“A void town… there of all places.” I mumbled to myself.

How could it have happened? Is it just ‘cause of the fight? What even happened after the moon appeared!? Was it a sign? Am I missing something?

‘Dammit dammit dammit!’ I cursed in frustrated anger. I had expected the worst, but even I did not think it to be this bad. I had expected some people to die, but this… this…

‘All of them are dead…’ I closed my eyes and sighed as I stood up from the table, having lost all appetite.

“I apologize but I’d have to retire tonight, Mr….?”

“Belousouva. Randeep Belousouva. And it’s okay, I can understand. Such news has a way of stealing one’s appetite. Did you have someone you knew in the viscountcy?” Randeep said, expressing sorry and a little guilt with his expressions. I assumed he felt bad for ruining my dinner.

“My family used to be there.” I answered, which was technically the truth. I did not feel much remorse over their demise though. They were effectively strangers, to both me and Conor, with our only relation being the blood in our veins.

“My condolences. May the Waters wash away their regrets and hold them in peace forever.” He said as he tapped his shoulders from right to left. “If there’s anything I could help with, I’d be happy to. Good night for now.”

“Good night.” I said and walked away.

The rest of the journey was spent in silence of my mind as I tried not to think over anything, this close to the sea. Knowing my suicidal side, I wouldn’t wanna try my luck once again with drowning.

This also revealed to me a flaw in my regenerative powers. Although it can heal me from almost any wound, it takes time to work up, and if I were to be constantly bombarded with injuries, I’d still die. Just like drowning. Far from being an immortal.

Reaching my room, I tightly locked it and sat on the chair. Only then did I allow the guilt and the apprehension of the situation to wash over me.

A whole city's worth of people, dead. Dead very likely because of me. Dead ‘cause I was kidnapped into this world. Dead ‘cause some super strong assholes felt like it.

I sat there in silence for a while, as the fact of how messed up this world really was washed over me. Just the mere existence of Void Towns, places that are literal boundaries of life and death, gigantic spheres of nothing. You cannot feel it, you cannot touch one, you cannot even enter one. It’s like the boundary between two dimensions, or maybe space did not exist there.

An enigma in a very literal sense, as no one knows how they are made and how they came by. All they know is a lively living town, or city, or in worst cases whole kingdoms, have been replaced by blobs of no-entry zones.

I really really wondered if this is something Artists in the higher sections achieve? Can I do it too if I reach that high? I don’t know but the scene of the moon struck me with confirmation. If anyone, then maybe that being can do it.

‘That’s it, I want nothing to do with this world anymore.’ It was cowardice, but do I not have the right to live in the world which I was promised? Earth was never a beacon of peace, but it had things I wanted, things I cherished.

‘Let’s start with improving myself first.’ I was sick of being weak, and I needed something tangible to show for his progress. An anchor I can hold onto.

Still on the chair, I closed my eyes and looked deep within. The mist still swirled inside of me. It covered every inch of me and something peeked from behind it. I concentrated harder and yet I couldn’t find what that was.

Recognizing the fact that I won’t find what’s behind the mist without taking control of it, I prepared my metaphysical claws and tried to snatch it. It didn’t work. It just slid away and returned where it was.

‘Goddamit, why can’t anything be easy?’

When another thirty minutes of work proved meaningless, I decided to change my approach. I’d have to think about what I’m actually trying to achieve here, before achieving it.

’I’m trying to basically control mist. How does one even achieve that? How does anyone ever achieve anything like this?’ I wondered, how can someone control a metaphysical entity which they’ve never controlled before.

‘Or have they?’ No, that can’t be right. But can it be?

Does it come off difficult to me due to my foreign existence? Is being an original member of this world the key to handling these powers? But that can’t be right either. Otherwise, how would I get them?

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Then what’s the trick? I wish there was someone who could help me right now. My thoughts went to Father Ajax who had helped me so much. Would he be dead too? He seemed like a strong Artist, so maybe he survived?

Shaking my head, I got rid of these thoughts. If he was alive, then perhaps we’d meet someday. If not, then I’d remember to give him a prayer the next time I visit the church.

Focusing back on myself, I continued to mull over my current dilemma. How could I do the impossible? I lay there on the chair, eyes closed as my thoughts jumbled from one idea to another, and before I knew it, I was lost in another thought.

It was a distant memory. A dear one though. It was the first time I made money off of my work. The days of putting stalls in front of the college dorms waiting for someone to buy something. Anything.

It was a girl who bought my first work. A charming and delicate girl with her fingers in her sweater as she points to my painting with the hanging arm of the sweater.

She had these bright green eyes which made you feel seen. She had many friends around her, yet when she looked at you, you felt the weight of all her attention. And you liked that attention.

Yet I could not remember her face. Only those two green laughing eyes.

She had picked this art I made a while ago. An idea I had in a dream. A monster with green flaming eyes hidden behind a curtain of mist, his features hidden yet those eyes shone through, as they lit the path of a lonely dove.

I loved that piece, and even more so cause she picked it. She motivated me to draw when I thought I would never amount to anything. Mist has since then become one of my favorite elements to draw.

I suddenly opened my eyes. That was it!

‘Fuck me, how the fuck did I not get that!!?’ I cursed myself at my stupidity. I am an Artist, a fucking freaking Artist. I am supposed to draw, not fight. Our specialties are not there for us to kill each other with. No!

‘Even after knowing so much I missed it, gosh I’m stupid. Thank you for still helping my sorry ass Maya.’ I silently thanked my wife, as I dove deep within myself.

I looked at the ever-swirling mist within, and with a silent prayer to no one in particular, formed a metaphysical brush. I held that brush very carefully and very very slowly touched the mist.

The mist rippled with my touch, and I was enthusiastic.

‘It’s working! Yes, let’s not ruin it now.’ I reprimanded myself and controlled my bubbling emotions. Controlling the brush, I let it slide across the mist and it followed my command. A brushstroke appeared, parting the mist aside and letting the stroke of mist shine through.

That stroke of mist somehow seemed special. I could feel a uniqueness to it and it seemed much more connected to me than the other.

I lifted the brush again and gave it a swirl. The mist followed my command, and with my growing confidence, I kept painting it and on it, and slowly all the mist within me was in my control and I drew them in a point. A single core of dark grey mist.

And I finally saw what was hidden behind it. A mess.

A purple mess of apparition. A chimera perhaps, as it had two pairs of limbs, yet a single face with two varying features. His face was composed of two different noses, two different eyes, two different ears, and everything else.

He looked like a mess and he currently was imitating my posture of sitting on a chair with both of his eyes closed.

‘Is that my… soul?’ I wondered. Why is it so ugly? Is this what happens when you mix two souls together? You get a freak?

It was honestly depressing. The first time I got to see my soul, and it looked worse than I did. I always arrogantly imagined my soul, as an artist, to be more beautiful than others. But… hahhh

Looking at it I realized the reason behind the “Name: ??” on my heart. My soul is too much of an abomination to be given a definite name. ‘I wonder if it’ll change in the future. Would I be on the losing side?’ The thought chilled me, and I quickly retreated out.

Once again opening my eyes, I looked around. No one had barged in, that’s good. It was a little over 12 now, and a new day had begun. Honestly, it went faster than I expected.

But Maya did always say I lost track of time while painting.

‘So now I can move the mist inside me, but how do I like, manifest it outside?’ That I was stumped about. All I knew was that I couldn’t drill a hole in me to give the mist an outlet.

‘Are there any paths for it to follow?’ I looked around and could not find it. The only thing I had was my metaphysical brush.

‘Wait a second, how did I create that brush again?’ It was a question I hadn’t thought of earlier. I had wished for a brush, and in my mind, a brush was created. How can it interact with the mist if it’s part of my imagination?

I tried to create that brush outside my body. It was hard, and almost impossible from my logic. How can someone create something from nothing?

But slowly I saw trickles of icy blue sand flow out of me and float above me as they tried to form into something.

‘Woah what the fuck!’ I internally screamed and the sand instantly lost all form and disappeared mid-air.

‘That was crazy…’ I wondered if I was going crazy, but after seeing so much these past days, maybe seeing sand trickling out of my body shouldn’t have surprised me as much as it did.

‘Slowly and steadily this time.’ I focused all my attention on creating the brush again, and slowly the icy blue sand flowed out again and this time, although slowly, an icy blue brush floated in front of me.

It was a flat paintbrush with a gradient of icy blue running through its body, coloring it darker to much lighter at the end.

I lifted my hand and tried to touch it. It was cold to touch, and yet warm at moments. It felt weird to touch, yet fun. I held it and visualized the mist inside of me as I made a stroke in the air.

And very faintly…. a light screen of white formed. It was pretty much transparent, and yet looking at it, I couldn’t help but almost cry in elation.

I’ve done it!

‘Told you I’ll get ya next time.’