Ascent of a Dragon

A long, thin shadow swipes across a dimly lit room. Dark hands protrude from the shaded form, grasping at the numerous vials and pouches scattered across the room, mixing their contents together while tweaking the many strange devices at dazzling speeds. Pops become sizzles, become crackles as ingredients are added, shaken, and stirred into large cylindrical container.

As the mixture changes form and begins to bubble the shadow pulls itself from the ground, looming over its concoction, watching with the two pure white orbs glowing from its head. After a moment of observation, the shadowy figure places an outstretched hand into the goopy mixture, pulling out a palm sized glob which it then molds carefully into a solid, gray egg.

Leaving the egg to rest on a small pedestal, the shadow calmly flows towards the sole source of light in the room, a glass door showing off a dazzling array of lights chaotically scrambling upwards and out of sight, bathing the room in their soft glow. The orbs fill the room with a low melodic hum as the figure stands before them.

White orbs peer into the lights, watching, searching, analysing. Two orbs become one, become three as they track each light with pinpoint accuracy. Each of the dozens of lights surfing their way up the river is carefully observed and taken stock of within the span of a blink, save for one.

"How odd." The figure muses to itself, its wispy voice echoing across the room. "For a soul to be able to peer back at me... Has your ego been preserved?" Placing a shadowy hand through the door, the figure gently takes hold of the sole light refusing the flow of the rest. Tiny flakes splinter off the several cracks woven around the diminutive soul as its pulled through the glassy film separating the river of lights from the room.

"A fragile one indeed." The figure's eyes condense into one focused point. "Your form has been maintained, yet somehow damaged. I cannot imagine what form of assault could achieve such a feat, though I do not suppose you are in a position to tell me, are you?" A wavy chuckle emanates from the figure, shaking the room and harmonising with the clatter of glass and metal.

Gently resting the soul in a cage of silver metal, the figure begins pulling at the various levers and knobs nearby. Every so often the figure will pause, pale eyes taking in every detail of the soul before them, a hand providing it the occasional prod for good measure. The soul shifts, changing between blue and red, from spherical to cubic, bright to dim, and back to it's natural turquoise glow. On occasion the soul flickers in protest to a change, eliciting a small chuckle from the shadow.

Satisfied, the figure nods, or at least its eyes bob down to imply the action. "You're almost perfect for what I need. A soul unattuned to any energy, yet still robust enough to handle the procedure. How you managed this is beyond me, though I suppose I need not know." The figure raises a hand to where it's chin should be, mimicking a thoughtful posture. "This damage however is an issue. I know nothing of repairing damage to a soul, nor how such a thing is even possible. If you cannot handle the whole process... you may be shattered."

The soul flickers in defiance, glowing brighter and brighter until its glow fills the room, before petering out. The figure's eyes expand, before warping up into crescent moons, a thin white line drawing itself across its face creating a wide grin. "Very well then."

The figure cups two hands around the soul, enclosing the light completely before carrying it to the egg, still resting on its pedestal. Holding its hands over the egg the figure squeezes.

A resounding crack shatters across the room as small shards leak out from the shadow's hands, bouncing harmlessly off the egg before scattering into nothing. The figure swiftly presses the two hands into the egg, morphing them around to encompass it without seams.

Moments pass by in near silence as flickers of light threaten to burst forth from the egg, only to be smothered by the shadowy hands embracing it. Moments become minutes, become hours, perhaps even days. Only the dancing glow from the river of souls and the occasional spot of light breaking free from the egg to indicate the passing of time.

After a length of time, perhaps known only by the shadow, the hands finally release their grip to reveal an obsidian egg, refracting the soft ambient light into an almost ethereal purple glow. The figure's eyes, which had narrowed to focused pinpoints, relaxed to their natural size before curving into a grin.

"A resounding success!" The figure's voice becoming clear, flowing out like a fresh spring as it claps its hands together. "I commend your fortitude little one, and I wish you luck on your journey. Find me at the deepest point and I will provide you assistance with your goal."

"Farewell, little soul."