I was walking through what appeared to be a thicket, sparsely obfuscated by a gentle mist. The tiny suspended droplets were individually illuminated by a stray moonlight ray, escaping the dense roof of foliage high up above me.

Only one sound was loud enough to be audible: dry, fragile leaves, crunching underneath my heavy steps.

The cold was making all the blood rush to my face, yet the air was oddly absent of any wind, as if the atmosphere was holding its breath at my advance.

Critters of the forest on and above ground were visibly still, as though petrified, observing this unwelcome outsider marching into a place he all but belonged in.

It felt like the very earth below my feet wanted to reject me, push me back from whence I came.

Although dazed and confused, I couldn't help but let my mind wander, oppressed by this sense of dread screaming from everywhere around me all at once:

“Why am I walking?”

And that's when I realized, I didn't know.

I didn't remember stepping foot into this forest. I didn't remember my reason for wanting to press on. It felt like a word I had on the tip of my tongue, so frustratingly close, but yet still barely out of reach.

For just a single moment I thought of stopping, of going back, wherever ‘back’ even was. However, as soon as the idea had barely finished conceptualizing into my mind, something disturbed the very core of my being.

A bolt of painful shock from deep inside my gut shot its way outward, whiplashing my nervous system, reverberating throughout every fiber of my flesh and blood.

Whatever reason I had to end up here in the first place was of utmost importance. So much so that — despite the motivation slipping from my mind’s grasp — my body was seemingly hard-wired into working towards this one objective, a primal instinct going beyond simple logical reasoning.

And so, I kept walking.

Cold, tense and exhausted.

Though my memories elusive and my body’s strength to stand up on its own quickly fading, it kept going, heavy, encumbered, step after step, I pushed through, until I couldn't.

One simple mistake is all it took. The wrong footing, and I swiftly fell down with a thunderous crash. In that one instant, I felt the weight of the whole world on my back.

The sound of clattering metal pieces on my body echoed through the woods, prompting a flock of forest birds to hurriedly join the stars in the night sky.

The ravens’ watchful gaze, however, remained uninterrupted, in all likelihood because they knew I was only a second short of a motionless carcass, ready to enter the cycle of life anew.

I not only reached my limit, but adrenaline pushed me past it for too long. My body had simply given up on me, as though even simply breathing now was a sharp and painful exertion.

And that's when I witnessed it.

My eyes, narrowly open, caught the glimpse of a light. Not of the firmament’s reflection, but independent, coming from something standing just in front of me. The divine.

A creature of God, mesmerizing, unlike any and all imperfect creations that make up mankind, lit up with a majestic, but also unnatural radiance, that would make even the moon turn its head, so as not to be blinded by its light. A faceless, yet eloquent countenance. A human, and yet otherworldly figure clad in an armor of silvery silk and bright chainmail, crafted with an artistry that could rival that of the continent’s greatest blacksmiths.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Was I hallucinating? Somehow, they felt like someone I had met already.

My eyes closed shut. I felt I could finally lie, right then and there. I felt that if I died in this moment, it more than likely meant I was being accepted past the pearly gates. A messenger sent from someone watching me, to guide me, comfort me, tell me that it's okay to rest, and it's okay to give up.

But then I felt it again. That same shock, the same feeling of my bones resonating in unison with anguish, with desperation, yet not one of survival, but for a purpose far greater than my own life.

I jolted my eyes back open, tightening the grip on the handle of my broken sword, using it to push my shoulder up.

Inch by inch, with trembling weakness, I used what little force I had left inside my muscles to push my body upwards using my wounded arm, propping myself back to a kneel with the blade. The pain was excruciating, but I — had — to keep going.

The creature spoke to me, with the voice of a thousand authorities, in a mind-shattering volume, forcefully pushing their way into the insides of my skull.

“You were never meant to come back here. Have we not made ourselves clear?”

Before I even realized what I just experienced, I let go of my sword and clutched my head, trying to resist the overwhelming urge to faint from this alien sensation. My knees buckled, and my head banged against the cold dirt.

Yet, the creature cared little of my struggle, and continued.

“Adria, son of Arthur, leave this place at once. Our decision has been made, and it is final. This pointless affront is nothing but blasphemy.”

Then, the screaming disappeared just as quickly as it came.

I gasped for air, opening my eyes once more. My hands fell in front of me, and I used them to push myself back up, raising my head to look at the figure.

Even though subtle, her expression changed. Brows furrowed upwards, and consequently, the light of her form dimmed, revealing her silhouette to be that of a young woman. Her voice also grew gentler, almost motherly in tone.

“Why must you struggle so?”

She pauses for a moment, staring directly into me. Her eyes looked like the gateway to an opposed dimension I would become insane trying to understand.

“I… sympathize. But understand this is just meant to be.”

Upon hearing those words, a fire lit up inside my soul.

Anger. Pure, unadulterated anger. The type that would make a man mad.

The exhaustion burned away in an instant. It felt like I had to do something, my soul was urging me to action, but why? These strong feelings felt like that of a child’s, a tantrum at nothing, but also towards everything at the same time. I hadn’t the slightest clue where these emotions came from, or what they meant.

Blinded by rage, I failed to notice the creature’s expression change once more. This time, it was complex, like numerous emotions were clashing against one another. Her guise of composure was thinner, something… human, was breaking through. But at that moment, for some reason unbeknownst to me, I could not bring myself to care.

“Adria…”

That name. That damn name. For some reason I could not understand no matter how hard I tried, hearing it pushed me over the edge. Something plainly snapped.

My hand reached towards the hilt of my broken sword, gripping it so tight that it made my hand hurt in pain.

“Do not dare use that name, creature of Light.” I spoke in rasped breath, a phrase that came to me somehow as natural as if it were muscle memory.

In a swift emotional outlash, I used all of my remaining stamina to push my entire body weight upwards in a jump. The hand with which I was holding my sword lunged for her head, striking down the center of her left temple in a single impactful blow. The blade sunk into her face, edge cutting halfway into her eye.

“God may judge me as unfit to step into his Kingdom upon my death, but abandoning my purpose now will make even an eternity in the Empyrean ungratifying.”

Somehow, those words felt like the appropriate thing to say. An itch I had to scratch, the cathartic feeling that I had just accomplished something I had wanted to do for a long time, contemporarily, an action that I would’ve never been able to find redemption from.

I let go of my sword and stepped backwards, as the creature in front of me fell to her knees, in an ironic twist of fate.

“I’m Ansel, son of a wretched swine.”

Her face tilted upwards, defeated, yet peaceful. Even in death, her composure did not falter. Golden ooze trickled down from her wound, curving down the tip of her chin, resembling a thin, single tear, staining her otherwise immaculate figure. It didn’t take long for her body to tilt sideways, and eventually fall to the ground into a patch of dry grass, painting the individual blades in this worldly yellow color.

“...And I won’t make his same mistake.”