White. White clouds.

It took my mind far longer than I would like to admit to realize what had happened. It wasn’t until I felt that oily sense of decay and evil that it started to come together in my mind.

Well, there were a few things to explain why it took so long. For one, that damn so-called “angel” was nowhere to be seen. In the place he would usually stand, there was a single cruciform sword thrust into the ground. Or, the clouds, as the case may be.

The second and more important reason is, I have absolutely no memory of falling asleep. I was just walking with everyone through the throng of excited and gawking tribal nomads at the meeting place for their sacred fey-meeting ceremony. One second I was on my feet walking along with Levin, Rolwen, and everyone, then the next thing I know I’m here all of a sudden.

I tried to shove aside my concerns about what had happened to me back in the real world for the moment and brought my focus toward how to deal with what was in front of me now.

This place was nothing but an empty expanse of white fluffiness, combined with that spine-tingling sense of wrongness all around me. As far as things that were physically here, it was just me and this sword.

I walked over toward that sword. As I grew closer, I was able to make out a word in what appeared to be Hebrew script on the blade.

אמת

It was a strange experience staring at those characters. I have never studied Hebrew before, but somehow I just knew what it said. The meaning jumped into my mind as my eyes perceived the script.

“Truth.”

Yeah, right. Truth. I am so sure.

I chuckled to myself and turned to walk away, but the moment I turned around I realized the sword was already in front of me again.

I looked back over my shoulder. It was gone from it’s previous location. It was as though the thing just teleported.

I tried to step away from the blade again, and once again it appeared directly in my path as though it had been there all along. It was strange. If I only move my head, nothing happens. However, as soon as I turn my entire body, the thing shifts it’s position to put itself directly in my path.

Cute. You can look away and close your eyes if you so choose, but you can never turn your back on the truth.

What a farce. Having figured out the rules to this thing, I looked back over my shoulder again and started walking backward. I glanced forward and confirmed that, indeed, I actually was building distance away from the sword like this.

Having regained some semblance of control in this situation, I decided to turn myself 90 degrees away from the sword and then sit. I glanced over my shoulder. It looks like it’s staying put this time. I shifted my upper body so it was facing away from the sword, and then it suddenly appeared directly in front of me about an identical distance away from my position to what it was before.

Ok. As disturbing as, well… frankly every single last shred of everything happening right now is, it does at least seem like it is governed by some kind of rules. So, if I can figure out the rules, then at least I can have some kind of footing in this bizarre situation.

Now, I guess I have to figure out what I’m doing about this. I don’t feel like I will be let out of this place if I just try to wait it out. That bastard may not be here talking to me, but I know he’s watching. He’s probably been watching me every second of my life ever since the first time he contacted me. That is, if I actually believe his story about only being able to enter this world when I used my void meditation for the first time in this life.

So, he definitely set this all up with something in mind. It is only too clear what he wants. He wants me to touch that sword. It’s probably going to make me have some kind of vision. A vision of some “truth” he wants me to see. Considering the context of what thoughts were going through my mind when I was brought here, it probably has something to do with Earth. Something about this apocalyptic event that Mr. Adderson had mentioned.

“So, you think you can play this off as ‘helping’ me, huh?” I asked, speaking to the air around me. I know for a fact that bastard can hear me. “It’s so obvious. I am trying to run away from hearing a certain piece of information, and now suddenly you kidnap me back to this place in order to force-feed me the information I was avoiding.”

I rose to my feet and turned away from the sword again. I already knew exactly what the result was going to be, but it was somehow emotionally cathartic to do it anyway. It helped me to rile myself up for the point I was trying to make.

“Hmph! Yeah, I am so sure you just want to show me the truth.” I said. “The part of the truth that is most convenient to your goal, anyway. I know this game! Partial truths that are used to manipulate information, and cleverly worded to twist the information and manipulate the listener. Well, I don’t want to…”

My words trailed off, because sometime when I wasn’t looking there was a pretty major change in the sword. The hilt, which had previously been a fairly normal undecorated grip, pommel, and cross-guard, had suddenly transformed into a golden snake who’s wide open jaws served as the cross-guard and it’s coiled tail as the pommel.

“Huh?” I said as I stared at the suddenly changed sword far more carefully. The rules I thought I had learned had just changed. And when a change this drastic happens, it is time for me to be on my guard.

My instincts were screaming at me that this sword was done being just a passive nuisance, and now my eyes were glued to the damn thing as I stayed alert for whatever it was going to pull next. Those instincts proved to be spot on. Right before my eyes, the jaws of the snake began to move as though it was trying to work it’s mouth around the massive blade that was protruding from it. Then, a sickly almost rust-like shade of poisonous purple began spreading over the blade starting at the snake’s mouth.

The discoloration started slow at first, but it almost immediately sped up and worked it’s way all the way down the blade. And it didn’t stop when it reached the ground either.

The wispy tendrils of cloud stuff turned from white to black around the point of the sword, and that blackness grew in a circle around it. As I saw this, I tried to turn away again. The result was the same as always. The very moment I turned my shoulders and showed the sword my back, it was suddenly in front of me as though it had been there from the very beginning. Only this time, it had brought the blackened clouds with it.

It seemed like there was only one thing I could do. I started shuffling backward as fast as I could manage. But, as soon as I had reached the same distance from the sword as when I first arrived, it was as though I was unable to get any farther from the thing. No matter how much I retreated, the distance between me and the blade remained the same. Meanwhile, the blackness around the blade kept growing bigger and was rapidly approaching my position.

I did not know what would happen if I was touched by that blackness, but I seriously did not want to find out.

What could I really do, though? This place made it impossible for me to get any farther away from that thing, and the blackness was approaching fast. It wasn’t just fast. Just like how the discoloration of the blade sped up as it progressed, the radius of the circle of blackness was also accelerating in it’s rate of expansion the farther away it spread from the blade.

Then, just as I was about to start panicking, the blackness slowed and then stopped as though the whole thing had been some kind of bad joke.

At the same time as the blackness ceased it’s expansion, the blade began to sink into the dark ring that had just expanded under it. In it’s place a large stone dais rose out of the large dark void. Laying atop that dais was a man covered in wounds that, in conjunction, appeared fatal. Indeed, the man was not moving. It was as though he was prepped on an autopsy table.

He was dressed in loose archaic clothing, consisting of light colored robes that were torn and stained with his blood. His feet were bare.

After this, several more figures appeared around the man. There were a man and a woman crying on one side of the table. On the other side of the table was a rather upset looking woman staring down at the man on the  table. This woman was gently caressing the dead man’s forehead.

There was one very striking thing about this clearly mourning trio though. I recognized one of them. It was the crying woman. She looked almost identical to the way Tiaren did in her last life, when she had appeared to me in order to offer that deal to save Katelyn.

And for that matter, the other woman bore a rather striking resemblance as well. Although, she was much older. A mother, most likely.

“How could this have happened?” The man said.

“He… his power was the strongest of ours.” The crying woman said. “How could he… he should have been able to stop this!”

“You’re right. His power of healing was the strongest.” The mother figure said. “And for that reason, it may not be too late.”

“What? Mother! Damu is dead! It doesn’t matter how powerful someone is at healing, dead is dead!” The man said angrily.

“That may be, but I will not give up without trying.” The mother said and looked up with determination. “We are going to need a powerful potion. Ninazu, I will need you to bring me the draught for the base. Gunurra, bring Amashilama. We are going to need her power for this. We are going to refine Damu’s blood in her stomach.

“We haven’t even told her yet. She is going to be devastated!” The man said. “Do you really think that this will work, mother? You know how sensitive she can be. It would just be cruel if we went through this and it did not work in the end.”

“It is our only chance.” The woman said.

The man looked like he wanted to protest more, but he eventually nodded and went over toward a nearby shelf. The crying woman, in the meantime, had managed to gather herself enough and went off into another room.

The man brought back a bottle of alcohol and poured it into a clay jar. After that, he handed a bowl over to his mother.  Meanwhile, she had taken a scalpel to the dead man’s neck and was collecting the blood in the bowl she was just given. By this point, the man had been dead long enough that the blood had congealed. It came out in thick clumps suspended in runny water-like fluid. The mother began agitating and mixing this disgusting substance and turning it back into red blood.

The woman who had left the room earlier returned cradling a large brownish-black slug-like creature. The slick and black slimy creature had no eyes, but it’s face immediately turned toward the man on the dais when they came in and it let out a shriek.

“Damu! What’s wrong with him!?” The creature asked in obvious distress.

“It’s Ok.” The woman who was holding the creature said. “We need you to help heal him. It is just like all the other patients before.” She pet the creature’s head reassuringly as she said this.

“What happened?” The large leech asked. “What happened to brother?”

“He was attempting to exorcise a spirit, one way too powerful to handle on his own.” The man said. “Mother thinks we can help him with your power, Amashilama. We are trying to make a potion to heal him now.”