The woman in blue.

Isabis felt tired, sleepy and overall worn down. She passed the fountain at the Cathedral Square. Normally she would run her hands through the cool water, but even that thought felt like it would consume too much energy. The sound of rushing water reminded her of the rainfall common in Gilneas, and for a moment she could swear she was standing in that cool, refreshing rain. It felt so realistic it had even send a shiver down her spine, the same feeling one would have being on the edge of a dream, falling, and then abruptly being pulled back to being awake. Isabis understood the necessity of rain. If there was one element she would prefer, it would be water.

“No water, no life” Isabis said with a drowsy voice.

She sighed a sigh resembling someone being old. Her eyes were constantly trying to focus, her eyelids felt heavy and the feeling of wanting to close them was overwhelming.

“No, no.” she said to herself.

For a moment all the sounds from the square became dull, as if the sound waves were hopelessly trying to make their way trough a thick patch of wool. Isabis had the feeling she was blinking in slow motion, this feeling was so awkward she wanted to panic, but she found herself pinned to the ground.

Everyone on the square slowly turned their heads towards Isabis, all of their expressions the same. They looked desperate and in pain, their eyes were gone. Black gaping holes resembling an infinite blackness, a black vapour dispersing from their eye sockets. Their mouths wide open and their tongues sticking out. They slowly moved towards Isabis, and with every step their bodies twisted and bones broke due the unnatural positions they forced their bodies in.

“…”

Isabis forced her head to the entrance of the Cathedral, hoping for something or someone to pull her from this horrid experience. That moment a bright flash of light exploded on top of the staircase. The source of light showed the full spectrum of colour. The brightness scared the now deformed beings who were slowly making their way to Isabis. From the light glided a young woman wearing a bright light blue robe set with golden thread and golden pearls.

Her hair was a source of beautiful shining light, covered in beads and precious stones. Her eyes glowed with a bright blue hue. Her skin was smooth, without any imperfection. Behind her back, transparent wings generated a warm flow of air. She floated to Isabis, her feet not touching the ground. The light she emitted seemed to be humming, it sounded angelic and peaceful. The twisted beings attempted to flee, but simply dispersed in the radiance of the woman in blue.
The woman reached out her hand to Isabis.

“Take my hand, child!” the angelic being said.

Isabis looked at the perfect hand. The nails were perfect, the skin smooth and emitting the beautiful light the foul beings around her feared. The moment the woman reached out her hand, Isabis’s body unlocked. She could move again, and that feeling neared perfection. For a moment every cell in her body yelled to her to take the hand so she would be released from this nightmare.

Her fist planted itself into the woman’s right cheek. The light show ended within a second. The whole square vibrated, like heat rising in the distance on a long road. The woman fell from her floating position, to her knees. She laughed eerily, her voice now deepening and masculine like.
Isabis was breathing heavily, perhaps taxing her decision, but her decision was wise indeed.

“Clever little girl” the woman said.

The former beautiful being shifted into the old hag, her tome now becoming the in mist engulfed grimoire. The wings making place for shadowy like deformed patches of skin.

“Clever little…” the words faded.

Isabis found herself next to the fountain, lying on a bench, her hands wet. She had touched the water, it reminded her of the rainfall in Gilneas…

Nice. Especially the echo to round it off.

This is lovely writing, especially the way you bring it back to the beginning, with the water and the reminiscence of Gilneas. And now I'm very intrigued about Isabis' mind, I must say!

(And as an aside, nice quotation in your signature. I've only seen it within a poem, before I sound learned, but it's Rumi I think? I always liked it.)

It's a line from Rumi yes:

Out beyond ideas of wrong-doing and right-doing,
there is a field.
I'll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase
each other
doesn't make any sense.

Beautiful, isn't it? Isabis is loosely based on these words. Thank you for reading and commenting

Ah, that really is lovely... I clearly need to read some Rumi.

I came across the lines in the following poem, which is one of my favourites:

Spoiler:

Not quite as directly inspiring perhaps, and a little harsher, but now I see the context around Franz Wright's choice of quotations. Thank you!