Author's note: I'm sorry it's so short, but it's only the prologue, chapters in the future will be much longer. Please read and review, constructive criticism more than welcome. Enjoy!
Pain, the whole world was pain, burning, throbbing, stinging, it knew no end. Greg's eyes flew open and he screamed. He saw a ceiling of stone above him clearly before the edges of his of his vision began to darken. His pain began to melt into the blackness that grew in front of his eyes. His tortured body began to relax as he slipped back into unconsciousness. The last thing he saw was a huge face bending over him, it seemed to be made of mobile stone studded with red gems. Greg thought this strange, and then he thought no more as his mind sailed into the black oblivion of the subconscious.
Time passed, but Greg had no way of telling it. He was unconscious for most of the time, sometimes slipping in and out of wakefulness. Whenever he awoke it was always to the same stone like face and ceiling, but also to the feeling that his body was no longer solid, but liquid like, moving and flowing. He longed to speak to the face to have some of his questions answered, but always the burning pain brought on the waves of black that swept him to oblivion before he had the chance to even recall what his questions were. Once he awoke to find that the burning pain and the liquid sensation gone. He lay there wondering what was actually happening not even moving his eyes from the ceiling for fear that the pain would return. Suddenly searing pain shot up his right arm to hit the base of his skull like a bolt of lighting, and darkness descended once again. The next time he awoke he once again felt no pain, but he did not fearing that if he did the pain would return. Then, lying there with closed eyes he heard voices, and his heart jumped, for it seemed like he had never heard a voice before, and he lay still to listen.
"It is indeed quite the creation," a deep gravely voice was saying in admiration.
"Yes, I have spent quite a bit of energy in its making," said a softer but no less commanding voice. Greg wondered what it was they were talking about.
" I don't know why you couldn't have made him the perfect Dunmer instead of the perfect man," a very lordly voice commented dryly. And with a shock Greg realized that he was the object of the voices' interest.
" Not all of us share your interest in the Dunmer Lord Azura," the soft voice said evenly, "Besides he was a man to begin with." Greg reasoned, with growing curiosity, that this must be the voice of his creator.
"Have you tested him yet?" asked the coarse voice curiously.
"Not yet, but I was intending to test him when he wakes up."
"Why not test by just having him enter regular life Kran." Azura said calmly.
"That's not a bad idea, but I don't have the power left right now to do that."
"Won't that hand be a problem?" asked the gravely voice cutting in.
"I don't think so," Kran said dismissively, "but Azura will have to be the one to do it. I'm drained right now." Greg curiosity overcame him and he opened his eyes. Three of the seemingly rock hewn faces were leaning over him, staring at him intently.
"I think I had better do it now then," Azura replied "He seems to have awakened and cut our study short." And leaning in close to Greg he stared intently at him. Greg found himself getting lost in the red of those gemlike eyes. It enveloped and surrounded him until his whole world was red. He seemed to be falling, then suddenly strange landscapes flew past beneath him and foreign words chanted in his ear, finally more red and the sound of water filling his ears. He was drowning. He was drowning in blood!