What I've Seen. . .

"Are you alright?" A voice asked. I didn't know who it was. Such an obvious observation, but just after seeing myself, and then falling back into some man's chest left me alert and defensive inside.
"I'm fine," I turn around and look at the man who stopped my fall. He was tall, at least a foot and a quarter taller than I. He had a beard that went down to his collar, that was surprisingly dark blue. And his eyes had a slight glow; amber-like eyes that glowed softly. And his skin was dark. Very dark. No, wait. . . was it. . . purple?!
"I'm just tired, that's all."
"Well, let me help you with that mirror then."

I wasn't sure who, or what, he was. I really didn't see anything other than myself and some people bumbling around in some strange building. Still, I was struggling with the mirror, and quite honestly he could probably handle it better than I. "Alright, here you go." I handed the mirror over to him, and I was right about the purple-like skin and the ability to easily handle the mirror. He turned his head to the left, looking down the path I was headed on. He had elf ears. Long and pointed, with the same dark blue hair that went down to his shoulders. He must be a Dark Elf or something like that.

"So stranger, what's your name?" I asked. He didn't look at me, just followed while looking ahead.
"Wrael." He replied. I was expecting some super long and tongue-twisting name. I won't complain to know someone with a short name. I really was tired. My thoughts made no sense. Why in the world would I care to observe someone's name?
"What are you?" I ask bluntly. He looks at me with a puzzled look.
"You don't know what I am? How could you not know?" He was now even looking more puzzled, his eyes scanning me. I just looked at him, telling him with my gaze to answer the question.
"A Night Elf," he tells me, "haven't you ever met one?"
"No." I wasn't sure what I would tell him. The question never came. He never asked how I didn't know what one was.

The rest of the walk was in silence. I would glance at him occasionally, but he never seemed to look at me. I honestly didn't care. I just met him on the street, and he offered to help carry a mirror. When we arrived at the inn, I took the mirror and thanked him. We parted, and I went to my room. I put the mirror up above the table like I had planned. It looked good. While the surroundings seemed pretty bland, this contrast of elegant and ornate beauty on the wall seemed to make it work somehow. Somehow.

I sat at the table and stared into the mirror for a long time. The candles on the table began to flicker. My eyelids began to droop. The air went cold and still. The edges of the mirror started to frost over, slow creeping towards the center. My eyes opened enough to see that it surrounded where my face was. In the frost I saw a face. Someone I recognized all to well, but I could not put a name to the face for the life of me. And my life it was.

I wanted to jump to my feet and put my dagger to its throat, but I was paralyzed completely. The image faded, and I fell back off my chair, and darkness consumed my vision. I then saw it all over again.

I held in my hand a sword. A relic, a legendary item of immense powers. The two figures in front of me were still shrouded in black, and I couldn't make them out at all. But one approached me, and swiftly. I dodged a swing from what might be a scythe, but before I could react, it pivoted over itself, and planted itself in front of me. A foot connected with my stomach, and I was launched backwards. 

I reached desperately as I fell off the edge. But it was no use. I fell, and this time I saw it all. Every last second of it. I smashed onto rocks, bones snapping and cracking. I had no control. The armor I wore ripped and tore, flying off into the infinite mist that surrounded me. My skin was no longer protected, and the bullets of water stung as it struck me. Everything happened so fast. I hit rock after rock, jagged, and bloodied by me. And then came the final stop. I wouldn't bounce off and fall ever into the infinite descent. No, I would just hit, and whatever's left would be beyond dead.

I shot awake, my stomach heaving. I wept and trembled. I felt so alone, and only my reflection was here. What did I just see. I spat into the garbage can, quaking, feeling so numb and afraid. I curled upon my bed. I wish I had someone here right now. Even that elf. Wrael. I eventually fell asleep, unable to cry or throw up anymore. I guess I really did die. I guess I really am dead. "I'm not dead. I'm not dead. . ."