The name lingers on his lips
Kareth Skathe
It's like a tether, a thread that keeps him linked to the world.
Bringing the sword down to his waist he weakly places it through a loop in his cracked armour. The sword seemingly didn't have a sheathe and his arms were close to giving out from merely holding the sword for a few seconds. This is the best he had for now.
He had trembled from the struggle of keeping the sword held, though the throbbing pain enveloping the rest of the body means that his hands are the least of his worries.
Kareth feels as if he isn't even in his own body right now. Maybe it's just that his mind hasn't fully awakened yet. Though it might be a good thing for now.
Kareth begins to take more steps. Slowly relearning how to walk properly, despite the gnawing pain in his legs he trudges on.
His gaze is fixed on the ground, watching his feet with every unsteady step. Attempting to ensure that he doesn't slip or fall. Not that he could catch himself anyway.
The piles of bodies gradually lessen in height, the corpses becoming less morbid and brutalised as he reaches what is seemingly the edge of the battlefield.
His head slowly lifts. The bodies are finally coming to an end.
He rubs his eyes and focuses his vision.
Trees. Many, many trees.
Kareth has managed to find a forest, or at least a place free of the torment in the battlefield behind him
Light peers through the gaps in the leaves. Brightening the ground just enough to see ahead of him but not enough to be sure of the details
His steps become more even and he walks into the forest. The ground significantly more stable than that of walking over piles of dead bodies
The sound of wind blowing through the leaves brings a sense of calm, though he doesn't have time to relish in the feeling as every second he's standing the pain grows more intense.
The trees get denser as he continues to press on, the light growing dimmer and dimmer.
The air shifts, becoming cold, rigid.
Mist curls along the roots and underbrush, clinging to the ground.
Something stirs in his chest. Similar to the feeling he had upon first laying his eyes on the sword.
Though unlike the sword its not recognition.
Something more natural. More primal. Even instinctual
His right arm tenses in pain as his brings his hand to the hilt of the sword on his arm
Even if he's too weak to swing the blade, likely too weak to even draw it. It's all he can do.
Kareth's steps become slower, more calculated and purposeful.
It's not quiet. But not loud. An unsettling volume with the lingering threat of something yet to be seen nor noticed.
The rustle of leaves on the floor. Faint creaks of trees being swayed by the wind.
Time seems to be moving strangely, the seconds between each step feel like minutes. The minutes he walks bleed into hours.
Eventually the light from the sun cuts completely.
Around him is darkness, not pitch black. But too dark to see anything.
Kareth nearly walks into a tree, luckily hitting it with the hilt of the sword before hitting the tree himself.
Upon peering around the tree he sees something.
A light,
Faint, Flickering.
Yet.
Warm, almost inviting.
His breath catches in his throat.
The steps around the tree all seem much louder. Almost deafening.
The rustle of the world around him grows louder.
Every thought running through his head tells him to stop walking, but his body won't let him.
The sound grows louder and louder. Ringing in his ears like an alarm
Then all at once, it cuts. The noise vanished instantly.
Everything goes dark.
Kareth hears a thump and his ears ring from the impact.
Something. No, someone. Hit him
He crumples to the ground, every nerve screaming, but he can't move. Just before darkness takes him, a shape looms above, indistinct, human. Then nothing