The Reconnaissance Clock

CHAPTER 3 THE DARK REALM

It was pitch black aside from torches that created an eerie reflection on the water. The reflection was there, but no light was given off, or the darkness engulfed the light that they created. The boat rode smoothly on the water and a man pushed the boat forward with a stick that he stuck into the ground beneath it. Galed opened his eyes, his entire body was in pain. The figure driving the boat had skin dangling as it hung over bone and his eyes were sunken into his head. "Greetings Galed, I am Charon." the man struggled to say as he continued to row the boat into a seemingly never-ending void of darkness. "Where am I?" Galed sat up and said. Galed was young, and fit, but he felt as though he were dying. "You are in the Dark Realm. You died and now you are property of the Lower Creator. But, you have been chosen for a specific task. Most of the time there is no shred of hope for the person that I am boating for, but you are a peculiar situation." Charon said. Galed held on to the sides of the boat and looked all around him. In the far distance, lightning stuck, but slowly like electricity flowed slower here than above. "Why am I so special?" Galed asked. "I do not know" Charon spoke and rowed, "I think that he wants to use you somehow. Has he reached out to you in your life?". "No, I have never had any interest in religion, and I definitely have never prayed before." he replied. "Interesting"

Charon said, fumbling with his mustache, "The Dark Realm is infinitely vast. When our master wants us to be presented to him, we will appear before him." "Then why are you rowing into nothingness?" Galed asked. "It is my prison, I must never stop rowing. I must pay the consequences of my actions. I ferry the souls of the dead for eternity.". Lightning struck again in the distance and there was no thunder heard. The torches shown from pillars that seemed like a path for the small boat to go through. Galed looked down at the water and it gave off a metallic shine to it, but he could not see his own reflection in it. "Your prison will be different than mine, but one thing we all share in common is that we all experience a version of loneliness that doesn't exist among mortal men". Galed tried to lay down and rest but he could not sleep no matter how hard he tried. He became terrified and wanted to run away as soon as he could, but where could he go?

It seemed like weeks, but Charon continued to row and row until they reached a dock. The boat smoothly stopped and bumped the dock. "We are here, I assume you have been called." Charon said as he reached out a hand to help Galed up onto the dock. They both groaned from pain as Galed helped him up. Every little movement caused pain, like he had burns all over his body. Galed constantly wished for relief. His bare feet touched the wood on the dock and he nearly collapsed in the pain. Nails were protruding from the broken splintered wood. With every step there was a print of blood he left behind as he followed Charon down the long dock. If he were not in so much pain, he would have most definitely run back to the boat. At least it seemed safe there. Charon escorted him to a rickety old wooden building that looked like an old home. It appeared as though the roof had protected the home many times through storms. It brought the perspective of many passing years, where time here might have moved slower than above. Galed remembered how slow the lighting touched its destination. He heard chanting as Charon cracked open the large door and led him on to the foundation.

A quavering voice silenced a group of people hunched over on their knees in red cloaks. "I am growing weak these days Galed. I am honored by your presence here. I've had my eyes on you for a long time. You can call me Valefar." A man said as he gestured Galed to approach him. The ceiling had a chandelier hanging on it with fire burning that seemed to light the room. The light glistened on a face full of pain and age. "You are... the Lower Creator... this is..." Galed struggled to get out words in Valefar's intimidating presence. "Do you have doubt? No? I hope not. This is as real as real is. Galed, you will be my seventh apostle." Valefar told Galed. Galed responded, "Why me?". "You know Flel Worloeu, descendent of Daniel Worloeu?" he asked. "I grew up with Flel. We were close until... until the mutants killed me and my family." Galed said then he writhed in pain when he tried to wipe tears from his eyes. "You will get used to the pain. The mutants no longer concern me. I am only concerned with keeping our laws and what we have built thus far intact. Flel is one of a few that wish to undo our efforts." Valefar spoke slowly and intent on Galed hearing every word. Galed thought about Flel, how they were the best of friends and how they shared many meals together and played games together as children. He then thought about how they grew apart as they got older, how they grew apart spiritually. They would still be friends though if he were still alive. He thought about how odd it was that he was dead but still being updated on what is happening above. "Galed, you will be my most cherished ally. You will have everlasting life and sit by my side, with my other apostles." Valefar said and put his gauntleted hand on Galed's shoulder. "Do I have a choice?" Galed asked. "Do you want a choice?" Valefar asked. Galed shook his head and paced the room, looking at how the apostles were all still on their knees probably afraid to move.