The Being floated in circles in the abandoned cathedral. It’s transparent, shimmering body refracted the sunlight into colorful spots, almost as if the stained glass windows hadn’t been shattered.

A psychemental is a being of pure emotion. Born of the intensity of humanity’s joy, anger and sadness, it has little purpose beyond feeding and observing.

The Being was a creature of grief and pain. It came into existence with massive death and sorrow, with a feeling of indescribable loss. It, weaved of ancient magic, was born as the magic of this world died.

All-seeing, it carried with it the memory of magic draining away from the city, the leylines drying out and shedding like old, uncared for oil paint.

Some remnants of the old magic remained, bright patches in some parts of the city, in the castle to the north. It was magic sealed in place, magic that could not create, magic that had no true life to it. Without owners to make use of them, they were destined to stay forgotten masterpieces in this dead world.

Some of the dying magic had bled into creatures, leaving corrupted ink stains on them and poisoning their psyche. Their emotions were raw, uncontained, full of rage and mindless hunger. The Being shied away from those, fleeing the danger.

There was also one that the Being wasn’t sure what to make of, stuck between living and canned magic. It wandered the city sometimes, but avoided the cathedral where the Being made home. It tasted of grief and hopelessness like the rest of the city, and the Being didn’t seek it out.

There was nothing it could show the Being that the Being hadn’t already seen.

With time, people returned to the city, bringing new colors and feelings with them. A traveler set up camp, bathed in blue watercolor. A researcher picked up an artifact and it shined with a dusting of fresh auburn crayon.

And yet curiosity inevitably turned to fear and death.

Unperturbed, it waited. One day, it would meet new magic, new emotions. Then, perhaps, it would leave, again excited to learn.

For now, it waited.

—–

Another short one after a missed day. Sorry. This one is vague and references so many of other days that I’m not going to even try listing those…