Soul Reaver
The tunnel was desolate and grim, its walls slightly lit as the old man passed. His
candle flickered wildly as a gentle breeze blew past him. With one arm, he cradled a
small sphere of light close to his chest. The tunnel twisted endlessly, and finally
opened into an extensive hall of a sort. The hall was surrounded by thousands of
shelves carved into the circumfrancing stone surface, the layers reaching up farther
than the eye's ability to count. The ledges held hundreds of spheres about a foot in
length apart of the same nature as the old man's, each emanating its own faint ring of
light.
The old man came to a small fountain that laid atop a thin column no taller than his
waist.The still water glistened in the soft light of the orbs. He stood over the fountain
and the translucent water rippled as an image of Earth appeared on the surface. The
faint sound of whispers echoing through the chamber grew as the old man peered
into the fountain. Cupping the radiant sphere in his palms, he gently laid it on the
crystal water, the sphere remaining perfectly balanced on the surface of the pool. The
old man stepped back and gripped the fountain's edge.
"Until you join us again, my child," he whispered quietly. "Our halls will await your
return."
The orb slowly sank into the water and disappeared. The image of Earth blurred as
the water rippled once more, and finally faded from sight. He lifted his gaze to
darkened skies above. The sky was barren except for the soft glow of the double
moonscape. Stars were shielded by a layer of clouds reflecting the night. He suddenly
felt his strength grow weaker. With every soul he made, a portion of his strength was
allocated to it. But his strength was not important in his mind. He knew someday his
life force would fail altogether from the lack of strength, but the souls were all that
mattered. Creating new life gave him a new strength, the power of heart. If his body
did indeed fail, his love would continue forever, burning within the souls of his majestic
halls.
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