Caldis Ilfirnas

Caldis was dead.
He had lain there for at least three hours now, feeling the slow numbing sensations flow out over his body, a kind of warmth in the feeling, a sense almost of peace.
Now the disease that was now finally finishing his life, the disease he had vowed to beat, to cast out by magick or otherwise and live again, had won. His body was only a shell now, a pallid slowly cooling lump of flesh, no longer animate under his will to weave the elements at his bidding.
They had said that was what had caused the mystery disease, a disease that none could understand, or halt the spread of... his work in the arts, something dark had entered his body from his conjurations, but that was impossible he assured them, but all the same it had appeared, it had started in his hand, spreading up his arm. Had he known then that it would leave him so, dead on his bed a scant five months later. He would of done what he could not even contemplate then, to slice off his own hand, to save the rest of his body.

He knew that he was dead, no feeling, no memory even... except of his name... he felt... apart, disjointed, like a cloud floating slowly away in the breeze; below he could see himself, laying there, cold and still... no longer breathing as the last of the doctors leaned over his body and slowly closed the eyelids of his corpse.
He opened his mouth to call to the man, to ask him if he could see him, him, Caldis... a moment of worry... he no longer knew who this Caldis was, or what he did, or rather had done in life... only that he breathed no longer, and his voice was as silent as his discorporal death-watch of himself...

As the doctor walked out of the room, Caldis felt a wave of feeling wash over him like a tide, it was strange, he realised that until that moment he was almost unaware of feeling, emotion, empathy... yet this sensation brought back a glimmer of memory of his life, now gone, ended, finished... dead. Something stirred in the corpse, my corpse he thought with a tinge of feeling, was it anger? He wasn't sure... The black blotches that now pock-marked his skin were slowly pulsing, he floated closer, his curiousity drawing him back to where the body, his body, lay. Chill and lifeless.

The black spots were definately moving, shifting around on his cold ivory skin as if they had a life of their own... but then, that was what they had said wasn't it? Who are they? he thought, and the brief memory faded... vanishing in his confusion to be another dim memory itself...
The dark patches on his body were flowing out... out? he thought how? It seemed almost as if his body was burning, black gas was pouring out from the blotches on his skin to form a haze of mist around his lifeless body... He felt, rather than heard, the door to the room is it my room? he wondered; A man, the man that had been standing over him walked back into the room, and stopped, as if struck... the mist formed slowly around his body... he felt something... he didn't know what, a tugging perhaps? A snakelike arm of swirling gas, the thing from the blotches arced out as the man in the room swatted at it, passing through him, the man opened his mouth in a scream that Caldis could not hear and crumpled to the floor...

Weight, a feeling of weight or was it simply a pulling on his incorporal form... but then Isn't that what weight is? he thought; the mist around his corpse flowed out, forming a cloud around his body, almost protectively he thought, it hung there, in the air around his body, slowly swirling round and round... His felt his vision blurring, his vision of the room fading in a mist itself, darker and darker, as he strained to see more it only got darker, blacker into blindness... then he was falling... falling an endless distance down... down to where he did not know... he just knew he could feel what he supposed was the air rushing past him, thundering... his mind thickening, dulling, fading... then his senses left him... and he felt no more...

He awoke, in a room he could not remember, with a dead man by his bed, with the door swinging open to reveal some more people, their faces full of horror and alarm as he slowly sat up and looked at them, the cloud of dark vapour floating around him still. Weapons were drawn, the people hurling accusations at him, cursing him... he waved an arm at the people leave me alone he thought, and suddenly the mist flared up around him, floawing away from him with a roaring noise that only he felt, or heard...
Two of the people stood their numbly as the wave of dark swept over them, the other turned to run... but he never got any further all three of them fell to the floor, as lifeless as he himself had been only a little while ago...
He looked at his hands, stunned, as the mist flowed back rolled back around him, as if to comfort me... what am I? he thought, and then who am I?.
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