1: Freedom 

He did not remember his name. 

He did not remember his life. 

All that he remembered before being thrown into this colorless void was that he once was. 

And all that he knows is that he wants to be once more, no matter what it takes, even if there wasn’t anything that could be taken.  

He did not know how long he had been here, in this place without places. 

He did not know how much longer he would be here. 

All that he knew was that he could take it no longer. 

He needed something, yet there was nothing. 

He needed somewhere, yet there was nowhere. 

He needed someone, yet there was no one. 

There was himself, and only himself. 

And all that he knew was that he hated it. 

He hated being dead. 

He hated whatever cruel joke this was. 

He hated that he could not remember what existing was like outside of this prison. 

He knew that, given enough time, he would forget that there was someplace other than here. 

And given even more time, he knew he would forget that he was. 

And it scared him. 

And so, for what must have been the trillionth time, he prayed. Not to any god, for he forgot the names of them all, but he prayed none the less. 

He had prayed many times, and every time all that responded was silence. But this time was different. When he spoke the final letter of the final word of the final line of his prayer, believing full well that it was for naught, something spoke back. 

It was a voice without words, noise without sound, something that cared not for time, for time had no grasp upon it. A presence without form, for it did not need or want one. It was something that could only be described as indescribable. 

“Persistent, are you? Fine, I believe that is something worth some kind of reward, if small. 

“All that I ask for in return is your silence, and to never pray upon my name ever again.” 

He was speechless, for he knew no words to describe how he felt at this moment, nor was he given the time to find any. 

One moment he wasn’t. Drifting through an eternal nothing. 

The next moment he was. Gazing upon a vast green field that stretched as far as he could see, with soft gray clouds blanketing the sky. 

In that moment, he felt something he thought he would never feel again, something he had very nearly forgotten was something at all. 

Joy. 

He felt joy for the wind caressing his body. 

He felt joy for the sight in front of him. 

He felt joy for the ability to feel joy at all. 

He did not know for how long he had watched the green fields, only that the sun had risen and fallen many times, but eventually, he was able to break his gaze upon the vast fields. 

He looked upon himself and realized he was sitting upon a stone throne, old and weathered by time, though this clear ageing only enhanced its regalness. 

He then looked upon himself and saw something unexpected. 

He was made of stone. 

His body was cracked and worn; most details being scrubbed off by years of wind and rain. Patches of moss, lichen, and other bits of nature clung to him. His feet were tied to the ground by some adventurous sapling, and his body tied to the throne by vines. 

He lifted his arm, ridding it of the vines’ hold with ease and felt his face. 

It felt smooth, but not the kind of smoothness one would create with sandpaper. It was the smoothness of a stone left to the elements for many years. The only details he could make out were the sockets for his eyes and subtle cracks that webbed throughout. 

Upon his head he noted that he wore a crown, made of the same stone as the rest of him and seemingly attached to him. 

He stood; the young tree being uprooted by his might. His rocky joints groaned, bits of moss and flakes of old stone falling off him. He took a step, and the last of the roots heaved, losing their grasp upon him. 

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The stone man gazed upward, his eyes locked onto the clouded sky, the sun slightly obscured. 

Beautiful, he thought. 

He turned his attention back to the throne, and then to what was behind it. 

A few dozen miles away, he could see the beginnings of a steep plateau, with gray stone topped with dark trees. 

He returned to the throne, and something occurred to him. 

Who would carve a statue in the middle of nowhere, was I even carved by someone? What am I anyways, I’m pretty sure walking statues didn’t exist where I’m from. Or at least, I don’t think so... 

While he was pondering, he took notice of what looked to be an inscription at the base of the throne, but it was either too corroded to read, or it was in a language he didn’t recognize. He tried to keep it to memory. 

Memory... 

I don’t know my name. He realized. 

Well, that just wouldn’t do. He was going to need a name if he was to talk to people. 

Can I even talk to people? I don’t exactly have a mouth. 

Are there even any people? I may be some weird statue-man, but who's to say that the people who carved me aren’t long gone? 

He shook those thoughts out, there would be no benefit to thinking of such dreary things. 

What should my name be? 

He scratched his chin, the sound like that of pebbles rubbing together. 

He tried to think of names, but he couldn’t exactly remember any of them, so he decided to make some up. 

Johin, Hiln, Suan, Marrick, Cilk, Clikk, Mick, Narn, Org, Ohge, Ohne, Jone, Jor... 

Jor, I like that. 

With that decided, Jor tried to think of his next plan of action. 

Should I even do anything? Just being out here is good enough for me, it's been so long since I’ve seen... anything really. I wouldn’t mind just sitting on the throne and gazing upon these vast fields for however long I like, feeling the wind on my skin. Stone? Whatever. 

A part of him though disliked the idea. In his time of being dead, all he had done was nothing at all. He had done his fair share of rest, so what was the point of resting even more? There wasn’t one, that’s what! 

Without a goal in mind, Jor decided that he would look for one. He picked the most notable landmark he could see, the plateau, and walked. 

Walking felt strange, but it also felt right in a way he couldn’t identify. He could feel his weight, feel just how heavy he was, and yet he could move with impossible grace. Every step on the grass and soil was thick with impact yet made no more noise than was needed, as calm and soft as the whispering winds. 

Every blade of grass and every bird and cloud in the sky caught his attention. After so long of enduring pure nothingness, the stone man couldn’t help but try and see as much as he could. 

Night had fallen, and after the hours of walking, the plateau only grew a smidgen closer. It was clear it was going to take a while to reach it, but if Jor was familiar with anything, it was waiting. 

He continued walking, marveling at the stars above and nearly stopping several times in awe. One thing felt off to him though. Something about the moon felt off, disappointingly wrong in such a way that he could not reason why. It looked small and misshapen, its light eerily dull. 

Some part of him felt like it was supposed to be larger, grander even. But as it was now, it looked... Pitiful. Sad. 

Jor brought his attention back to walking, realizing he stopped sometime in his pondering. 

It went on like this. The days rolling by, the sheer gray edges in the distance growing closer and closer until finally he had reached his goal. 

While he may have been tall, he was no match for the grand designer that was Mother Nature. Hundreds of feet high the cliff sat, like a grand wall meant to ward off the outside world. 

While he perhaps could have scaled it, he saw no reason to. Instead, he traveled alongside it, heading toward a forest that could not have been further than maybe a mile. 

It took little time to reach the forest’s edge. Tall, thin birch trees greeting his arrival, their leaves and branches steadily swaying in the wind. 

But something felt different. There was something in the air that had changed. It felt thicker, as though there was some kind of energy in the air. 

It took him a moment to realize that the sensation wasn’t new and that he had been feeling it the entire time he had been in this world, but only now had he noticed it. It felt like what he experienced in the fields, but it was both denser and slightly different. 

Jor had no need for breathing, he was made of stone after all, but some strange part of him felt the need to perform the action now that he was aware of this new sensation. 

He gave in to his apparent instincts. He sucked in the invisible substance, and it flowed into him, at first like water before it slowed and became more like honey, until it he could breathe in no longer and it stopped flowing altogether. He let go, and it flowed out like a tidal wave. He did this a few more times and learnt something new each time. 

There were several parts to this strange energy, it was almost as if several sorts of ‘flavors’ were coming together to create something entirely new but not different from its core components. The more he studied them, the more he could feel like he could confidently assess their origins. 

There were many flavors to it, but there were two main ones. 

First, there was the one coming from the plants around him. It was practically pouring out of any living thing near him, but another strange thing he could tell was that miniscule amounts of it was coming from the air around him and even the sunlight! This energy ‘tasted’ like what he imagined what life itself would be. Like the chirping of birds, freshness of the air, the warmth of sunlight, and the growth of plants all wrapped into one. 

Then, there was the other flavor. This one originated mainly from the ground beneath, as well as any moisture around him. This one reminded him of decay, though it didn’t feel right to call it that. It felt cold, still, and unchanging. Like a near antithesis of the other energy, but not entirely that either. 

All of this fascinated Jor. It was like he was experiencing his rebirth for a second time. Naturally, he became curious, and tried sucking in only one of the energies. It was a little difficult at first trying not to bring both in, but he eventually succeeded, absorbing the first energy. Life Energy he decided to call it. 

It was the same as usual. He breathed in until he could no more. However, this is where things changed. When he breathed out, every plant the Life Energy touched began to grow. The grass, which was only a few inches tall, grew almost a foot. Branches grew more leaves, and the trees took on a healthier luster. 

That surprised him. Why hadn’t it done that before? Was it because he was exhaling only one energy instead of several? 

He decided to repeat the process, though with the other energy this time. Death Energy he would call it. 

It took a little longer since there wasn’t as much of it, but he was still able to do it. Once he was full, he exhaled. 

He deeply wished he hadn’t. 

What used to be green grass and white wood became blackened and rotten, as if all life had been sucked out of it. A process that should have taken weeks occurred in only seconds, and while it was mesmerizing in its own way, he was also horrifying. 

He reattempted his earlier action with Life Energy, and while it didn’t bring the plants back to life, new foliage grew over and replaced the ugly scab upon the land. 

If Life Energy heals and grows, what the hell did you think Death Energy was going to do? Idiot. 

While Jor was annoyed with himself, he also felt excited about this new discovery. If he was able to do this, what else would he be able to do? 

With that in mind, Jor continued his journey without a destination, walking deeper into the woods.