Some might joke that death and taxes were the only certainly in life, yet it still had a hard morbid truth to it. Despite the many historical records, religious sermons, and theological debates in existence, you could never fully shake the uncertainty of what may or may not lay beyond the veil of that final moment, as you drew your last breath.
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I heard and felt a shifting of movement behind me as Gertrude loomed above me where I still sat in the magic circle. She looked at me with shining eyes as if she understood far more than a little of what I just experienced. The knot in my throat felt a little easier to swallow down as I simply looked back at her with my weary shoulders slumped.
I had proudly held up a metaphorical weight throughout this trial. It was a heavy burden to bear, yet fulfilling. At the conclusion of it and as the last traces of its feelings disappeared into my core, I felt gnawing loneliness and loss.
Gertrude didn’t wait long to step forward and to embrace me in a hug. I stiffened for a moment as I hadn’t realized we had become that close, but soon I melted against the hard edges of her shell as it just felt right and comfortable. She felt like a grandmother, giving comforting solace to her beleaguered grandchild who had just learned a painful truth of a wider world.
She didn’t speak at all, and no words were necessary. Despite her eccentric nature and predilection to become heavily invested in and excited about dangerous experiments, she still retained a sense of carrying the many vicissitudes of a life lived to the fullest. She had never spoken of it, however, I believed that she had carried and born many children and lost partners, leading to the life of solitude she now had.
Growth, experiences, and loss is much of what life is about. The seemingly ultimate of that loss would be death.
Many might rightfully argue against such, as the loss of certain forms of innocence may be considered more valuable than life, specific to them. My only counter argument which I might offer to such loss, is where there is life, there is hope. A single or multiple acts done against us does not irrevocably define who we are. We may be changed on a deep and integral level by the fallout, but we are still the ultimate definers of how we face life.
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Soon after we ended our lingering embrace, Gertrude had reverently concocted the last of the potions.
The potion and element containing death fit well as a counterpart to life. Where one was the start of existence and experiences to be had, the other was a blend of timely or premature endings to one’s story of life.
I knew that there would be far more to it than the light touch of an enhanced Halloween-ish atmosphere, or the feel of a foggy grave as the sense it gave off before. I had long since learned that each of these esoteric elements held far more than they previously hinted at. However, in what ways that would present with the last of these four, I knew not.
Taking the now ready potion, I tipped it back and drank the black and grey solution that tasted of blood and soil, but mostly . . . of the grave.
The first sensation which I felt was that of a slow lethargy which creeped over my entire body. A paralysis then took over my limbs and a cold numbness followed swiftly in its wake. I felt deep terror begin to fill me, as with this physical sensation, I experienced a myriad of emotions tied to confusion and loss. I couldn’t tell if these were my own emotions or not, but then with a definite distinction, I felt my own thoughts and memories became scattered as the light began to dim around me. . .
I came to, with a faint sense of awareness and a mildly uncomfortable sensation of the cold hard ground digging into my back. That was certainly the least of my pains as I felt like a gigantic shard of metal had been stabbed into my abdomen. With hazy vision, I peered downward and found myself on the ground of a smoke and blood filled battle field. A large sword lay embedded within my stomach which explained the pain.
I wore armor with an emblem I was not familiar with, and surrounded by dead and dying soldiers I had never known before.
Both winged and landbound, opportunistic scavengers had already begun appearing among the massed remains of those fallen. Man, monsters, and animals alike began harvesting that which they sought. Items and parts of value from those who no longer could benefit from them were torn with abandon from their dead and dying forms.
Occasional moans of pain would sound out as an individual appeared not quite ready to give up on existence. Those found were quickly and sometimes eagerly silenced by one or more of the scavengers, as if they gained a sort of carnal satisfaction from ending a life.
The body I currently inhabited and felt the senses of, refrained from making any sound and simply watched in catatonic silence at this desecration to a previously holy battle. At least that was what was pandered to him and his compatriot soldiers before they rushed off to war.
Trace memories and recollections trickled into my mind as I learned the highlights of this devastating field.
A simple difference in opinion of political and religious factions, goaded on by the heads of state had led to this bloody conflict. Countless lives of individuals who wanted nothing more than to protect that which they already possessed for the sake of their families, had been sacrificed in the name of progress and “rightness.” Too many had believed the rhetoric spoken by their leaders and generals, supposing that the opposing army was actively striving to take away their hard-won freedoms.
That very same argument had likely been pandered to their opponents. In fact, the still open eyes of the soldier who had stabbed this body, lay not far from me with sorrowful fear as he too had fallen to another, shortly after striking me down.
Despite the anger and wrath which I held in the midst of battle, I held little ill will towards him now as we took in each other’s countenance. No words were spoken between us as I was unsure if he was even still alive. If he were, I wouldn’t know what to say or ask. Would I honestly inquire of him what he had fought for and lost, or would I curse him to a swifter death even as I met my own?
My eyes began to close before the first of the scavengers neared my body. Only a faint tugging could be felt on my clothes as my last breath drew itself from my lips.
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Death. . ., was different from what I expected. I still existed or at least I was aware of my existence as a kind of incorporeal mist which hovered over the remains of the battlefield. Countless other mist remnants with consciousness lingered too.
What now? . . .
That thought surfaced on my mind as I began to see changes within the surrounding scape. The image of the fallen bodies began to distort and fade into oblivion as I was pulled into another fold or reality. Was this a path to the afterlife?!
I saw many of the prior fog or mist like forms condense into more recognizable and refined shapes. Still seemingly incorporeal but visibly defined. Others appeared to scatter into nothingness. Most of us, like myself were able to remain in a kind of limbo state, as we silently watched the goings on.
Amidst my muted surroundings, a surge of surprise broke the grey feeling upon witnessing what appeared next. A series of white, black, and multicolored spiraling gates opened above the field of lingering consciousnesses. From out of those gates stepped blindingly powerful beings of varying shades of light and darkness. Pausing to take in the view of those scattered below them, they soon set about their planned harvest.
Passing among the many souls who remained after death, occasionally those of a brighter countenance would touch a more defined form. That being or form would then light up with a sense of palpable joy before disappearing within a small cyclone of energy. Others, usually the ones touched by the beings with a darker aura, appeared to cry silently out in fear and denial as they were forcefully thrust into another less appealing looking cyclone of energy. The majority of the less defined forms appeared to hold little appeal to the visiting entities.
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Soon, the last of the visiting beings returned to from whence they came, leaving us to our fates. My sight began to fade again. As I believed I was to disperse, much like I saw so many others do before, I felt a vague shifting, and then the vision cut short. . .
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*Gasp!!*
I sat bolt upright from the floor with a surge of missing air into my lungs!
Confusion and disorientation swept through me as the many runes inscribed within the magic circle were flashing angrily! It was almost as if it were expending great effort to resist some invading entity or beating back the cold fingers of death itself!!
The rush of air fillings my lungs had never felt so sweet before. It took a while and several more breaths, but soon I gathered my wits enough to do more than just breathe.
Looking down, I took in the view of my skin which had become pale and grayish. This seemed to be a result from the trial. Only after a few more moments of continued deep breathing and intentional gradual movements of my body parts, did my deathly tinged skin slowly began to regain its normal and rosier luster. I felt as if my whole body had to be restarted, including the circulation of blood.
As my faculties restarted, I had to take a long moment to review in my mind what I had just experienced. . .
Death was . . ., disturbing to say the least.
Those entities which appeared to take away many of the fallen among the field of soldiers, made me wonder at their origins and destinations. However, the singular soldier whose form I temporarily adopted, had been taken somewhere else at the end, but I had been unable to see where. Was there really an afterlife or was that the complete end of his existence?
This was certainly food for thought. As such, I asked Gertrude if she too had any experience or knowledge of those that passed on.
A grave look came over her as she appeared to struggle with what to say. But she eventually spoke.
“Andrew, I need you to first understand that there is no perfect answer to this question.” She paused a moment before continuing. “There are many deities who have created realms which are capable of housing the souls of those they consider worthy. There are also many devils who can reap much from very sinful beings which they will happily drag down to their infernal realms. It is usually those that had lived a very pious and faith filled life who are summoned upon their death to the realm of the deity they worshiped. As for those that fall in the middle somewhere, little is known regarding their final destination, if they even have one.”
Her expression turned dark as she appeared reticent to say more. But my imploring look seemed to be the incentive she needed to continue.
“It is believed in many circles, that those which are not chosen can be called back in various forms by those who practice the necromantic arts. Their energies are used to propel the body they inhabited before their death.” Disgust contorted her face as she finished that explanation.
It then softened into a more pensive look. “There are some individuals who have assimilated the death stone who only seek knowledge from those that have passed on. It is believed that remnant wills can linger and pass on said knowledge to those who earnestly seek such. As for if it is a complete soul or not . . ., that has been held in great debate.”
Taking a moment to wet her dry mouth, she added. “Genuine practitioners of that art are incredibly rare and are far outnumbered by the cold-hearted charlatans who profess a similar ability. They do such in order to swindle what they can from despairing survivors who only want assurances of peace for their deceased loved ones.”
Her expression of loathing mirrored my own. Just as there were such individuals here, there were also those on my home Earth who would seek to prey upon individuals and families who suffered such a loss.
Thankfully I hadn’t been in a position where I felt inclined to seek out their services, but I had heard of many frauds which had been exposed for their duplicitous activity. Additionally, after hearing Gertrude’s explanation for how the rare genuine individuals who gained the ability to commune with the dead were here, I had to wonder if there even were any legitimate ones in reality.
The conversation soon came to an end. After rearranging her magic circle again, Gertrude returned the moved shelves to their original position and unlocked the shop doors for me to leave. Peering out the now open shop windows, I could see that the sky was already dark with the time that had passed.
I considered speaking up to voice an apology for taking up so much of her time, but she beat me to breaking the awkward silence brought on by the evening pall.
In parting, she asked me if I was able to reapply some of Victoria’s heavenly moisturizing shell cream to her shell. She didn’t currently have any on hand, but I happily gave her a promise to return and do so when I could. With that promise made, and a lighter heart at this conclusion to a stressful day, I then began my short trek back to the apothecary shop.
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After stepping out of Gertrudes heavily warded shop, I was struck with a myriad of disorienting sensations. My mind became foggy and afloat with turbulent thoughts, emotions, and other sensory feedback.
Nearly falling as I turned, I looked back longingly at the safer and more stable confines of the artifact shop. The protective enchantments which only now I realized had buffered the overflow of information I had to process, was stripped away with my departure.
I doubted Gertrude would have allowed me to leave so simply if she knew how much it would impact me, yet I didn’t want to go back and bother her more than I already had. And so, with gritted teeth I pressed onward.
My body too appeared to suffer from the disorientation, but it was mostly my mind which appeared to be struggling the most in adapting to the many changes which had come over me from those assimilations.
Everything near me gave off a sense of being too real. I could sense my general surroundings even with my eyes closed. Were it not for the too frequent interrupting stimulus of dust in the air and trace winds passing over my skin, then I’d bet with my eyes closed I could prevent myself from tripping on the rare outcropping of cobblestone as I mapped out the surroundings. Instead, I had to keep my eyes open to provide a more stable reference for everything going on around me.
That wasn’t the worst of it!
What threw and concerned me most, was the growing disorientation and headaches accompanied by swirling emotions that were Not my own! These sensations flared up only when I passed by too closely to some individual who walked or rode within a few meters of me, despite the lateness of the evening. Amidst the pain, it was like a rush of static sensations with hints of intent not particularly aimed at me.
I sincerely hoped that this was only transitory and would settle in time. For now, I kept my eyes open and aware of my surroundings, focused on maintaining as much of a distance as I could from others on the pathway.
After three more inescapable encounters with external emotional stimuli, with shop buildings blocking my attempts to distance myself, I struggled to retain my bearings and continue on my way.
With the number of times I had stumbled and fallen, I felt like my current appearance was comparable to that of an inebriated drunk, returning from a long evening of indulgence at the local tavern.
Perhaps that is why no one sought to aid me, and for that I was incredibly grateful.
If my growing vertigo was any sign of how I was feeling, I’d bet that I may soon complete the picture of a drunk to perfection. Adding vomit stains to the ensemble would have been the cherry on top.
I could easily imagine myself puking my guts out in some secluded alleyway, ridding myself of what might still remain of the many esoteric elemental potions I had consumed. I don’t believe I was at any risk of losing the new magical connections I already had. Still, I’d rather not play with chance and just wanted to make it back to the safety of Victoria’s shop in time.
Purposefully limiting the use of my night vision and other extra sensory as much as possible to reduce the strain, I thankfully made it back without further mishap.
Victoria was surprisingly present this time, as I was actually met at the doors when I arrived!
She seemed to have a sixth sense about these kinds of things. A look of exasperation mixed with pride covered her features as she gently guided me in and took me to a seat at the shop counter. Wasting little time, she went about concocting a tincture of anti-nausea and other calming ingredients to ease my stomach and mind.
I was both surprised and grateful that she did not make me do the concocting this time. Admittedly, I likely would have considered foregoing it altogether in favor of a long shower and longer sleep if she had not gone directly to doing it herself.
Maybe she had already understood such was a likely outcome, or maybe this was her softening up with more exposer and time with her lover Councilman Monroe.
A smile covered my lips at the thought of what they had likely been up to lately.
The smile began to fade as I realized that I wasn’t able to feel any emotions leaking from my master. Looking up at her in curiosity while she busied herself with the potion she was making, I asked her about such.
“Master, I noticed on my way back from Gertrude’s shop that my senses were greatly magnified and that even some of the emotions of those walking close to me invaded my mind. However, when I was around Gertrude and now you, I’ve not been getting the emotional feedback that I was before. In fact, I’m not getting anything other than my own thoughts and emotions it seems.”
*Haha!* She laughed a bit before responding. “I should assume as such. Gertrude and I are peers of sorts as we have each accomplished much in regard to elemental assimilation.”
Pausing to cast a look in the general direction of the artifact shop, she then admitted. “Certainly, her years and experience have allowed my friend a far more diverse collection of elemental affinities and achievements, but my talent in ice manipulation does not fall far behind her greatest affinity.”
Looking at me with more than a little consternation, she continued. “Gertrude had made me aware of her intent to offer you the esoteric stones, but I had not thought you capable of getting through all of them, much less in a single day!”
Shaking her head in bemusement tinted with pride in her eyes, she finally finished up the potion and handed it to me. “Here. This should help alleviate some of the residual symptoms and allow for a more restful night than you might have otherwise had.”
Taking the bottle, I sniffed at it in curiosity to see if I could re-identify all the ingredients she had used. With my eyes closed and my nausea mostly repressed from reduced stimulus, I was surprisingly able to achieve my intent. The five ingredients she had added were all ones that I had studied before and been part of the living samples test she had designed. A part of my mind preemptively took solace in this fact as I wasted no further time in downing the pacifying solution.
My troubled stomach instantly felt relief as the soothing ingredients worked in concert to instill their effects. As I finally felt safe and calm enough to relax, Victoria then began plying me with questions regarding my elemental trials and the subsequent results.
More than happy to oblige amid the calmed symptoms, I recounted my experiences to her in great detail.
Multiple times throughout the retelling, I could see her eyes light up at various parts. Humored understanding filled them when I spoke of the initial metal elements and the reversed flow of my vomit.
Intrigue colored them when I spoke of the effects of the space stone. Sorrow and commiseration clouded them as I painfully recounted my experience with the time stone and its accompanying trip down memory lane.
Upon description of my experience with the life stone, she sat up raptly at attention as if to not miss out on any of the details. I could see the barest traces of moisture filling her eyes even as they lit up with delight as I described the sensations of raising and cultivating the fires of newborns which had been the trial of life. Her eyes then grew distant likely imagining some future where she too might experience such. I had to ask her if she had assimilated any of those esoteric elements, but she denied it.
Finally, I told her of death. She took a detached but clinical approach in listening to my recounting. At the end, she gave out a relieved sigh while taking in my countenance. She gave no reason for such relief being shown but instead led me back to her dining room which was again piled high with a spread of meats, cheeses, and bread.
Encouraging me to eat as much as possible before going to sleep for the night, I followed her advice with a newly calmed stomach. Despite it being my mind and emotions which were mostly enhanced this time, my body felt starved for energy. I graciously thanked her and dug in.
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Following the stuffing of my stomach I went upstairs to take a shower and soon was fast asleep in my bed.