Afterdeath

Chapter 2: Aistayqaz

"Who am I? Where am I? Why am I still alive..." Fragments of memories flood Arvis's mind, each one slipping through his grasp like sand: chaos, peace, adrenaline—all at once, overwhelming him. His pulse races as shadows move in the haze around him, stirring him awake. In an instant, he rises, his hands searching his chest frantically for the wound he last remembered.

"What the—? I was killed, wasn't I?" he mutters, his breath catching as he stares around him. "What is this place?"

Arvis stands in an open field surrounded by jagged mountains, towering over him like silent, ancient guardians. Nearby, a lake shimmers, its blue surface pearlescent under an ethereal light that bathes the whole landscape in a surreal glow. He blinks, rubbing his eyes, but nothing sharpens the blurred scenery. Everything around him feels both beautiful and foreign, as if he has been pulled from one life into another.

With a deep breath, he stumbles forward, feeling the weight of emptiness press upon him—no food, no water, not even a weapon to defend himself. He searches for any sign of life, calling out into the void.

"Is this...heaven? Or what?" he shouts, his voice swallowed by the silence. Only the cold wind replies, rustling the grass at his feet.

Suddenly, dizziness sweeps over him, his vision blurring. His chest tightens with an ache born of betrayal and violence, memories surfacing before his mind fades again, and he collapses.

When he awakens, Arvis finds himself lying on a rough-hewn bed in a dimly lit room. A soft, golden glow filters through a crack in the window, casting a warm light across the dusty floor. He sits up, feeling the throb in his head, disoriented. The door creaks open, and a woman steps inside, carrying a bowl of water.

She has long, golden hair and skin that seems to catch the faint light, giving her an otherworldly radiance. As she sets the bowl down, her gaze meets his, filled with curiosity and something softer—concern, perhaps.

"Where...am I?" Arvis murmurs, still dazed.

She raises a brow, offering a faint smile. "You should probably rest first, before asking questions. You passed out on the road." She gives him a pointed look, a small, amused glint in her eyes. "We're lucky we found you before the wolves did. They would've had quite the feast."

Arvis squints at her, trying to make sense of her words. "This place...it doesn't look familiar. Nothing looks familiar."

The woman watches him carefully before crossing her arms. After a moment, she steps closer and, surprising him, reaches out, taking his hands in hers. "You're overthinking things. Life isn't meant to be so complicated. Focus on the present—you look filthy. A bit of water will help clear your mind."

For a moment, he's taken aback by her kindness. Her touch is gentle, her gaze sincere. She hands him a cloth and gestures to a bucket of water by his bed. As he begins to wash off the dirt and sweat, he feels a quietness settle over him—a peace he hasn't felt in ages.

Later, after regaining some strength, Arvis sets out to find her. He searches through the inn, asking the few people around about her, but they respond with puzzled looks. Eventually, he approaches the innkeeper, a grizzled old man, hoping for answers.

"Excuse me, do you know where I can find one of your maids?" Arvis asks. "She has golden hair, fair skin..."

The innkeeper frowns, scratching his beard. "What's 'blonde'? Maybe you mean Cyrisse? She's away at the moment."

Arvis's curiosity grows, but he shrugs it off and steps outside, hoping to catch sight of her in the streets. The town is alive with activity—merchants calling out their wares, children darting between stalls. Despite the strange atmosphere, he feels an odd sense of familiarity, a reminder of the life he had lost. He continues walking until a muffled scream catches his attention, coming from a nearby alleyway.