Instantly, a rush of mist flooded the small clearing outside of the temple. A figure formed from it, with shining silver eyes. The increasing humidity and heat made the surrounding air sticky and wet.
”What do I want?” the figure boomed, its crowd of voices uniting. Then they stopped. ”Well, freedom from this cage would be nice, but of course, you’ve already seen to that. It has been a millennia, and it may be a millennia more stuck in one space, forced to sit here like a lazy ox.” They laughed bitterly, while also giving Ignatius a glare. ”But right now, I would like to be pure. Free from tainted substances, gases… smoke. To be free from this heavy, old weight on me. Perhaps when they reach it, I will be freer than ever…”