It was a sensation like no other.

His mind was barely conscious yet aware he still existed. He tried reaching out for his thoughts, to learn about his surroundings, to perceive what’s going on. But his awareness was restricted.

He assumed that he was experiencing the afterlife, a spiritual manifestation of his true inner self.

And then, like a water drop falling into a pool of water and causing an ever expanding ripple, life spread throughout his body. His feelings and memories had returned, his heart beating with the prospect of the unknown.

When he woke up from his trance, the first thing he noticed was that he was buried in a pool of thin mud. He could feel the movement of his hands, and the pain he had experienced earlier had all but disappeared away. It was as if the battle with the Demon King never happened in the first place.

He quickly stood up and explored his surroundings – or tried.

A thick layer of fog covered the entire area, reducing visibility to a couple of metres. He walked with no sense of direction, hearing the funny squeaky noises he made as he stepped on the thick grass.

He walked and walked, until stumbling upon a small pocket of water. There he could see his reflection, and his mind was put at ease.

He was still Richard the Paladin.

But there was a subtle difference that he had not noticed until now. He looked younger, 16 years old at max. His physique was not as robust as he remembered it either.

He appeared puzzled. This was a different reality he was experiencing, probably a side effect of him falling into that pit.

While lost pondering trying to connect the dots, he heard a voice. It sounded ancient, rising from below; from the very depths. It was a powerful voice, yet it felt gentle on his ears. Its vocals trembled the lands and created massive whirlwinds, yet for him, it felt like a breeze that slowly caressed his body.

“Since the beginning of time, it has watched over you; desiring you, wanting you. Its sole purpose was to be with you. But you have drifted too far away, never to be reached.”

“But now here you are, coming here by your own volition. But its love still can’t be yours, because now it loves someone else.”

 “Whose voice is this?” Richard yelled in search for answers.

“I’m the Voice of the Deep, but I’m not it, because ‘it’ has no voice of its own.”

“The Deep has loved me the same way as it loves you. It took care of me; it fed me, thought me how to speak, protecting me from harm.”

“It couldn’t bear losing me, so an immortal body it gifted me. Since we met, we’ve been together, inseparable forever.”

“Believe me when I say that it loves you, as much as it loves me. But it can’t love the both of us, and it can never depart with me.”

“I feel sorry for stealing its love from you. Deeply sorry. And that’s why I will be sharing with you a little of its love. Hopefully, in the future, you will find another ‘Deep’, one you can unite with and love for all eternity.”

A large tremor then rocked the entire place. Cracks appeared on the ground and the entire realm began to collapse. Time, space and reality twisted.

Soon Richard found himself suspended in vast darkness, surrounded by a transparent barrier, seemingly protecting him from the void that consumed the entire place.

Richard stared silently; this whole surreal experience had left him speechless.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

He could now see that several objects had assembled below him: armours, different weapons, artistic objects, skeleton heads, useless looking materials and several artefacts.

“One, and only one of these treasures shall be given to you as compensation. You will not be the one who will be choosing your treasure, it will be your treasure that will be choosing you.”

The objects under him became shrouded with an aura of different colours. It seemed as every object here had a soul of its own. Then they charged towards each other.

In a matter of seconds, an enormous battle had started.

Richard stared dumbfounded. He had seen his share of strange things during his life but never had he ever imagined he would be seeing this kind of battle one day. The battle of living treasures.

Objects fought and bumped into each other with incredible speeds. Some broke apart, others retreated and disappeared from his field of vision. Others appeared to be enjoying this fight, savagely crushing the other treasures.

The battle was a long one. For hours the treasures fought.

But there was a treasure that stood above the rest, a large burning sword with a golden tip. It had destroyed thousands of other treasures, forcing the remaining treasures to distance themselves. Soon, there were none left to challenge it. One by one they bowed, acknowledging its superiority and then surrendered peacefully away.

Richard’s wide eyes were stuck on this sword since the beginning of the battle. This was the most beautiful sword he had ever seen. He desired it, his hands already shaking with anticipation. He couldn’t wait to test the sword with his very own hands.

The sword remained there floating. It had no cracks, no dents and still appeared in perfect shape. And with no competitors left, it began moving towards Richard, stopping within his grasp.

He extended his hand and was about to grab it, when a flash of light appeared out of nowhere, hitting the sword and sending it flying down with massive force, disappearing into the abyss.

This sudden incursion left Richard dumbfounded.

Before him now stood a small flute. It was ancient, marked with several scratches. It hovered ebulliently, rising up and down multiple times and circling around him, seemingly inspecting.

But the battle wasn’t over.

A column of fire arose from the depths. It slowly dissipated, revealing again the sword with the golden tip in all of its glory. It burned with a red flame of fury, clearly pissed off at the flute.

It immediately charged towards the flute, seeking revenge for that previous surprise attack. But no matter how much it attacked, the flute dodged all of its attacks with a flash.

Both the sword and Richard appeared frustrated. They knew the flute was weak and it was only surviving because of its speed.  For them, it was just an annoying obstacle delaying their inevitable union.

“I have faith in you! Sword of the undying flames!” Richard yelled. It was a name he randomly thought on the spot, though he wasn’t good at naming things.

Hearing this, the sword appeared motivated. Its flame doubled in size and began swirling around it with increased rotation. Then it released a column of fire straight towards the annoying flute.

The flute tried to dodge but the attack was just too fast and ended up being engulfed in an explosion of flames. It shuddered and struggled, ultimately consumed by an endless sea of flames.

The flames roared with fury, then slowly shrunk, until vanishing away.

The flute was nowhere to be seen.

A wide smile could now be seen on Richard’s face. Both he and the sword celebrated this victory. It had finally found her master, the one who would wield it to glory.

The sword danced, moving in zigzag fashion towards Richard. The dance of comedy.

Much to Richard’s shock, the flute had somehow survived the previous attack and descended like a bolt from above, hitting the sword with immense power and sending it flying down like a falling meteor. Shortly after, a huge explosion was heard deep from the abyss.

Richard couldn’t believe this. He unleashed the full power of his vocals, screaming and encouraging the sword to come back. He was frustrated. This sword was his treasure. The sword had clearly chosen him!

He yelled and yelled, his throat burning with pain. But the sword never returned.

While distracted screaming, he sensed the flute hovering over his head.

The moment it touched Richard’s had, time and space began twisting again. The darkness gradually disappeared, replaced by the docile rays of the sun.

Richard was now outside in the countryside. He could observe the clear sky, the moon, the various little animals playing around and a nearby river moving listlessly below a stone bridge.

He seemed to have returned back to the world of the living.

He sighed, then sat on the nearest rock. His body was full of energy and he never felt so healthy, unlike his mind, which was on the verge of going crazy.

First the battle of the paladins, then the fight with the Demon King, followed by the pain he had felt when he lost his hand, the encounter with that strange pit, Wilbert’s betrayal, the voice of the deep and now this strange battle of treasures.

Too many thoughts plagued his mind, just too many thoughts. Too much had happened today and he couldn’t take it anymore. He closed his eyes, sleeping shortly after.

Next to him, sparkling in the sun, rested a small flute.