'Saryn?'
'Saryn.'
Distant memories flashed past like speeding trains, trains of thought. Flashing before disappearing just as quickly as they showed up.
But of all the memories that came to him, his name, uttered by the mysterious voice, bore a deep familiarity to him.
Saryn slowly dismounted the throne, the one that he knew wasn't only made for him, his bones creaked like that of dusty floorboards. His teeth chattering from the lack of heat in his damned cage.
Saryn's head twisted and turned, his neck cracking occasionally.
One mirror, two mirrors, three mirrors.
Four fine, untouched mirrors surrounded him at each corner of the chamber, casting an eerie contrast to the raggedness of the rest of the room.
'I am Saryn.'
Each of his steady steps toward one of the mirrors cast no sound, just as silent as his soul, Saryn kept his head down as he approached the weirdly spotless mirror. One lantern attached to a rusty steel chain hovered quietly above the mirror, as if blessing Saryn's reflection with its warm pink glow like some sort of higher deity.
Or perhaps it was smiting Saryn's very existence.
He couldn't tell.
'Not important.'
Saryn said to himself.
He continued forward, relentless despite the pain overtaking every fiber of his being.
Once Saryn had reached the ethereal mirror, he raised one hand, placing his palm against the mirror, supporting his body as he kept himself from stumbling headfirst into the cold hard stone. His head raised, scanning the reflection in the mirror.
He saw… a youthful man, maybe eighteen or twenty, with sharp features, albeit looking quite ordinary. The man's skin was quite pale, but undamaged and smooth. His deep dark navy hair had a metallic sheen to it, contrasting very much to his… cyan… eyes?
'Cyan?'
He thought.
This felt wrong… and very off. He shook his head, thinking his fractured memories could be misleading him.
Saryn sighed before turning back toward the mirror, he was pleased with his frame, despite the loss of his memory and all the other horrors that had just occurred in this room, his body looked healthy, with almost zero signs of stress, apart from the dark bags underneath his eyes.
Overall, he didn't look particularly stunning nor ugly, he looked extremely ordinary, except for his bright cyan eyes, which were definitely unnatural.
Saryn was greatly confused, he stood there for a while, staring into his own glowing eyes.
'Where am I?'
He thought, letting go of the mirror before turning around, examining the room. Four of these mirrors set up the exact same in each corner, with the exact same lantern above each one. The deep engravings in the ground and walls that constructed the glowing ritual circle around him were now dull and unreactive. Apart from that there was the "throne" in the middle, more than a throne it served as his hospital bed. The throne was definitely constructed masterfully, it was black with occasional purple glows, its crystals protruded out like shards of obsidian.
He walked back toward the throne before crouching down and studying it carefully. Runes covered the exterior of the throne, reading a language he can't currently decipher, the runes were incredibly difficult to spot anyway, being made of a matte black material that blended in seamlessly with the obsidian around it.
Saryn stood back up, sighing and walking to another mirror that was stationed on the right of the one he was previously at. He rubbed his eyes before looking up at the mysterious lilac lantern.
'What are those?'
He thought. His eyes spotted countless tiny particles almost swimming around in the glass. Despite the bright pink glow, these particles consisted of either a deep blue or a bright cyan, and they stood out to him much more than the pink light being emitted from the lantern.
The more he looked at the motes of light, the more he could feel his very self being pulled toward them.
As if they belonged to him.
Subconsciously, his hand had already gravitated toward the lantern as he tried to reach it, and once he had noticed his instinctive action, he pulled his arm back. Saryn looked away from the lantern and instead stared back into the mirror.
However, the light pulled at his soul again, and out of curiosity, Saryn attempted to climb toward the lantern.
He planted a foot into the engravings of each wall, steadily climbing up. After reaching the lantern, he reached down to grab the mirror.
Right before touching the corner of the mirror, Saryn's right foot dislodged itself, causing him to tumble down into the stone floor.
His head rang like some sort of alarm clock, except he couldn't switch it off. His body ached far more than before, but the silent tugging of the lantern did nothing but harden his resolve further.
Saryn climbed once again, this time managing to pick up the mirror while he was at arm's reach with the lantern, he hauled the mirror up with one hand, before using its corner to shatter the lantern.
Shards of glass rained down on his grey torn robes, a small cut appeared on the side of his face, but at that distance, most of the glass was harmless, it all fell onto the floor beneath him.
His eyes focused intensely at the remains of the lantern on the chain, the pink light disappeared, yet he could still spot the motes of cyan and blue light as they flew out in different directions.
The more he watched them, the more hunger he felt.
'No, that's not me.'
It wasn't him, rather it was the being who had taken refuge in his body, carving its own desires upon the fabric of his soul.
After a moment of hesitation, Saryn's hand instinctively let go of the mirror underneath him and shot up toward the tiny lights.
The lights gravitated toward his hand and body like moths to a fire, and just like a destructive wildfire, his body consumed the motes whole.
With every light that entered his body, he felt further revitalised, further reborn, and far more powerful. His instincts sharpened like those of a feral beast, and in the midst of all his joy, he had lost his footing.
Tumbling back down onto the hard ground, it didn't quite hurt as much this time, his body felt stronger and more resilient, unlike the creaking shell it was before.
Saryn was splayed across the floor in his satisfaction.
He slowly tilted his head up to look at the mirror he had previously let go of, just to be greeted by a reflection of himself, looking over him like some sort of guardian, and relaying a voice that wasn't his.
"Enjoying yourself there, aren't you?"