Xade opened his eyes to prismatic waves of light, and stared, confused, at the ever-changing realm. He lifted his nose to scent the air, finding an utter lack of smells, and realizing in the process that he seemed to have lost his physical form. Misplaced it somewhere. How odd, he reflected dully, that no part of this was concerning. That in of itself, was paradoxically enough, worth being concerned over. Seeing as he felt no such thing, the most he could give the thought was a mental shrug.
It occurred to him that he might be dreaming. He'd never had one so vivid and strange as this, but there was a first for everything, right? That's what he'd been told. So perhaps this was a peculiar dream, one that had just become lucid upon his recognition of its nature. He'd read about lucid dreamers. It sounded fun, falling into a sub reality in one's mind and gaining control over it. Maybe he could try; after all, he'd already gotten the first step done. Imagine if he could manage something like this! At last he'd have something impressive to his name.
So he reached out with his mind, and wracked it for something to change this dreamscape into. A simple forest or a fantastic mountaintop? A dangerous cave with lurking evil, or an island hiding buried treasure? He decided upon his first idea, and set out to create a ground beneath his lack of feet. It failed. No trace of dirt appeared, nor blade of grass. He stared down at the place his feet would have been, a flicker of disappointment within him.
An object, then? It was possible, as far as he knew, that he simply wasn't ready to create entire dream worlds. He didn't exactly know the inner workings of intangible lucidity. Starting small may well be the way these things were meant to go, he reasoned. Xade blinded himself to the light, and concentrated harshly on the image of an acorn. He saw it clearly, knew its weight and the feel of its shell. Saw its color and thought of its taste. He sensed each and every detail clear as day, or a fresh mountain stream. He sent his will out into the rainbow void, then opened his ethereal eyes to see…
Nothing. Drat. There was no change in the slightest to his scenery. No acorn floated before him. No piece of brown shell. Could it be then, that this was no dream he'd found himself in? If that wasn't the case, what in the world was going on? Had he met his end? It didn't feel likely to his foggy instincts. While he was essentially a soul in a prism void, he'd been in no sort of danger, last he could recall. But was his intuition trustworthy?
Now that he thought of it, Xade couldn't recall where he'd last been, or what he'd been doing. He tried and tried to remember, but nothing came to mind. He'd the strong notion that he was safe before arriving here, with no battles or sickness to take him from the mortal plane. Could he be mistaken? This beautiful realm and overwhelming calmness in his core… But this couldn't be all there was to the afterlife. Surely, it would grow tiresome after a while?
There was a voice that resonated in his lack of ears. It was so faint at first that he couldn't make anything out. It was soft and distant, and he listened intently, hopeful that its owner would come bearing answers. He needed all he could get at this point. The voice was straining, struggling with every ounce of its strength to get through to him. Was there some kind of problem? What could be holding them? Was there a danger in this realm of colors that he had failed to notice? Why then would he feel so peaceful, if there was something out for his blood? The blood that he didn't quite have at the moment?
He started to pick out syllables, then fractions of words. When all was spoken clear enough, he found himself no closer to understanding.
"Can you hear me? Please, we need your help."
What do you need from me?
"Ah, there you are! Come forth. We need you…"
"… we need you to save the human world."
