Verit

1. Where the Old World ends...

Felis awoke, finding himself floating in an endless expanse of milky white haze. Light was coming from somewhere, pearling off the fog and dimly illuminating the strange sea. It was neither hot nor cold, no feeling of weight pushing onto his body, and not even the faintest breeze touched his skin. Even his breath was weightless, as he felt no air escape his lungs. Not a single smell entered them.

He tried moving, and though he felt control over his muscles, every contraction was slow. His body was sluggish and relaxed, his nerves were cotton. Nevertheless, there was no resistance, no drag, no friction. It took some willpower, though eventually Felis guided his fingers to his throat. He pressed them against it, feeling a slow, constant rhythm of heart beats. The soft haze seeped back into him, his fingers relaxing once more, the arm still raised to his neck. Felis could not tell which way was up. He had assumed to be lying on his back, but the more he attempted to pinpoint it, the more uncertain he became.

He tried producing a sound, vocalizing randomly. No sound escaped his lips. It suddenly felt oppressively quiet, a creeping sense of dread crawling through his veins. He felt enclosed, and yet gripped by vertigo. He felt his stomach churning, a clump forming in his neck. Though he knew these feelings were purely of the mind, for his body was fully relaxed. Without any attention to it, the very fact it existed escaped him. He forced his mind to settle, following the example of his body. Felis remained still for some time. He had no way of telling how much time passed, though eventually he felt his mind melting into slumber. His senses were about to give out entirely when he forced himself to grasp them once more. If he fell asleep, would he ever wake again? He clung himself to the edge of the precipice of sleep the only way he could think of. Placing his fingers back on his throat, he began counting. The gradual rise of the numbers was the only indication that time was passing at all. He continued counting, past the hundred, past five hundred, past one thousand. He lost count several times, picking up the last number he remembered counting. While it did not help in knowing how much time passed, he knew at very least it was.

He had reached around five thousand by the time he noticed the change. At first it was barely visible, though as his eyes began searching for it, it became painfully obvious. He stopped counting, straining his eyes. The fog around him slowly lost its chaos as he saw patterns of hazy blue swirling through it. The light too, was no longer omnipresent. Looking at his hand he saw shadows begin to form on his fingers as he held them up. Currents of blue passed through them coalescing in front of him, barely an arm's length away. With mental strain he reached out, and to his surprise his fingers touched something, something solid. It felt hard and cold, like metal. Squinting, he saw the swirls forming a long shape, extending above and below his fingers. He closed his fingers around it. Suddenly the muscles in his arm tensed up, a feeling of pain, like several thousand knives pressing into it. Felis screamed, but still no sound. The pain enveloped his entire body, a searing, flaming pain cutting into every nerve of his being.

***

Felis opened his eyes. He felt sick, and heavy. Was pulling him into the mattress. It felt too hot for comfort. With effort he sat up, his feet falling off the edge of the bed. He buried his face in his hands, resting his head. He could feel his brow and cheeks wet with cold sweat. Was it a fever dream? he thought, shifting his palm to his forehead. It was warm, though not hot enough for a fever. Felis got up, trudging to the window at the foot of his bed and opening it. He took a deep breath, savouring the cool night's air as it flowed into his lungs. Even at this hour of the night it tasted faintly like smoke, coal, and oil. Nonetheless, it did him well, the nauseous feeling subsiding. He looked up at the sky. They were hard to make out, but a couple of stars were still visible. He took another breath and sighed as he let his gaze drift down over the uniform roof of the building across the street. Two metal chimneys, a row of vertical windows not unlike the one he was looking through now. Repeated over and over, from one street corner to the other. Now of course only the ghastly light of the lamps below and the hazy light illuminated them, so all Felis could see were the houses phantasmal silhouettes. Only a single window was lit, like the piercing stare of a one-eyed giant. Felis sighed into the night air again. A cool breeze struck him, flowing into the room.