I drift in and out of consciousness. Dreaming of the real and the impossible. Of waking up on Earth laughing at my imaginative mind. Or dying on the cold, ashen earth and buried under the earth. I stir in these moments, but it isn’t long before my clarity dims and an uncomfortable sleep retakes me.

The feeling of discomfort passes. Then a moment of soothing. One that extends longer than it feels it should. Until a voice resonates in my mind. “It is good that you are awake.” These words greet me as my eyes slowly open. A gravelly voice, rough and sharp. Yet feminine. With a melodic lilt that mellows out its ending. A curious mix. The first thing I notice is that my hunger and thirst are sated. My body feels rested. Good even.

It only takes me a moment to gather I’m inside a room. Stone walls surround me, and a luxurious bed covered with silken cloth greets me. The room is neither small nor big as it offers a homely comfort. And to the right stands a wooden desk and chair, its shade a mix of brown and orange, with the person residing on it scratching words to paper. Next to her rests a wooden lantern lit with the same deep green flame that covers the walls. A flame that, uncannily, doesn’t burn the wood.

With the figure completely covered by a luxurious black robe I can only make out their shape. To her side rests an orb-laden staff that exudes power. The orb swirls with a mix of black and gray ink. The staff itself is wooden, but made from a structure that holds a sense of heaviness to it. After observing her for a while, I can’t help but open my mouth.

“Did you rescue me?” I ask. A moot point. But it still felt necessary.

“My friends did.” Her voice grates first, and then comforts. Like going from bitter medicine to a honey aftertaste. It is a jilting and rather unique voice. “You are very far from home.”

“I am.” I answer frankly. “Far enough that I have more questions than answers.”

“Well.” The writing stops as her head turns slightly, amusement seeping into her voice. “I think we both have questions that desire answers. I suppose we can start with yours.”

I stare at her, trying to figure out her intentions. But after a few moments I realise I don’t have the luxury to be suspicious. I can only trust in what brought me here. With a heavy sigh I sit down on the bed. A question comes unbidden to me. “Where am I?”

“The continent of Tearvael.” The answer is curt and tense this time. With a hint of discomfort. A difficult pause holds in the air between us. Then a sigh escapes her own lips as she continues to speak. “At least that is what it was known as. These lands hold no living. Not anymore.”

Her words ring in my ears as she turns to face me. My breath catches. I shoot up with a start, completely unable to suppress the terror that fills me. The woman in front of me can only be described as monstrous. The left side of herself is pure, white bone. Polished to a shine with a kindled flame burning verdant green in lieu of her left eye. And yet her right side is completely alive. Flesh and blood, and a pearlescent purple eye that glows with power. Her features are feminine, but no less terrifying.

There is no distinction between the two sides. They blend together like it’s their nature to be one and the same. Yet every fibre of my being rejects what I’m seeing in front of me. It’s alien. Impossible. But there in front of my eyes. Instinctively I reach out to grasp her emotions, only to hit an invisible wall that sends me recoiling. She frowns at my intrusion, the living side of her face twisting down while the bone remains still.

“Not everyone is unguarded from such intrusions.” The words twist the air around me. A heavy pressure descends and I feel, for the first time, the full weight of her power. It sinks into me, dying me with its colour as it threatens to break me apart piece by piece. And then it disappears. “You would do well to show more respect to your host.”

I stumble backwards, slamming my head into the corner of my bed. She watches me as I gather myself together. I try to bring myself back under control, but the fear in my eyes won’t disappear. “What are you.” I whisper hoarsely. Her eyes study my own. Her frown smooths out and her flame-lit eye flickers as she looks at me.

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“I am me.” The amusement in her tone doesn’t help. “It seems you are stranger then I first assumed. Ignorant, but here in the middle of a continent no-one’s set foot on in decades. Your story might be more interesting than I expected. So…will you share?”

I just stare at her, unable to hide the shivers that race across my body. “I…” Words form on my lips and then dissipate. What do I say? Nothing here makes sense to me. I can’t even feel her heart. I’ve always known where I stood when I talked with someone. Whether they’re kind or cruel, or anything in-between, I knew. Yes. I knew. My lips quiver. And now I don’t. She doesn’t speak as I struggled to process everything. Not even after many minutes go by. She simply waits, patiently and quietly, as she watches me go through a myriad of emotions. Until I settle on one.

Resignation. I gather my breath, and calm myself. I face her head on and speak. “Forgive me for my display,” I say quietly as I incline my head toward her. She doesn’t answer. I feel the deep fear that wells within me. I’m afraid of her. But ironically, the fear of losing control grips me far tighter. Being vulnerable. I can’t hear her heart, but I must lay mine bare. It terrifies me. Yet I have to speak.

I incline my head deeper, words unwilling to be voiced being forced out of my throat. “I will explain who I am and where I came from. In return, I hope that you will help me make sense of…everything.” Everything that I am screams at me to not be so foolish. To not trust so irresponsibly. I push it down with gritted teeth. I need to trust Abba. And in turn trust the person in front of me.

After I speak a smile appears on her lips. A small smile. Her rough and sweet voice intermingles in the air. “I am Lady Diabella. And you?”

“Brand.” I answer.

“Then speak of your story Brand. I offer no promises before I see your sincerity.” Diabella says. The words twist my heart further, but I force it down and stifle the panic that threatens to rise. I start explaining. It comes slow at first. Gathering my memories into a coherent re-telling is harder than I thought. It also makes me realise that as daunting and intense as the events appear from my perspective, they make for a rather short tale.

I tell her of Earth too. Of Abba. Bits and pieces that give her an idea of the place. When I finish, Diabella closes her eyes and contemplates. My nervousness ticks up with each passing second, and after a long minute she looks at me and speaks. “I’m sorry.”

Her words leave me stunned. “For what?” I ask.

“The will of this world would never have allowed that to happen in normal times. Such a summoning is dangerous to everyone, including the planet itself. No-one knows what sort of monster could pop out with such a barbaric ritual.” Her eyes break contact with my own, a far-away feeling emanating from her as she speaks. “This continent is like a giant, gaping wound in the world. A wound that continues to fester. The world is in enough pain that its eyes no longer cover every direction. And I…bear this sin.”

Her words falter for a moment before she resumes speaking. “At any rate, this information is of no help to you. Just know that you can find rest and solace in this place. However.” Her words pause as she weights what to say next. I can feel Diabella mulling over the words she intends to speak. “You cannot leave.”

My stomach turns and my insecurity makes me flare up. “Why?” I ask. “That is not solace. It is a prison!”

“You will not understand,” Diabella answers. Her voice is more forceful then sweet now, a commanding tone cutting through my broiling emotions. Just without the previous power. A tone that only riles my edges further. “But I will answer regardless. You have sped up the cycle by killing those skeletons. I will not have you make things worse by going out and doing it again. Besides, tell me where you wish to go? This continent holds no different scenery. There are no boats. No safety. This, Brand, is the only place left alive. So whether it’s for you, or for me, I will not let you leave.”

Her words hold weight. That I know. Although I don’t understand what she means by cycle, I can still see the sense of her words. And yet. I still couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “I don’t like being controlled.” I almost spit the words out. My rational mind crying out to stop even as my emotions take over. “I make my own choices.”

“You still can.” The words are quiet. Her living eye pierces into me as it glows bright. “What you cannot do is go against my rules as host. I have given you grace. I will continue to give it. But you will act as a guest, or I will have to ensure you do.”

Her hand raises into the air and, with a snap of her fingers, a spark of her dark green flame alights into the air before falling onto my body. Before I get the chance to react it melds into me and disappears. “For now it appears you need rest, and some time to think." Then, as if my earlier rested state was a lie, exhaustion takes over me again. My eyes start to close against my will as my body falls back onto the bed. “Let’s hope you wake up with a better attitude. For your sake.”