Two: he was dead. This was the second most obvious concept. But still, unlikely, as from his decades of studying the afterlife he never once heard of an outcome like this. It was well accepted, thanks to his profession and abilities, that there were only two outcomes to death. Those who followed in the footsteps of their god and creator, Hyvale, would be granted life in the New World after death. While those who shunned their creator, and lived a rotten life were cursed to wander the Red Sands of Coreterra for eternity. The dead, and Godless planet that hung above their own.


    This, whatever this was, clearly was neither. It seemed a place beyond the Endless itself, stripped away from the world he once called home. Perhaps this was a special punishment, one only he was admitted to because of some heinous act he’d committed whilst he was alive. But what could he have done, if anything at all? This led him to the next most reasonable string of thoughts: What had become of his memory?


    Digging into himself, he began to search for something within. Fragments of memories flew by like comets, too hot and bothered to stop for him to truly analyze. It felt like sifting for gold in an endless dune sea, wave after wave of sand crashing down onto him and forcing him to restart.


    Stolen story; please report.Uttral pushed through the crowd just in time to watch as one of the Purgers raised its massive flat foot and stomped down on Bayels head. No final words, or goodbyes. No cries of anguish or screams for help.


    As the wave of Purgers descended over him, he hummed his final spell. Reality broke away from him, his soul ejected just as a crooked sword tore through his neck. He screamed out in panic as he floated backward into the air, watching the swarm tear through those around him.


    His expression was flat, completely neutral. Uttral had no time to ponder as the Endless slipped off the bone, and his mind returned to himself in a world of darkness.