You step onto the haunted shores, and gaze up to see an unnatural swirl of sickly greens and blacks. You can’t help but feel as though something is reaching for you from above—an invisible, twisted presence, extending its horrid grip and creeping its fingers around your soul. And perhaps, it had already succeeded to some degree. You didn’t feel right in this place. Beneath your feet, the sands squirmed, and crawled, shifting out of the way of each step, which made walking difficult. You were relieved to finally be off the beach. The ground here, solid, and for a moment things almost seemed to be normal. That changed when you tried to lift your foot, and found the grass gripping, and clawing at your leg, trying as hard as it could to pull you down. You rip free of its grasp, and begin to run, awkwardly stumbling along, until you collapse onto a cold stone surface. In front of you, sitting in the center of the island, was a massive stone pillar, that reached up as far as you could see. Every inch of its surface was covered in glowing orange runes, made up of long elegant swirls, dancing in a strange harmonic contrast with sharp and brutal angles. You slowly approach, and place your hand up against the stone. Your eyes open, burning the same fiery orange as the tower, and you see it. There was something in the sky, orange and fiery. It was like a sun, but unstable, and collapsing, pouring down like an invisible orange rain, seeping into the ground, and springing the island to life. You could feel the drops falling onto your face, and soak into your skin, coursing through your being, and pooling up at your soul. Yes, this was the thing you felt before, reaching for you. You stand there is awe and silence for a moment, and then your hand moves without you. You find yourself walking back towards the shore, unable to stop. Your movements were jerky, and unnatural, like a puppet on strings. Once you reach the sands, they shift out of your way, and you collapse into the pit it had dug for you. The sand begins to fall back into place, and bury you underneath. For a moment, you notice it once again, that presence in the sky. It was all around you. Not like the rain, that fell aimlessly from the sky, nor like the grass desperately hanging on, and not like the sand passively moving out of the way. No, it felt more like hundreds of puppets, whose strings had been cut, left buried under the sand. [spoiler]Living islands! Yay! (I didn’t proof-read this at all, and wrote it while I was somewhat distracted, so it might be totally stupid!)[/spoiler]