Nova Peak i have had horrible nightmares ever since

the early morning is clear; devoid of clouds, allowing the moonbeams to splay across the landscape unfettered. it illuminates his path as the scorched kommandant weaves like the phantoms he is named for thru the soft mist that kisses the forest floor, brushing against the needles of the evergreens, frost glimmering off the emerald grasses and needles at the base of the peak where he presently dwells. he keeps a steady gait, drawing in the comforting touch of the moonlight upon his back as he drifts out from the shadows of the evergreens —

— only to come to an abrupt halt.

the north half of the forest is as scorched as he; trees blackened skeletons, some broken halfway up their trunks. the earth is scarred, devoid of grasses. pupils widen in their mismatched irises, breath trembles out unevenly from betwixt his lips.

he is frozen; a soft wail of horror dragging itself from deep within his chest.

geist trembles from head to toe; choking on black and engulfing smoke that only he can see, trembles from the blistering heat that only he can feel; ears plaster against his skull as the screams of the woodland creatures unfortunate enough to be stuck in the flames as he was are left to the unmerciful whims of hellfire.

abruptly, he understands why he was drawn here; the haunting becoming so effortlessly and so helplessly the haunted.