The Afterlife,

Samsara.

 

...

 

 Chris’ eyes snapped open. His confused gaze stared out at the ‘sky’ before of him. The vastness took the appearance of a grey cloudy void. The atmosphere stifling. Oppressive.

 “What the—” he groaned as he sat up. Chris did not know why, but he felt somewhat odd. Everything felt somewhat odd.

 It was then he noticed the first problem.

 He was mute.

 “…”

 Well, not mute per se. He was aware he just spoke. He could still hear the words he said. But only in his head. Mentally.

 “…”

 Well, that isn’t speaking, Chris thought to himself. I am just having an internal dialogue like I always do… Well, that sounded pathetic.

 “…”

 Again, Chris tried speaking audibly. No results. It was then noticed the second problem, or rather a host of additional problems.

 To start, he also couldn’t hear anything. As in, anything. From the tapping of his feet on the glossy grey, mirror-smooth floor to the raging flow of the ethereal river running overhead in the sky. It was all silent.

 It was almost as if someone put the entire world on mute. Or maybe, he was just deaf and couldn’t hear the words he spoke. He could also be dumb and couldn’t speak in addition to being deaf and would now have to live with disabilities for the rest of his uneventful life.

 Well, that would be quite unfortunate...

 Chris wasn’t sure for certain which was which, or even how to deal with the possibility of that situation. But one thing he was completely certain of was the fact that the silence was unnerving. Very unnerving.

 As for the second issue.

 I think I am lost… Chris trailed off—clearly given up on speaking out loud—as he gazed at the grey featureless expanse laid before him. Except for the phantasmal river overhead, a floating ‘pearl’ that glowed with a dim, crimson, smouldering intensity beside him and the giant ‘thingy’ suspended in the sky distance, several hundred miles away, there was nothing else notable to be seen.

 Oh, and my body appears to be semi-transparent now. That’s new. Chris mused.

 “…”

 I must be seeing things, he said to himself. It must be the light. Hmm… it’s definitely the light.

 Chris shook his head, dismissing that line of thought. He looked around, trying to rationalise what any of this was all about.

 Last, I remember, I had this major migraine coming on and was on my way to refill on my Excedrin when…

 Chris froze, trailing off. His gaze snapped to the floating ‘pearl’, fixating itself blankly at the object for a few moments.

 Oh… he deadpanned.

 He turned away from the pearl, also promptly ignoring it in favour of examining the ‘thingy’ hanging in the sky. He appeared to be quite adept at ignoring things that he couldn’t understand or bothered him.  

 The strange celestial object looked like a giant metallic ring with six internally tangent rings jointly intersecting at the bottom. The phantasmal river ended in a ‘waterfall’ that slashed vertically through the rings intersect.

 All seven rings rotated—their axis at the intersect—although at varying speeds and direction. Even from the distance, Chris could faintly see numerous strange, glowing runes carved into their surfaces, pulsing at a solemn pace. Curious, he motioned to approach it only to be stopped as a voice spoke out behind him.

 “I would advise you against that, little one,” the voice spoke into his mind without a hint of reproach. It echoed at a seemingly modulated frequency, like multiple individuals speaking in sync in an echoing room. “Once a soul embarks on the path of Samsara only the power of the Great Dao can prevent its refinement anew.”

 Who is there? Chris wanted to ask, but he could only form thought at the moment. He whipped to face the speaker but found no one. Except for the floating pearl, there was nothing else was in sight.

 Where are you? Who is speaking?

 “Here, little one,” the voice(s) said again, seemingly ignoring the fact that Chris was currently incapable of speech. The ‘pearl’ wiggled in an attention-grabbing manner as the voice spoke.

 Chris frowned, cocking his head as he stared at the somewhat amusing display.

 Are you reading my mind?

 “Yes.”

 Oh… Well, that’s rude. Will you please stop?

 “…No.”

 …Ok?

 So, Chris began, his expression morphing from disbelief into an indescribable fusion of stoicism and denial. I guess I am talking to a pearl now, huh?

 “I am not a pearl—”

 You are, Chris interrupted sagely. His tranquil gaze seemed to have seen through the vicissitudes of life itself.

 “But I am not. This is just a vessel for—”

 All I see is a pearl, he deadpanned, clasping his hands behind his back.

 “But I am not—”

 You are.

 “…”

 “Fine,” the voice(s) said with a relenting sigh, “I am a pearl.”

 Thank you, Chris nodded sagely.

 And I am hallucinating. I know this is weird asking you, but how do I wake up from this hallucination? This place was cool and all when I first arrived, but the blandness and silence is starting to get to me. I would like to leave.

 “But you are not hallucinating—”

 I am, Chris argued. If not, why would I be having a conversation with a pearl?

 “But I am not a pearl—”

 You are. Chris said frowning. You just said it like five seconds ago.

 “…”

 “I am not a pearl,” the previously tranquil voice(s) repeated with an undercurrent of irritation. “I am not a pearl. You are not hallucinating. You are dead, in the afterlife, about to face Samsara to be rebirthed into the physical plane.”

 A pause.

 I am dead?

 “Yes, little one. Dead.”

 …Oh, Chris deadpanned after another brief pause.

 “Oh?” the voice(s) asked. “That’s it?”

 Yeah, Chris shrugged.

 “You don’t seem surprised…”

 Nope. I am not. I kinda figured from the weird scenery, the silence and my translucent arms.

 “… So why?”

 I don’t know, Chris shrugged again. Maybe I was just kinda wishing I had overdosed on Excedrin again or something. That this was all just some weird, elaborate, oddly detailed hallucination. To be honest, I tend to do that overdosing thing a lot lately. I think I might be fostering an addiction. Should I see a doctor about it? It doesn’t bother me or anything, but should I? Oh right, I am dead. I shouldn’t be able to get addicted. Can dead people get addicted? Hmm… That’s something to think about.

 “…No,” the voice(s) said, sheer disbelief leaking into its tone. “No, it’s not.”

 “We should have expected this,” the voice continued seemingly to itself(s), confirming Chris’ suspicion that he had been speaking with multiple—albeit oddly synchronised—personas all along. “Even several millennia was not enough to dampen his annoying guile.”

 Chris fell silent, squinting at the ‘pearl’

 What is that supposed to mean? He asked.

 “You will know in due time.”

 Hmm… Chris hummed, squinting harder. He held the stare for a few seconds before dropping the issue in favour of asking another.

 So, what is that? He asked, turning to point at the rings suspended animatedly in the sky like a cursed live wallpaper.

 “Those,” the voices said, “are the Paths of Samsara.”

 …What is Samsara?

 “Samsara,” the voice said patiently, “is the never-ending repetitive cycle of birth and death. It exists in seven forms of reality otherwise known as paths; these include the Fey, Terra and Beastkin paths of the Deva realms, the Daemon, Spirit and Infernal paths of the Shura realms and Human path of the Daevic realms. As per the Dao and an evaluation of your accumulated karma, your soul is to be refined and reincarnated into the physical plane via the Terra path of the Deva realm.”

 Oh… Okay. I don’t understand a word of what you said, but ok.

 Also, you said refined? Chris asked baffled. What do you mean by refined?

 “Refining the soul involves cleansing it of its memories and persona in the river of time in preparation for it to be born anew.”

 Oh…Okay. Wait, What?

 “Every soul undergoes this procedure. It’s not as bad as you think it is—”

 It’s not? You just suggested performing a memory wipe on my soul! And that is, okay? I never signed up for this! Chris exclaimed in outrage. I don’t want my memories wiped! Do I even have a choice in this?

 “Technically no,” the voices said. “But luckily for you, it’s not your destiny to face samsara in this lifetime.”

What is that supposed to mean? Chris squinted, his expression betraying his suspicion.

 If I don’t face Samsara how will I return to the physical world? I do not intend on spending the rest of my existence in a darb place like this.

 “You won’t. You would face Nirvana instead.”

 …And that is?

 “The release of a soul from karmic bondage and Samsara.”

 …O-kay. So, when can I leave?

 “The preparations are almost done,” the voices said, the ‘pearl’ suddenly flaring up in a bright flash. A few seconds later the light dimmed back to a comfortable luminosity and Chris noticed a strange crimson liquid seeping out onto the pearl’s surface. The faintly glowing fluid coalesced into a drop, trembling erratically under its weight as it floated off the ‘pearl’.

 Is that… Blood?

 “Don’t fight it,” the voices replied. Before he had the chance to respond, the suspended liquid shot at Chris, slamming into his chest and hurling him several meters away. The liquid blossomed into bloodlike tendrils that took root on Chris’ soul before igniting into a resplendent bonfire a moment later, inadvertently setting Chris ablaze.

 Chris fell to his knees writhing, screaming inaudibly as he thrashed on the floor. His aura grew turbulent as the unnatural flame slowly melted his translucent form into a crimson puddle. The upper half of a figure with a face that vaguely resembled Chris began to reform. It struggled within the puddle, clawing the empty air in a desperate bid to escape the slowly dying flames.

 The ‘pearl’ went dim. The voices within grew silent. Watching. Warily they waited, observing as the disturbance caused by Chris’ turbulent aura awoke the slumbering guardian of this plane.

 In the distance, the basin underneath the paths of Samsara, into which the ethereal river disappeared rumbled. The previously even waves propagating the surface suddenly became violent, a fearsome figure emerged, shooting through the waterfall and the celestial rings that were the paths of Samsara before looping around towards Chris and the pearl.

 Chris’ soul reformed and he regained some semblance of clarity from the inhumane pain in time for him to witness an entity several miles long slithering under the phantasmal river in his direction. The creature had the tail of a fish and the neck of a snake, the belly of a clam, the whiskers and scales of a carp. Its head was that of a camel, claws of an eagle, and paws of a tiger. It had the ears of a cow, the eyes of a demon, the beard of a goat, a lion’s mane and the horns of a great stag.

 A few miles away, the great serpentine dragon stopped and circled Chris and the pearl. Due to its relative size, Chris could see its grey, truck-sized scales, each one with a strange bluish rune inlaid at the centre. Two rows of scales on either side of its body glowed with a faint azure lustre.  

What the—

 “Tui, La!” the dragon roared imperiously, seemingly referring to the occupants of the pearl. His growl echoed, breaking through the previously impenetrable silence. 

“What guts!”