The Mark of Aether

Fallen Satrs~Part II

Nothing but white and white and more white. It wasn't clear or immaculate, nothing near the whiteness around Siltheres. This one was duller and lighter.

My senses were reduced to zero, no accommodation possible. I couldn't know my north from my south, my left from my right. The only thing that pierced through that white was the veiling sun in what was a loose replica of a sky.

Mourning for the life and the death, I recalled.

The familiar scent, that light bubbling sensation, that white purity, it shook me so badly as the snippet of realization dawned on me. Bricks falling over my head might have been more merciful.

The eye, the secret, silent magic
that stood as a perplex riddle for generations was nothing short than a gate to the land of the death.

Between the heavens and Hades, the upper and lower blur, the endless zones and bounder, the afterlife seemed to be much of a jumble for me to understand. But it was not the right time, at all.

Two hours and half, that's how much I assumed I still had. That's how much I hoped I still had.

Guiding myself blindly, I turned in that white and walked and walked until I could see splashes of colours around. I walked even more until I could see what could pass as civilization.

I started jogging, and to my horror, I did not see this coming.

My surroundings shifted. From the bit of civilization and elegant, massive mansions that started lining my vision came a blur of savage green. A forest with high arched trees cloaked me. Sun seeped from the fences between the leaves, casting a reddish hue on my path. A long narrow road of stones and stairs was dressed in front of my eyes. With no lead, no map, no bloody clue, I dove into that jeopardized road.

I couldn't afford to sit around and think, contemplate or meditate. Everything was spontaneous, born from the second itself. I just hoped that this was the right thing. The right way.

I jogged, bouncing four and five stairs at the time, dodging left and right. The path was like a labyrinth, curving in different sides, all leading somewhere. The end was a blur. I could merely see past my feet, white shadows dancing on the edges before the scenery would turn blurry and hazy.

I was about to shift to my right, when a voice, a so familiar voice, hit my hearings.

"Going somewhere?''

I swore I could see the curve of his lips before I even turned. With whatever muster I had, I turned, my face a mask. Cold and impenetrable, a me that never existed before. That I never, even in wildest dreams, had I thought I would be.

"Make it fast, I don't have time.''

His red eyes glowed, but not friendly. It was lust. Lust for blood. And it surely set mine on ebullition point.

I had to urge myself and fist my palms, refusing to make a mistake. A stupid mistake I would most probably regret.

He reclined on one tree trunk, his black suit merging with the shadows behind him. No weapons, no blades, no armies. Nothing but him. And it was wise, in a way.

Weapons would not be helpful in a world of deads. Magic was useless.

Just my luck.

"Didn't I tell you that this book will give you no help? I know what you are plotting, what you are scheming in that brain of yours.''

He came closer. With one hand, he cupped my face, holding my right cheek as though I was a lowlife. A nobody. It took me everything not to claw his eyes and feed them to the dogs of my castle.