, see this place, know it.
She looked at the great forest and its massive trees. One of the voices urged her to climb, to unsheathe her claws and seek a better vantage point. The other whispered caution, urged her to remember the illusions of the past. But the third one, the one she remembered hearing the longest said something else.
'I know this place. This is Domnann.'
* * *
She wandered through the trees, following the urgings of the eldest voice. Dead leaves and branches crunched under her feet, but the mobile mushrooms shied away from her. She smelled wrong for this place, said one of the voices. The demon leathers she wore marked her as something new and different. Dangerous.
The eldest voice found a road eventually, and she followed it. It took her up a hill and into a magnificient city. She paused next to one of the greater trees, looking around in awe. The impossible trees enchanted her, and she could ignore the hissing hate from some of the voices.
She rubbed at her forehead, trying to silence the voices, so she could look in peace. Two of them faded, but then she wished to call them back. The eldest voice settled over her mind, and she could feel a pulsing in her head and wrists. It hurt her, might have killed her if it could reach her. But it could not.
A man walked over to her, his red skin and ivory horns marking him as one of the demon half-elves. He smiled at her. "Greetings, fellow shar."
Liadin Inglorion looked at him blankly, then looked around. She seemed to be the only person nearby. But why did he call her a shar?
"What is wrong, young one?"
Liadin raised a hand to brush the hair out of her eyes and froze as a red hand with ivory spikes came into view. It moved as she directed, but how could it be her hand? Elven hands had light, almost translucent skin. Elven hands did not have ivory spikes that sent pain pulses throughout her body. She began to shake, ignoring the curious look the shar gave her. "Lady of Life, what has happened....?"
The End