The Deepest Shade

Prologue of The End

Death is the darkest shade that love casts upon souls, it is the most excruciating pure form of agony which dips one's heart and mind into the most tenebrous yet pure form of nigritude at the slowest pace. It is commonly renowned on the general perspective that death is nothing more than the end of a souls life cycle, that death is the over-weighted ponderous anchor of our mundane, tangible and adventurous ships for we hover over a reflective portal of god's creation. However only those whom are destined to sink into the depths and roots of struggling are meant to experience other forms of death.

It is that rarity amongst us that experience the immortality of evanescing, the everlasting, long living death, the kind of demise that we ought to endure the paradox of, and the worst form of them all is one's death, the self-absorbed, non-reflective preserved demise.

Lost...lost, far far away from every settled shade, from every stable soul, further from every constant out of the endless equation of life was an illogical variant, a paradoxical function where its own graph slowly rendered into realisation to the bare eye as simply two humans and a van.

It was 5am, a nighthawk was soaring up the crepuscular dim skies of the "Nowhere Road", its eardrums did not register any audible sound other than the fluctuations in the atmospheric pressure throughout the lengthy ambient wave impinging the nighthawk's ears. Suddenly, the nighthawk caught a bizarre smell, it slowly yet longingly landed its eyesight onto the summit of a mountain in hope of finding a heat source for how cold it was, the beauty and glamor that was being reflected onto the nighthawks hazy pupils was fascinating duo to the contrast of the variety of colors and the framing of both the sun rays radiating from the corner of the universe gradually from flaming orange to soft pink to charming subtle purple and a clear blue magical van sitting next to a camp fire surrounded by two wet tents.

The nighthawk landed on the summit and was slowly approaching the campfire in hope of warmth, it hopped its way on the moisten grass with care until it got in between the tents, the nighthawk oddly stood still in a stance of observation of what seemed a moving giant creature holding two objects that were redolent of that bizzare scent in front of the fire.

It was a misty dawn and duo to the altitude it was freezing cold, the dew condensed on the tents tissue, grass and the nighthawks feathers was dripping at a slow pace then started evaporating and that steam was visible as the very first ray of light was projected at it. There was the night keeper gazing upon two separate halves of a soul, in the eyes of the nighthawk it was one single person sitting on the cliff.

As time went by, in the midst of twilight was that exclusive period of time called dusk, there was Han sitting hanging his legs from a cliff, Han seemed like a living martyr, he felt selfless and mournful, his pupils were out of light, cold and lifeless. Han was lost in his own mindless, numb brain, unleashing his eyesight towards the limitless horizon.

"fascinating ! isn't it ?" said Ana in a soothing tone while standing behind Han gazing towards the cleavage  of dawn holding two blue hot cups of mild aromatic coffee.

Han was snatched back from the blank space that he was roaming in by Ana's voice and regained his limited visual focus onto the sky.

Han remained silent as Ana handed him his blue cup of coffee then sat beside him. They both tardly sipped their black coffee

"So...uhh...are you a sleepwalker ? questioned Ana.

"Aah...i-i don't really know to be honest with you." replied Han.

"I take it that you had a one terrible nightmare yesterday" said Ana in expectation of some sort of confirmation or validation from Han.

Han held his hands together, confused in an attempt to utter logical words out of his dry lips and said, "Well, sort of...yeah.."