“Hey, Rayne. You think you’ll ever get out of this place?”
Burden, the guy who’d appeared at my dig-site some hundred years ago, asked me the same question he always asks every year.
“Nah. I’ve been picking away at these rocks for thousands of years. This is Hel, man.”
The never-ending clamor of metal striking rock continued on for another year as Burden and I dug deeper through the sickly pale ground.
This world was Hel.
Probably.
Though, it certainly wasn’t what I pictured when I imagined what Hel should look like.
Pools of Helfire and sulfur? Lakes of Lava? Devils and Demons?
Nope. None of that here.
I’ve never felt exhaustion, hunger, or boredom.
I just dig.
Swinging this pickaxe all day, every day—though there aren’t really days in this place.
“Hey, Rayne. You think you’ll ever get out of this place?” Burden asked his yearly question once more, a minute later than the year before.
I shook my head, wiping a head of sweat from face. “My answer is gonna be the same as it is every time. Nope. We’re in Hel and this is it forever.”
We went back to wordlessly swinging our picks against the pale stone again, and another year passed.
“Hey, Rayne. Were you always alone before I got here?”
Burden asked the same—
“Huh? Threw me for a loop there with something new. Was I what?”
He set his pick down and arched his back, as if stretching.
“Well, I been thinking. I asked, if you’d always been alone. Ya’ know, before I got here.”
I thought back, unraveling some ten-thousand years of memories. Most of them were just me breaking rocks.
In this place, where my state of being seemingly never changed, my mind was clear and sharp.
Every instant recorded in a nearly perfect manner.
Every question Burden had asked and the exact minute he’d asked it, almost down to the second.
I could recall each moment over the past ten-thousand years.
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Was I alone before Burden?
Yes.
Wait… no?
Maybe I don’t know.
As I thought back on the many years, my mind began to feel hazy—my thoughts unclear. The memories of the beginning just weren’t there.
“Dunno.” I finally said.
Burden gave me a concerned look, “You… don’t know?”
“Can’t remember.” I shrugged.
“You don’t remember your time in paradise!?” he practically shouted.
Paradise?
The word sounded familiar, but…
“What’s that?” I said, my head tilted.
“Where you were before this!” he exclaimed, “All elves live in paradise with every desire and want fulfilled for eternity.”
“That sounds awfully nice. But if that’s true, why are you and I in Hel, then?”
My question didn’t seem like it was too complicated to answer, but Burden retreated into thought.
“Do you remember other people at all?” he finally asked another question.
Hmm. That’s a good question too.
“I know I had parents.” I admitted, “But I don’t recall what they looked like or what their names were—Oh, but I do know they weren’t here. Which means I wasn’t always here… Hmm, so maybe that was in this paradise place you’re talking about.”
Burden’s expression relaxed a bit.
“Do you remember anyone else?”
I was certain I didn’t after reviewing all of my memories.
“Nope.” I said flatly.
And we continued to dig for in silence.
A year passed, and Burden missed the anniversary of his usual question asking.
More years past and it seemed like Burden had finally given up on asking his trademark questions.
I wasn’t sure why, but something about that made me feel quite sad.
“Hey, Rayne.”
Burden’s voice echoed through the new rocky tunnel we’d been digging out for the past seventy-three years since he’d given up on his questions.
“Yeah, Burden?”
“How long has your hair been graying?”
“Eh? What’re you talking about? My hair is brown. Always has been.”
“Is that so?” he muttered, “My mistake then.”
The lonely sound of metal against stone continued for another hundred years before Burden asked me another question.
“Hey, Rayne. You think you’ll ever get out of this place?”
“Hah!” I chuckled, “That’s a question I haven’t heard in some time. No, I don’t think I ever will.”
“Well, I think you will.” Burden declared with a bit of gusto.
“Oh ho? And what makes my junior sufferer think he’s so sure?”
I set my pick down and crossed my arms, awaiting his response.
“Because,” he started, crossing the gap between us and slowly raising the sharp-bladed end of his pick towards my head, “When I first got here your hair was already graying, and now it’s almost completely white.”
The edge of his pick cut away at my hair and Burden gently grasped a lock before it fell.
A little bundle of hair, as white as snow, was trapped between his fingers.
My body suddenly felt rather tense as my gaze narrowed in on the strange sight.
“That’s… weird.” I said under my breath.