The Legends of Anigma: Ethiel Archer | ONC 2023

PART XXXVII

"Welcome to the other side!" The spirit appeared in front of Ethiel, hovering in a cross-legged position, arms folded over its chest. "Didn't expect this, did you?"

Briefly, Ethiel gave it what he thought was a blank expression, but he could feel his face cringe as streaks of tears trickled down, dripping from his twitching chin. Without responding, he faced the white floor, or whatever they were on, and returned to sobbing his pented sadness and torture out of him.

"Oh my, just look at you cry!" It exclaimed. "Cry, cry as much as you want."

Even though those words meant good, the way and tone in which they were spoken, that implied a latent intention which Ethiel couldn't guess in his condition.

Despite the bliss of the place, revolting against his gripping fatigue and despair that refused to heed, he wobbled back to his feet and wiped his tears clumsily.

"No..." Another whimper sputtered out of his dry mouth that tasted of salty tears. "I gotta get the fragments!"

"Because your friends are waiting back there? The only way to leave this 'lovely' forest is to succeed, and you think you can do that in your condition?" It chuckled, evaluating him head to toe with such great amusement as if he was humour incarnate. "There is no hourglass you need to be wary of. Keep that in mind."

There was no denying that logic, but the look on its face said another story, a story of hidden agenda, and that made Ethiel hesitate to even consider its words.

"Imagine it practically. If this trial requires more, can you face it? Like this?" The spirit pressed on, a notorious smile and its mischievous squinting looking all the more suspicious. "Can you?"

"Yeah..." Ethiel found it hard to believe his own words.

"Is this some joke? You're funny!" It laughed, leaning back till it was lying in the air with its arms folded behind its head for a pillow. "If you are hellbent on dying, be my guest. Why should I mind? I don't. Not a bit. Free will."

Maybe the spirit was right, Ethiel thought. Maybe a bit of rest wasn't going to harm anyone. Perhaps it was a must, given the situation.

"I guess... I will take a couple of minutes..." He unsurely stated, sitting on the floor, legs sprawled and arms limp.

"Now you listen. Now you listen." The spirit did something with its sharp eyebrows and smirked, its tone cool and calm with some sinister and sly satisfaction. "Better late than never. Tell me when you're ready." The next part she exaggerated, "Wheneverrr you feel like it."

The weight over Ethiel's mind and soul lifted with the passing time. The crammed, intrusive thoughts cleared, ghouls leaving behind the remains of remains.

Tears flowed till they ran dry, heart bellowed till it was a beat again, and breath finally returned to being a gentle breeze than a turbulent wind current.

Ethiel was fine, fine enough to proceed — he couldn't have waited to be in perfect state again.

"I'm ready." He rose to his feet.

"Are you?" The spirit gave a doubtful look, a smile growing wide on its face. "Well, if you say so."

It swished its arm swiftly with a flourish in an arc, like lifting a veil. In response, the surrounding started to dissolve. The white remained, circular, spanning a dozen meters from where Ethiel stood. At the border of this circle grew transparent white grass that glowed radiantly, liberating little bright specks. Beyond that, the space had turned into a complexly abstract and leisurely whirling mix of spontaneous black and dark green suffusing and diffusing with each other, mild luminescent and continuous strands and bands of dark colours aimlessly drifting about; what seemed to be the ground had grass made of strands of dully glowing green, embers of blue and purple cracking out of them as they rustled. Below the transparent grass, the black and green cosmos whirled.