Painful, beautiful, and illuminating memories that are put to rest at The Isle of Forgetting grow here as fruits and can become warnings to those fit to receive them.  

Session 2

   

Blue

  You are you. You are hovering in the air, holding the staff you made, the top of which floats three human hands intertwined in a sphere that rotates. Flowers come out of the cracks between the fingers, blossoming, growing, dying, and sprouting again within a few seconds.   Below you, barely managing to stand on the floating rock, is Hagzdar, the Hunter. He is badly broken and burnt from your fight. He yells at you, "CUCKULUS! You may have bested me this time, but I'll be waiting for you in the after life. I will hunt you down, and then, your secrets will be mine."   You look down at this pathetic man and point a finger at him.   "There's just oooooooone little problem with that. I'll never die."   And his body starts to boil and glow green, and then he explodes.    

Circe

  Ervessa: You are underwater. You carry with you a bundle of treats in an airtight container that you are bringing to and old friend. But the path is too treacherous now that the doors don't work.   You swim through the ruins, guided by your moving lights; a risk you hope not to regret. Your perfect memory remembers every twist and turn of the old maps, but the monsters that claimed this city have a rearranged so much that it is unrecognizable.   From the corner of your eye: movement. You dim the lights and fit yourself into a small crack. You beg your heart to beat quieter as you see a large shimmering violet shape swim by. It starts to materialize: an eel-like creature made of bones and wisps of magic, with three glowing red eyes that are hunting something.   You stay still and silent for what may be hours before you decide to move. You shake your head and leave behind the treats, hoping they will be found, and you swim back to the surface.    

Del

   

Memory

  You are standing in an extravagant foyer, breathing deeply, as you just put on the most impressive display of your life, but you have never been more angry. The Golem of green crystal who has been at your side since the beginning stands across from you with their arms folded.   "What do you mean it's not enough?!" you yell at them.   "The power won't develop to its full potential in you. You knew this could happen."   "What's your alternative? Balli?! She doesn't have a thread of responsibility in her. How could she--"   And it's just now as you are realizing what is going to happen that your sister steps into the room, the light from the chandelier above her illuminating her messy brown hair and gold-blue eyes with an angelic glow. She gives you an almost apologetic smile and looks down at her hand, which is resting on a curve of her belly.   "The power must move on," the Golem says.    

Prophecy

  On the eve the great hammer falls,   the adversary will accept her invitation.   She will return with iron, echoes, and stars.     The chosen blood will blossom,   but without our protectors, will boil,   unable to diffuse, demolish, or devour.     The seas will struggle,   and be still.    

Ezre

    You are in prison. There are no cuffs, no bars. You bet that the door to the windowless room is not even locked. This ship doesn't need any of those. This ship will know of every move you make. You feel it lurch, as all ships do, but on the off-beats of waves, you feel a subtle pulse echo through it. Even for an Air Genasi like yourself, there is no escaping.   There are loud footsteps outside. This is it. You talk or you die.   The door opens. Your captor stands there, their grey cloak covering everything but the laced white gloves. Behind her, bound head to toe with chains that come from the ships floors and walls itself is your master: the stone golem, Guardian of Evocation and Keeper of the Evik Library: Euthron.   Your captor holds out their hands. You know what they want, but you refuse to give them the information. You feel a prying within your head and feel as if someone is tearing through your mind like a robber thrashing a room. You become faint, and the ship's heartbeat pounds in your head. It is too much: she will find what you are guarding, and it will be the end.   But then there is a bright burst of light and an explosion. You snap to your senses, the grasp on your mind released, and you look up to see Euthron's hand extended, palm out, facing a massive hole that was blown through the wall behind you. The ship is already starting to repair itself, and as much as you want to help your master, you know what she wants you to do. You jump out the hole, calling the winds to you and fly as fast as you can away.   The last thing you see is those white laced gloves take a purple crystal and jam it inside Euthron's head.   You pray they never find you.      

Liam

    You have your hand held up in front of you, but it is not your hand. It is orange and furry, with a few burnt patches where the fur no longer seems to be growing. Your hand is up against a swirling barrier of smoke that you are unable to see or reach through. It's been years and no one has been able to get in or out. No communication has successfully functioned, or if it has, everyone on the inside is unable to reply back. Or they choose not to.   You look up at the stone titan that towers over the barrier: scale in one hand, hammer in the other. You used to look at this monument for reassurance, for comfort, for hope, but now it just brings you sorrow, and anger. You realize your fangs are biting through your lip: the terror of what could have happened to your family inside manifesting again in self-destructive ways.   There is a shout from behind you that startles you, and you fall back into your boat. There is a blue dragonborn coming towards you on a small military vessel. He has curved horns and a scar running up from his chin and across his right cheek, and wears a military cloak, but one of the general ones, so you did not know which part of the military he worked for.   He looks up at the titan as well and shakes his head. You stand up and dust off your lab coat.   "Who are you?" you ask.   "It's about time you return home," the Dragonborn says, "Your family has waited too many years."   You make an exaggerated motion towards the barrier that encompasses the whole island.   The Dragonborn nods and then pulls a pouch out of his pocket and tosses it to you. You do not need to open it. You know the bullets are inside.   "Come back. Finish the project. Once you do," the Dragonborn copies your motioning, but with an irritating elegance, "None of this will be a problem."   You know the consequences of this. You know it would be a mistake. And you know that with the big picture in mind, that it would not be worth it. You know that no one, including your family, would want you to go through with this. You know that this is not an option.   But you board his ship.      

Sieg

    You are a demon. You have been leading your people through an icy landscape in the Plane of Water. It has been weeks, and many have fallen to the cold, but this seemed to be the only viable escape, as you could not be free in Mendor. There are a few dozen of you left, but the door to freedom is in sight. You and your comrades eagerly charge towards it, the promise of warmth mustering up a surge of strength in your worn bodies.   But then you see the tip of a golden blade appear in the air. It arcs, followed by a light that slices reality and opens a portal portal. A person steps through: a dragonborn with glowing blue skin that is semi-transparent and seems to reveal stars inside. She wears golden armour and a violet cape. She is followed by an army of similarly dressed soldiers that immediately hack through your comrades. You hear screams of anguish and desperation, and you know you have to save who you can.   You and those fast or lucky enough sprint towards the door out of this plane. You take a second to look back and lock eyes with the dragonborn. She gives you a smile, the type of which you are used to giving: one that categorizes you as prey, a target in a lengthy game of cat and mouse, but one that you will lose.   You take the head start, and enter a new land, the screams of your allies fading behind you.