(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

Ravel's finger peeled back, and she looked at me sadly. "Oh, sad, sad, broken
half-thing. All-a-pieces." She squinted at me again. "No longer the one Ravel
knew are you... are you still a-broken, after all this sad, sad time?"
"Broken? What do you mean?"
"A body you possess, but a body of knowledge you do not?" She pointed her
ragged talon at my chest, at my scars. "Many and such, such scars you have,
all a-scrawled on your skin. Many tales does your skin tell."
"What tales does my skin tell?"
"Your scars and tattoos shout to me, 'here is a man in confrontation with the
world.'" Ravel made a crooning noise, not unlike a dying bird. "Yes, such
tales as would shrivel even a hag's ears..."
"Tell me these... tales. I would know them."
"The tales are many. They echo of balance imbalanced, trials of war, battles
with fiendish elements, and a creature that feeds on others from a-far to
sustain itself... and of torments. Such torments flesh has never known..."
"Balance Imbalanced?"
"Divided in two you were, when your mortality was peeled from you. No
longer balanced, much a-broken in the separation... both a blessing and a
mistake... but more mistake than blessing, Ravel thinks."
"You took my mortality? How?"
"Forgotten the how of it, I have... have I?" Ravel's gaze dimmed for a
moment, the black veins swimming in her eyes. "And even if I a-membered
it, I would never do it twice. Not forgotten the moment have I, after the
break, a-seeing the pain stream from your veins, your cries like a wailing
child, every bit of your being filled with emptiness. Terrible, even for these
eyes."
I mentally probed that space inside, felt the jagged edges along that border
between being and nonbeing. The void beyond always made me shudder,
and now the emptiness sang even moreso.
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