…she remembered… the darkness… loneliness… and a voice among many…

Dakeria opened her eyes and looked at the blue sky. For a moment, she lay motionless. Then she realized her body was gasping for air… - wait, her body?

Indeed… she raised an arm.

Apparently, she had entered the world of the living

…Strange…

She took a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. After getting used to it, she tried to stand up. Her legs were shaky, and it took a few attempts to maintain her , she took her first steps – and fell into the grass.

Grrrr!

She felt the earth beneath her. Smelled the scent of flowers and heard the chirping of birds. Why was she here?She slowly looked around.

She found herself on a hillside bordered by trees. In the distance, she could make out a small village. The houses looked strange, as if they were directly connected to nature. Trees seemed to form entire parts of the buildings…

Ionia.

That was what this land was called.

How did she know that? Strange. It was as if this knowledge had always been there, as natural as ever.

Dakeria spotted a puddle and saw her reflection for the first time.

She had taken the form of a pale woman. Her skin was almost snow-white, as if she had never spent a single day in the light, and her hair was raven-black and so long that it fell past her hips. Her eyes were also pale – almost ice-blue, her reflection stared back at her. She could perhaps be from Freljord… if her body were more muscular and less delicate…

!

Where did all this knowledge come from?

She sat down and buried her head in her hands, trying desperately to remember SOMETHING…

…hadn't the Lost once talked about it?

The souls of the dead, brought to their realm by Kindred… where she ruled over them. It couldn't really be called ruling. Ever since her sister had blinded her at the beginning of time, she could not see her realm. But she felt the souls, heard their thoughts… while she herself was chained to her world.

The souls feared her. But she didn't know why. She was their mistress, yes. The realm of the dead was her home.

At least, it was until that spirit came, who refused to accept his death.

She tried desperately to remember what happened next.

She remembered chains. Darkness. Loneliness. Sahn-Uzal's lust for power.

And… after an eternity… other voices. Living voices.…that voice…Right.

There had been that voice.

One of many voices.

She heard it whisper… hateful, insane… but it was there. It had been her only companion for a long time. Now, it felt as if this voice had always been a friend. A friend who was no longer there…

Maybe this voice had called her. Maybe it was her destiny to find this voice. A naive thought, surely – but then at least she would have a goal.

She took one last look at this new, strange form in the water that she now represented. Dakeria seemed satisfied with her form. But she was overcome with shame as she realized she wore nothing. She frantically looked around for something to cover herself with - but found nothing. However, she noticed a black Poro panting at her curiously.

Dakeria glared at it. "What? Never seen a naked woman before?", she snapped.

She sighed. Now she was arguing with a Poro!

But it was strange that this Poro was black. Normally, Poros were white, fluffy, had four paws, a heart-shaped belly, tiny horns, and a big tongue. Something was different about this one, which only increased her discomfort.

Suddenly, she heard something - sounds of a fight, very close by. Dakeria hid as best she could in a nearby bush and prayed that no one would find her.

Just in time, for shortly after, a cart flew through the air and shattered not far from her.

She felt magic and saw a man approaching, laughing mockingly.

He walked to the remains of the cart and Dakeria saw a woman buried under it. She felt the life leaving her.

The man pulled her out and cut a medallion from her neck before breaking her neck and leaving satisfied.

So this was the world of the living?Dakeria didn't understand what was so great about it that she had been dragged from her realm.

However…

She looked at the woman's corpse. Her clothing was intact. And the dead woman wouldn't need it anymore.

Dakeria undressed the corpse - it was still warm - and quickly put on her clothes. Now she wore a wide black skirt adorned with silver ornaments, and a hip scarf decorated with silver coin tassels. She also had a crop top with silver embroidery held together by a very short corset. She found a pair of long black gloves, a dark hood, and boots among the cart's remains.

Clothing of the Saltatio Mortis. An old sect that worshipped the Death Dancer.

… the Death Dancer… Yes, that had been one of her nicknames… The ancient goddess of death…

Now that she was here, Sahn-Uzal must have kept his deal…

She decided to investigate the cart further - maybe she would find something to help her survive in this very strange world.

And indeed - under some cushions, hidden in a compartment, she found a long sword - a cross between a saber and a katana, and a pouch of coins.

At least something.

She tied the scabbard and the pouch to her hip scarf and decided to leave this place.

But she hadn't counted on the black Poro. It sat directly in front of her and panted at her with big button eyes.

"I'm not taking you with me," Dakeria said, trying to get past the animal - but the Poro kept running right in front of her feet.

"I mean it. I already have enough problems," she said.

The Poro made a squeaky noise and wouldn't be shaken off.

Dakeria gave up, annoyed, "Fine," and stuffed the Poro into her hood. It climbed onto her shoulder and licked her cheek with its long tongue, making Dakeria look even more annoyed.

She flicked the Poro back into her hood.

Finally, she could move on. Who knows how many robbers were still out here. She needed to find shelter and set up camp before the sun went down.

Although she had never had a body, she knew it could get very cold.

Suddenly, a call rang out in the distance. A strange voice… she didn't quite understand what it said, but in her confused mind, it sounded like it was shouting "Sorry-you-get-dunked!" or something Like that into the wind. Or was it 'sorye ge ton?'. Hells, that guy really needs to work at his prononciation.

Curious, she followed the sound of the fight.

A swordsman had taken down the thief from earlier. He had brown hair, wore blue clothes… but that voluminous hairstyle seemed strangely familiar to her.

He looked at her uncertainly: "Who are you?"

She hesitantly stepped closer: "...Yasuo?"

He scratched his head: "Do we know each other?"

Dakeria blushed. Damn! How was she supposed to explain that the soul of his old master had talked about him?

"Uh… well… I… I've heard of you," she mumbled hesitantly.

"…I see," he said suspiciously.

Dakeria forced herself to stay calm.

Her first conversation with a living person!

Stay calm, very calm…

"Um… I got lost. Do you know if there is a settlement nearby?"

He pointed north.

"Thanks."

Silently nodding, he went on his way.

Quite taciturn. Somehow Souma's soul had described it differently. Whatever.

Dakeria turned and walked in the direction he had pointed.

Then she noticed the thief's corpse.

He still had the medallion on him.

Maybe it was valuable.

Dakeria didn't hesitate long and took it.

It was a golden pendant with a blue pulsating crystal in the middle.

Instead of delicate scrollwork, it was held together by many straight lines. It definitely didn't come from Ionia, that much was certain.

"- STOP!"

Dakeria heard the voice and felt a stabbing pain in her shoulder before she lost consciousness.