Paranormal Phantasm Milton

Once, there lived a man named Milton.

Milton was born deep underground, to a tribe of isolationist humans. This group of humans had been led underground long ago by a group of monsters, who had taken them as slaves.

Most had perished during the first decade of their captivity. A strong core, however, survived and, eventually, adapted to living underground, in the darkness. Eventually, a group of different monsters attacked their masters, and the humans took the chance to rebel. In the end, they were successful, killing their former masters and earning their freedom.

However, by that point, many years had passed – indeed, almost none of the original captives were alive. Only their descendants were left. Those descendants had never seen the light of day, and they had no ties that bound them to the surface. Instead, they had grown up underground, and were quite used to the ecosystem there. And so, they decided to remain where they were, founding a small town of their own in a cave system.

This was where Milton was born. Like the rest of his community, he was supposed to live the rest of his life underground.

However, fate would be different for Milton. Although most of the original captives were dead, one remained by the time he was born – an old man, who had been just a child when he had been taken prisoner. It was this old man that often spent time with Milton, telling him stories of the surface – of the sun, of the trees, the animals, the small village he had once lived in.

Milton’s childish mind was able to create vivid images of this surface world, and he wanted nothing more than to visit it one day. But the moment he said as much to his parents, they immediately rejected such thoughts. Their home was in the underground, they said. Nowhere else.

Although Milton made a show of being convinced by them, his true opinions hadn’t changed. Throughout his childhood, he made plans for reaching the surface.

Finally, when he was about twenty years old, Milton was ready. He left behind a message to his parents, so they would find it after he was gone. Then, he left.

Milton didn’t actually know the way to the surface. But he had a trick up his sleeve.

The humans of his settlement had forgotten most knowledge they had once had of the above world, but they retained one thing: Alchemy. Indeed, they had even improved on that skill, using the materials found underground. Milton had taken care to learn many potion recipe, and he used those to find a way to the surface.

One potion helped him feel sensations on his skin – like air, which led him to climb higher. Another gave him darkvision, helping him see even better than he already could under the ground.

After days of traveling, Milton finally felt the sun on his face for the first time in his life. It was a joyous occasion, something truly amazing. It was also blinding – he had to wait for more than an hour to finally be able to move and see things.

In the years that followed, Milton used his alchemical knowledge to open up a store. He made friends with many mages and adventurers, and his life was good. But his mind always returned to his village – was there perhaps a way to convince his parents and everyone else to return to the surface too?

When Milton neared forty years old, he was told by some adventurers of a nearby ruin, one related to the monsters that had taken his ancestors as slaves. Curious, and thinking that perhaps he would find something connected to getting his people out of the underground, Milton decided to investigate. Using his potions, Milton made short work of the small threats in the ruins. Then, he began to search. Deep inside the ruins, he saw light.

There, in the middle of a platform, there was a flame. Something about it was strangely familiar to Milton – nostalgic, even. Primordial, perhaps. Without even thinking, he approached the flame. He wanted to touch it, to feel its warmth.

And touch it he did. The moment this happened, Milton changed – he was transmuted, changed by this sacred flame, but not in a way he immediately appreciated.

Milton became a spirit, a phantasm – able to see the world of the living, but not interact with it. What was more, it seemed as if those that knew him started to forget him almost immediately.

For years after this, Milton simply did nothing – so lost in sadness was he. Eventually, however, he made a discovery – he couldn’t influence the world of the living too much, but some people seemed able to hear him. Not fully, but enough.

And so, Milton knew what he had to do. He returned all the way back to his home, to the underground village where it had all began. There, he found a handful of folks who could hear him. Ready as ever, he went to work. He would guide his people to the surface.

Entered by: 0xdFeF…F0E3 and preserved on chain (see transaction)