It was an odd thing to have your world be entered by people it was not meant was. The Sundering Gardens were meant for the living but this realm… the realm of the Soul-Stream it was made for the dead. It couldn’t be helped, the redhead thought. Her aunt was corrupted thoroughly and it would take a group of people or someone to help make her better. She needed to be cleansed. She needed to feel the depth of her soul come forward and rebirth like this realm was meant to do.

The goddess stood atop the purple island that was one of many. She was looking overlooking the entirety of the realm. She felt the deep rooted evil towards the end. Corruption was a terrible thing. It ruined the beautiful of this world no matter how confusing it truly was.

Angela’s long red hair was down to her hips, left alone to be wild and free in the light breeze that the soul-stream had. Robes of green and gold silk adorned her body for easy travel. Not that she couldn’t travel in a dress, she did that much too often. It was comfortable but also allowed her to be able to cast if she had to. This place wasn’t meant to be overly dangerous. It was meant to be a sanctuary but there were just some things reacting to the chaos that Kira had brought with her. She would have to deal with them before long.

A sigh left her lips as her green eyes scanned over everything. Trandifir was in its staff form. The staff was a gorgeous obsidian carved and inlaid with gold at the etching. The power it resonated was immense but it was a peaceful energy. It wasn’t intimidating at all. This was her weapon of choice but most of the time it was a healer’s item. It knew very little bloodshed.

Beval had been progressing in his magick very well. He could now fight off hoards of weak enemies with his flaming breath. He was well aware of his accomplishment and held himself with a slight amount of pride that was unusual for him. He didn’t usually send hints of his emotional state through body language, even though it was subtle. It was not usual for him to have any sense of pride, really. And of course this out-of-character this pride that got him lost in the soul-stream.

Having no idea what he was doing, he decided to search for the corrupted piper that seemed to be all the rage among adventurers. He retrieved a necklace that was supposed to keep his soul bound along his adventure from a gambler who had no use for it. Beval is not one to gamble, therefore he simply bought it from the man. Skeptical of whether or not it was the real deal, his newfound pride pushed him to gave it a shot and found an entryway through a barrel of water. So far it had seemed to do the trick.

With the necklace resting around his neck, the elf stood on a purple islands he didn’t even remember how he got to. He squinted his eyes to search for any sign of soul-bound life inhabiting the numerous similar islands. They seemed to go on forever, further than his eagle eyes could see thanks to the horizon cutting off wherever they led.

His rear made contact with the purple ground, sitting. His arms crossed, resting on his knees. This is the most illogical decision I have ever made. Grandmother would be furious. I am a fool. His robes had dirtied and his boots had been worn down significantly since he left home. All his life he had been taught efficiency, which includes efficiency of funds, which he had, but refused to spend unless his robes no longer covered his body and his boots no longer stayed on his feet. That mindset was beginning to be challenged.

After a few moments of self-pity, it dawned upon his elvish brain that sitting here doing nothing was progressing. He forced his legs into standing position, continued to observe his surroundings, and calculate his options. I know. An imaginary bulb flashed over his head.

He swung his backpack down from his shoulders and pulled out a small log of wood he planned to practice his fire magick on. He placed the log on the ground, retreated a safe distance, and readied himself. Closing his eyes, he began taking deep breaths, collecting the heat inside his body. One: inhale, drawing his breath through his nose, exhale, and quickly let out the air. Two: inhale, exhale. He pulled his arms to his stomach, as if to be cradling the fire within him. Three: inhale. And. His hands directed towards the log as-EXHALE. Bright flames roared from his mouth, setting the log on fire. A bit overkill, considering he could have just lit it with a fireball, but it was worth the practice.

It wasn’t big, but the smoke could easily be seen.

Angela was deep lost into thought but it wasn’t deep enough to where she had lost all sense of the area. Her mind snapped to when she saw the smoke. Her bare feet were nimble as she began to launch herself from island to island. She hit anti-gravity spots every once in a while and flailed before managing to hit the ground. Her robes flared a bit as she crash landed down onto her knees. She let out a disgruntled noise as she looked up at a cheshire cat that had caused her to hit unusually hard. There was a dangerous look that came into her eyes now as the cat disappeared from sight. “Oy,” she said as she stood up and brushed her knees off.

“It’s not so wise to light fires when you don’t know who will answer.” She used Trandafir to waft the smoke away. Her green eyes looked up to the elf and she tilted her head. “Luckily for you, I’m not one to want elf ears for my potions.” She reached out and went to touch the tip of his ear. She stopped herself completely and chuckled. “It’s barbaric really to use them. They are so nice looking on a handsome face.” She had to think about her own husband’s nice elvish ears. The thought made her giddy.

“Are you lost perhaps?” She leaned onto Trandafir and watched the elf with slight interest. “Maybe you want help finding the way out?” She tilted her head softly to the other side. “Perhaps a blessing? A curse?” She started to laugh. “I’m just kidding about the curse.” She had been here too long and it was sort of starting to unravel her mind a bit. She took a deep breath and centered herself. “You aren’t stuck here on the islands are you?”

She tapped one of her feet on the ground. “I’m Angela, The Goddess who let you in here. Nifty isn’t it?”