Torture

The scent of flowers lingered in my nose, petals riding along the breeze. The horizon a clear aquamarine, the rays of the sun kissing my skin with warmth. The weeds danced beside my bare feet, the soil moist with dew. 

A woman stood before me, hair the color of snow. So long it drifted with the wind as if they were one. 

My heart constricted and no matter how hard I try to speak, my mouth won't move.

She smiled, sweetly and fondly. In an instant, I was filled with overwhelming emotions. I wanted to cry. But couldn't. 

A graceful hand went to her chest and once she drew it toward me, a ball of golden light hovered over her palm. There were glowing runes etched upon it. 

The Pure Light. 

As if in instinct, I reached for it, the gleam of the power painting my skin gold. But just as I was about to touch it, the brilliance went out.