Page 51 - Demo

Kelly Maloney
The End Of Arasta Village
Fields upon fields, that was all I could see. I was comfortably sitting on a bale of
hay, gnawing on a piece of wheat and staring into the endless nothingness. My name is Crimson but due to the fact that my body is missing, I have become a wandering specter, hopping from body to body. Currently I was in the body of a young boy, his name and age were unknown to me but I assumed that he was at least thirteen years old. I had been walking for many hours in a random direction and only now decided that it was fruitless to continue.
When I first awoke I found myself in a small village buried underneath a mountain of corpses. It seemed that the kid was the only survivor. The body was covered head to toe in blood and the right ankle was definitely sprained. Only thanks to my supernatural pain resistance did I manage to make it this far but even specters like me have limits.
“Great body that I got myself this time huh? Small, injured and barely strong enough to hold a sword. How could this get any worse?” I loudly lamented to myself. It indeed could get much worse. Somehow in this hellish middle of nowhere, a
priest managed to come across my sorry state. A priest. A god damned priest. At first I didn’t notice him in my very loud lamenting (you can’t blame me, okay?) but once I smelled the distinct odor of holy magic on him did I finally notice him. He looked in his mid forties and wore the distinct robes of the Capital of Flowers, Grünstadt. I must have been a sight to behold, a child covered in blood, cursing aloud and definitely not possessed by a soul with no body.