Shades in the mist

As he looked around more shapes and more figures became clear. All wearing armor and slowly starting to gain speed. Without realizing it, he found himself matching their pace and he could see them shout, but no sound passed through the fog. Suddenly he was in the middle of a silent battle, clad in whispy armor while wielding a sword and shield. He was barreling down on an enemy soldier, sword raised and coming down for a strike. The blows felt solid and everything looked like it was made of smoke.

Somewhere off to his left, the smoke erupted and a group of soldiers was blasted away by an unseen force. A shield slammed into his side knocking him down before he could see more. The one dead raised his own just in time to block a blow that would have gone through his chest. The back of his shield splintered slightly at the sword poked through and got stuck. Shoving it to the side he pulled its owner down using his own sword and rolled on top of them. Keeping their sword and arm pinned under his shield he hacked wildly trying to get a blow past his opponent's shield. Bashing into the shield and chipping away finally gave way to an opportunity and he went for the killing blow.

Just before it landed another explosion shook the world and suddenly, looming in the distance was a fortress and tower, shaking and emanating purple light. Part of the tower crumbled and fell as another battle, smaller but immensely more fierce and important, raged on deep below the ground.

At this point, the one dead had lost his helmet and was in a bit of a daze but the battle drew on. Silently people screamed, killed, survived, and died. The misty forms were tangled together in such intense combat, it was hard to tell the bodies apart. Soon the whole field looked like a mass of vaguely people-shaped smoke that would occasionally have part of it slump down to join the mist on the ground while more distinct soldiers took shape once more and moved on to other battles.

Yet in the chaos somehow he still felt his body pushing on to fight. Heading into one battle and the shapes suddenly became clear and distinct while he fought and helped another fight. Battle after battle his body moved on, part of this silent performance he couldn't escape from. He was both a detached watcher and actively fighting for his life. Some things blurred past and others were crystal clear. After what seemed like forever, and just as it seemed like his body was going to give out the ground started to shake and rumble. The fortress started to glow with violent purple light. At first, it seemed like it was trapped inside, pushing against the windows and bulging past as it tried to escape, but then all at once like a torrential wave, it blasted apart the walls and defenses.

Rubble and debris went flying past the one dead and into the smoke bodies of some others. Following just behind, the wave of purple swept up everything rapidly gathering all the fog and mist and pushing it away. It all happened so fast that before the one dead even had time to think about running for his life the fog and mist in front of the purple wave swept him up off of his feet. Tumbling and spinning in what felt like nothingness, the faces of the other soldiers passed by in front of him. Appearing out of the smoke, twisted and screaming as they slammed into him. Soon the fog and mist seemed to fade, only to be replaced by the glowing purple light until everything was nothing but swirls of purple.

Then as quick as it started it began to fade. The purple gave way to greens and browns as the grass and dirt beneath the one dead came back into view. Still dazed and confused he stood there watching with his purple eyes as the mist slowly finished floating toward him. Looking down at his hands, there was still a soft purple glow from his eyes washing over them, but not as bright and lantern-like as before. Gone was the armor and weapon made of smoke while his body had grown and become more lifelike. What looked like dull grey flesh had covered his arms and hands. His whole body now seemed to have flesh and density to it, more akin to a fresh corpse, rather than a withered skeleton. Touching it seemed strange as it felt hard and tough like bone, but as he moved his arms and fingers, they flexed and bent as normal skin would. It made all the details and subtlety of something soft while remaining hard.

Curious he turned back to the marshes and started walking to some of the shallow water at the edges. He was definitely heavier and sunk into the mud more as he made his way deeper in. At the edge of a pool of water, he crouched down and took a better look at his face and body. His eyes were now pale grey with bright purple iris' instead of just purple glowing lights. His face had more flesh and definition, but still not enough to pass as a living face or show distinguishing features of any kind. His mouth now showed lips and opening it showed an ashy tongue. He had no hair on his head or chin but didn't look young or old. His body was lithe and sickly pale grey in color. Not quite the color of rotting flesh, but close to it. His arms seemed slightly long, gangly, and moved with surprising flexibility. Standing up and looking at his legs they similarly had gained flesh and tone to them.

The one dead looked and felt far more solid than when he climbed out of the ruins of the ancient fortress. The light in the sky had started falling behind the trees in the west though. While he believed he could still make it to the eastern forest before dark, he knew there wouldn't be enough light to scout properly or get back to the ruins. So instead he made his way back to the top of the main hill and began finding a spot to sit and watch the night from.

He still didn't feel the need to eat or sleep, but his new eyes didn't cast as much light as before, so now night maneuvers weren't as easy or safe to accomplish. He felt the smarter plan would be to sit and take watch for the night and see if anything moves or passes through. He could also use the time to practice making sounds with his new mouth. There was still part of him inside that he felt he could use to make sounds like before, but using his body to talk seemed like it'd be the better and more natural-seeming option for the future.

Not long after the one dead reached a spot to sit and observe. In the last fading lights of the day, the tops of the trees looked to be bathed in purple light, rustling softly a faint breeze. The world slowly shifted in color and tone from brightness and yellows, to darkness and purples. Soon after that it became dark, lit only by the moon in the sky, with shifting shadows on the ground as wispy clouds passed in front.