I regained consciousness when I felt a gentle touch on my head. I turned to look at who was touching me when the memory of what happened flashed back. I strained trying to see, but of course without eyes there is no sight. Once again I felt the soft touch on my face, near my eyes. Disparate to hear anything, I listened and thought I could hear crying. My brain was not working right, I knew this, but hearing the young voice crying in the night I struggled to my feet.

I was in the Kradula, but I was in an orphanage, I had grown up in an orphanage and spent a lot of my time being the big brother to the young kids when they arrived. Feeling a small hand like shape grab my swollen fingers, I was led away but by what? I did not know and could not see. My headache was causing me to have walking blackouts and I was at the mercy of whoever was holding my hand.

Stumbling along I fell several times but managed to get up, always with the gentle touch on my fingers holding them and guiding me. Eventually I could go no more and stopping I slid down to rest finding my back supported by some kind of structure. Trying to thank whoever it was leading me, I realized I still had that damn muzzle on and could not speak. After some time, I am not sure how long I felt a stronger hand grab my arm and force me to rise.

Once again we made our way down the pathway, stopping occasionally when I could go no further, until we finally arrived, at a house, a building I could not tell. Hearing a door open I was again guided forward and then pushed against something. At this point I felt a pressure on my shoulders and sat down, once sitting an arm went around my back and under my legs and I was lowered to a rest on some kind of table.

My state of disconnect continued and I felt my head swimming, my thoughts were adrift in pain and turmoil. I could hear a door open, but could not process the words that I heard next. “Well, you are all kinds of messed up.” Swinging my head around I tried to speak, but the damn muzzle gave my words the sounds of a mad zombie. “What did they do to you, you must have really made the Gods mad. Suddenly I felt a hand at the back of my neck and the clasp was opened and the muzzle fell to the ground.

I wanted to thank whoever was helping me, but the first words I uttered were “water please.” After having someone or something dribble water into my mouth I felt amazingly refreshed. The pain was still there and the difficulty thinking, but still that water worked better than any healing potion. Finally able to say thank you to whomever was assisting me, I tried to sit up. A gentle hand held me down and the Voice spoke again. “Boy you are looking worse than any of us. With that muzzle on and your bloody eye sockets dripping, you frightened the poor young shades here.

I nodded and tried to speak, “sorry, I had no choice, I was thrown into this.” All Good boy, all good, in fact it saved you. You looked enough like a poor Zombie that the mists and haunts thought you were one of us, or about to become one of us. That is why they brought you to me, to ease your passage to our side of the veil.

“I am sorry sir, I do not understand my head is all messed up, have I joined you across the veil, am

I dead. I feel a lot of pain and if this is death, then I guess there is a hell.” “Lad believe me there is a hell, however this is not it. You are in pain because you were tortured, and then thrown into the Kradula to die. Whoever did this had no intention to have you live.”

“Listen son, I do not have the power I had when I was alive, but I will do what I can for you. Before I was a monk here at the kradula, I had spent years as a traveling shaman seeking wisdom. I will try to cast a healing spell on you. Know though that the power goes with death, and I should have gone with it, but I stayed for the sake of the little ones here. What I have left I will give freely to you.

With that I could feel the ghostly shaman, place his hand on me and begin to chant. The once powerful healing spell eased my heads pain somewhat but could do no more. Looking down at me the old ghost spoke again. “I am sorry lad I cannot give more. This vaporous’ shell just cannot hold or direct the elemental energies any longer it is just too weak to contain the power.

Nodding my head I whispered “thank you” and then fell asleep on the table. The old shade stared at me shaking his head and looking puzzled. Glancing down at the mist like figure of a small child he smiled and spoke, “I know little one, he is standing on the doorway, he might become a part of the Kradula or he might not. Only time will tell.”

Coming awake brought no peace or light to me. My eyes could not open and I could not see. The old shade had splinted me arm, above and below the break. My head was healing; the little power remaining in the shamanic spell had done enough to take care of the concussion. Emotionally, something was broke, my mind wandered and I could not feel any depth to my emotions. Days had passed and I simply sat in the lotus position. I had tried to meditate but my thoughts and feelings were shallow and sporadic.

I listened to the sounds of the Kradula, the soft steps of the small children and the heavier footfalls of the larger ghouls. I was briefly was curious about what had happened here and then that thought faded. After a time the old spirit of the shaman approached me, “Boy it is time for you to do something or you will fade away and join us forever.” “What can I do I am blind,” I tried to shout but the worlds came out soft and without emotional feeling. “Yes you are but not having eyes does not make you blind.

How do you think elementals see?” “Do they have two soft and squishy pieces of meat to see with? They are made out of rock.” “My friend Laeki was a rock elemental that could see so much more than I.” “Then call him and ask him how he sees, because if I could see I could have my vengeance and that is the one thing that keeps me going in this dark and desolate place.”

Feeling somewhat ashamed at my outburst I turned towards the old shade and apologized. “No boy I must apologize, for I see what you cannot both physically and mentally. “I will call Laeki, and perhaps with his help you will see once again.

Once again my thoughts were washing around in a sea of confusion and doubt, the only strong feeling I had was one of anger perhaps even hate, when I thought of the Jackass and the people who had joined his house.

As I sat there I heard a deep rumble and then a click clock of heavy movement and felt a presence stop in front of me. “What have they done to you little brother?” the words were slow and heavy, I instinctively knew that whoever it was in front of me was ancient, far older than anyone I had met Ingame.

“Who are you?” my voice had an odd inflection to it, I felt like I should know this ancient being, but the knowledge was floating just out of my grasp. I am Laeki, the friend to Shaman Oaktree; he has called me up from the depth of my home to ask for help for you. “Can you give me my sight back?” I asked, my voice cracking. I could tell he was staring at me, evaluating me. “I can help you but we must return to mother, only she can heal the deep scars.”

“Who is mother and where is she?” I was eager to go anywhere if there was a chance to see again. Again I was aware that he was observing me, so it did not surprise me when he said, “Come and see, you will remember all that is lost.” Suddenly a hand hard as rock grasped my shoulder and with a rumble we began to descend. “Where are we going Laeki?” perhaps because of my blindness I was aware that we were traveling at a great speed far faster than I had ever traveled, and we seemed to be heading down, straight down.