The world spun, sky, ground, sky, ground, sky and suddenly stopped somewhere in between.

Riko felt the blood-soaked ground under his cheek and the thudding of hooves and boots. He could smell musky leather and sweat. The voices of men and women shouted orders. There was movement at the corners of his vision as soldiers ran here and there. His eyes were looking at his hand still holding the spear shaft with the top cleaved off.

He felt so very cold, but his body refused to shiver. A ringing was growing louder in his ears.

Lightning crackled and the sky flickered with its light. The resounding boom echoed across the sky.

Darkness crept in like a fog at the edges of his vision until there was only darkness. He couldn’t sense anything except a soft pressure from all sides. It wasn’t cold, it wasn’t warm. Vague impressions of things passed through his mind. Things that could have been, memories of what was, disappointments and joys of what could have been. It reminded him of the times when he dreamed at night and could direct how things turned out. If he tried too hard, he’d wake, as if being too conscious was a crime in the dream world worthy of exile.

He suddenly felt like he was flying, though the darkness still shrouded him. He dreamt of mountains and hills he passed over like a bird, their passing nothing more than the wisp of a thought.

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A dull light grew around him. He felt himself lying on his back and softness gently touched his sides. He opened his eyes. An expanse of grey met what felt like his first viewing of the world. He turned his head to the side. The softness touching him were flower petals of every color. They were heaped around him and under him.

Fog shrouded what looked to be a field. Others like him were there, they had not woken yet. They lay on stone blocks as he did with flowers about them. There was silence.

He rose, moving slowly as if through water. His head felt as cloudy as the fog around him. He sat up after what seemed like minutes.

A shadow ran by. Riko looked that way. Another shadow ran by, a man. Others followed him silently, running and with faces intent on their task.

One stopped by him, breathing hard. “Welcome to the afterlife.” He looked in the direction the others were running. “Can you stand?”

Riko turned his head slowly where the others were running and blinked. There was a flash deep in the clouds, then a muffled roll of thunder.

The man smacked his leg. “Alright, time to go.”

Riko slowly turned towards him. The man sighed. “If you don’t want your body in the over world to be turned into a soldier for the Sae, you’ll come along quickly and avoid being captured.”

One of the men who had run past before returned carrying a body slung across his shoulder. “Hurry it up.” He said as he passed.

The man by Riko nodded. “No more time.” He slung Riko over his shoulder.

Riko spied the broken spear shaft among the flower petals. Something urged him to grab it and carry it with him.

The man turned and ran as he could with Riko bouncing against him.

Riko watched as they passed many rows of others like himself. Men lying on stone and flowers, asleep in the fog with their weapons at their sides. The war with the Sae had followed them even in death.