Chapter 3
February 3,390 BC
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Sparks crackled in the smoke, giving everything an unearthly, hellish appearance. The rod scraped through his chest, threatening to drown him in his own blood. Gasping like a fish, he panted small, painful breaths, trying to get enough oxygen into his brain to clear the fog. He couldn't remember his name, but if he didn't extricate himself from this wreckage, he was a dead man!
Crepuscular rays of golden sunlight burst down through a crack in the ceiling, illuminating a beautiful, dark-haired spirit. Light reflected off her skin as she kneeled next to him, wearing the form of a creature of legend.
The source race?
A sense of awe flit into his mind and was gone before he had time to contemplate what ‘source race’ meant.
"O-kim-oldugunu yardim etmek icin beni buraya gonderdi ise," the spirit said. "Ben sana zarar demek."
The hand which touched his cheek and sympathetic look in her golden eyes was understood. There was no surviving such a wound. The spirit had come to guide him into the dreamtime.
An overwhelming sense of relief flooded his body.
Not alone.
Despite his pain, he smiled as he placed his fate into the spirit's hands.