About Nyssalenna
I remember….
I remember when I was a High Ranking White Wizard.
I remember when I laid in the laboratory I had built in Southern Eldoth, leaving my body behind to experiment on how to affect the real world from the astral plane. That ritual was supposed to keep my body safe for weeks without need for rest or recovery while I experimented….
I remember when the magic twitched the wrong way and stopped working. The artefacts I used to protect my body were still working, for they were very powerful. They protected my body from everything except for the small link to my astral self that my ritual was supposed to sustain. But the ritual failed and the linked got severed….
I remember trying to pass the sphere of protection to regain my body. I remember failing time and time again. I remember calling for help with my most powerful spells and no one answered. I remember the rage, the desperation, the fear… I remember time passing, days and night, season after season, year after year. I remember the house above my laboratory crumbling down, burying the entrance under wooden beams and rubble.
I remember staring at my body, still preserved but slowly wasting. I remember losing my mind then regaining it…. I think I remember dying or maybe thinking that I was dead…
I remember all of that and more. Then I remember nothing.
Then I remember opening my eyes in the dark and the flickering lights of my laboratory coming to life one after another. There was still water dripping down the fountain. Enough to still the thirst of my wasted body. I crawled there and drank then vomited and drank more.
The room was still sound but reeked of humidity and fungus had developed everywhere, rotting away everything, from my spell books to my working table and any provision that I had stored were beyond use. But I still had my magic, I thought. And I prepared to cast a teleportation spell to send my back to a safe place outside. Nothing happened. I couldn’t even remember a single word. Oh, they were there, somewhere within the recess of my mind, but I could not access them anymore. There were still a few cantrips I could remember, and Mage hand made from my lack of strength. So, I drank and dug with my mind until I could crawl out.
There was nothing to salvage in the house but a few coins and half precious stones and an old rusted knife that I used to make a walking stick. The forest around me still hosted a few animals and I managed to kill a squirrel or two with something approaching a magic missile. Over the next days, I slowly recovered my strength and started experimenting with my memories of magic. Some spells were still imprinted in my mind and I found out I could cast them without a spell book.
