The subtle breeze of the spirit Aether swept through him. Memories of his life, his love, home, family, friends and enemies coursed through him. That was the sign, this was it, it was his time.
He turned to face his body, the only remnant of the mortal he once was. The motionless corpse provided a small window to the mortal realm, it rested amongst the other corpses littering the field. His body looked so peaceful, almost as if he had accepted, welcomed and resigned himself to his fate. With a smile he turned away from his body and walked away from the battlefield and into the mist of the space between realms, into the void.
In the distance was a great golden light, a sort of beacon to light the way. It was the destination of everyone who dies, the celestial realm. All souls eventually went there, plants, animals, mortals, even the spirits of inanimate objects. The end of all things and the afterlife, an eternity with the gods.
However, as he reached the light, the gates to the heavens glowed and reality finally sunk in. The very entrance to heaven, the golden gates, were closed tightly shut. Memories rushed back, he knew all along that the heavens were gone, and the gate was sealed forever. That’s correct, of course he knew, his soul simply feigned ignorance out of regret for his mistakes. The light was the golden gate, all that remained behind it was darkness. His fate was to roam the astral plane for eternity. His eternal isolation a curse to plague him as it had everyone before him. He was stuck between the mortal world and the celestial in an abyss of infinite darkness and silence, a fitting punishment.
With that realization, he resigned himself to eternal death. If he could not see his love again then nothing mattered anymore. The tired man sighed a heavy sigh and gave into despair. He looked down at his hands, watching them fade away as his astral form dissolved into mist from the tips of his fingers and toes, moving up along his limbs, progressing toward his torso. His body too followed as his limbs vanished and faded to mist, he took in one last breath in preparation for his non-existence and closed his eyes–
Andrews eyes shot open as someone interrupted his descent with a firm grip on his shoulder. Slowly, his eyes refocused on the astral mist around him and the sight of a pale, sickly looking old man was in front of him. The man’s eyes missing from his sockets, his hair just a few grey strands, his skin tightly clinging to his skinny form as though there was no muscle or fat between skin and bone; he looked like a dried-out corpse. If not for the gray leather robes, the man would no doubt have visible ribs.
The newcomer’s eyes flashed a bright red, their eerie glow fading out through the astral mist around them. As the red glow from the skeleton’s eyes enveloped them both, Andrew’s astral form began to heal, reforming from the very mist around them. The skeletal man’s jaw opened unnaturally wide, his rough leathery skin almost cracking as it stretched open and released a red mist that poured out and mixed with the silverish blue misty sea of the void. The two mists began to swirl together and mix before moving away from them and creating a clear opening. The two mists then separated once more, the red mist from the man swirling around them as if forming a barrier from the soul consuming silver mist.
Having created a brief respite, the stranger closed his mouth, his cheek’s flesh and jaw healing as they returned to their natural position.
“Do not surrender yourself just yet” The entities voice rang out inside Andrew’s head, an emotionless calm and soothing voice. His voice sounding almost heavenly and wise, as if spoken from the mouth of an ancient wise sage.
Andrew looked down at his reconstituted hands, opening and closing them into a fist before relaxing and turning his attention to the man.
“Why though?” he glanced at the misty red wall holding the astral sea at bay before glancing back to his limbs and finally back to the man. “Why interrupt my descent? I was ready for death; it would be a worthy punishment.” He said with dumbfounded and downtrodden expression.
The man looked off into the distance behind Andrew, Andrew’s gaze followed the man’s, but he saw nothing in that direction. He looked back to the man to see him staring off into the mist and his mouth was moving as though he was conversing with something; but Andrew heard only silence.
“Long ago,” At the sound of his voice, Andrew’s attention snapped back to the stranger. “I met a woman who came here. Many acted as you have, resigning themselves to eternal death. All the while leaving their astral form a husk to pray on mortals…”
The undead paused, glanced past Andrews shoulders once more. He held his gaze for longer, seemingly communicating with an entity Andrew could not see.
“But” the man continued. “that woman was unique. She reminded me of an old friend of mine, and we too became friends. Astral bodies cannot see each other, so she asked me to help you.”
He paused once more and stared deep into Andrew’s eyes. His red eyes seemed to shift into a violet hue, as he stood silently as if thinking deeply or in a daze. Finally, the silence broke, but what came out was a woman’s voice.
“Andrew.” the voice spoke calmly and softly. Andrew eyes widened in surprise.
“Elise?” he mumbled in shock as he stared at the male skeletal form. It wasn’t her body, but it was her voice. “I… I’m so sorry—"
“There isn’t much time, so just listen.” She interrupted. “We will meet again on the day the gods return to the heavens and reforge the celestial realm. I don’t blame you for my death, so please live your life to its fullest, because even in death, I still love you with all my heart, so please, don’t do anything rash… my… lov…—" her voice began to fade and finally she went silent, and the violet hue of her eyes returned to the crimson red of the man.
Andrew dropped to his astral knees. Years of repressed guilt and emotions exploded as a torrent of tears began to stream down his face. As if a decade of regret had been lifted just by hearing her voice once more. At his core he was a weak man, simply going through life day by day doing what he thought he needed to do, simply fulfilling responsibilities, but now he once more felt the desire to enjoy life.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
The skeletal man looked down at the weeping Andrew who was now kneeling on his knees and crying as his astral body began to break down again. From the tips of his fingers and toes, his astral form began to fade into mist and once more drift toward the silver mist of the void. The red mist seemingly failing to protect him any longer.
Andrew looked down at his limbs. All four were fading into mist faster than before, he frantically looked around to see the mist leaving his astral form and merging with the silvery mist of the void.
His gaze shot back to, and locked onto, the skeletal stranger.
“Why!” Andrew shouted out in desperation, his voice seeming to echo in the void as he cried out. “Why is this happening! I don’t want to vanish, please…”
The undead slowly raised his wrinkled and cracked skeletal hand to his chin.
“well, I seem to have been too late.” The undead said in a matter-of-fact monotone.
“Do something!” Andrew yelled and looked down. “Please… save me…” he muttered as he started blankly at his fading body.
There was a way for the stranger to help, but it would break many of the Arbiter’s laws, most likely would anger their lord. However, he didn’t want to break his promise to the woman Elise. The undead looked up and scratched his leathery chin, hesitating as he tried to decide what he should do.
After a short pause, hastened by Andrews quickly fading body, the undead let out a sigh and looked down at Andrew.
“Fine,” he spoke down to Andrew. “As an arbiter of death, I’m not allowed to do this, but I promised Elise I would protect you.”
The man reached down and grabbed Andrew’s shoulder; his icy touch sent shivers down Andrew’s astral spine. Before Andrew could speak the stranger forcefully dragged his astral form through the red misty barrier, back into the depths of the silver mist. His body responded instantly as the silvery mist seemed to eat at his astral from with renewed vigor, the silver mist churned violently around them as they passed through it. The silver mist devoured Andrew’s soul ss if it had a mind of its own and was starving from a lack of souls. The mist seemed to hastily attempt to claim his soul before the Arbiter’s intervention.
“You need to reacclimate your astral body, your soul, to your material body—” The arbiter said as they both drew closer to where Andrew died. His body coming into view once more as mist began to eat at his shoulders and abdomen. “—and to do that without an arbiter of life, you must become an undead and possess your corpse.”
“Wait, what!” Andrew shouted as the arbiter of death lifted his astral torso by his hair. Andrew’s limbless ethereal form swung in the silvery mist around them, his corpse just beneath him as the arbiter looked him in the eyes.
The arbiter held him up to his eye level, staring intently, almost with a malicious glare. He held his gaze for a few seconds, glancing past Andrew once more and nodding before returning his attention to Andrew.
“I will use this opportunity though…” the arbiter finally said after his brief silence. “Your astral body will heal in your physical body if you regularly partake of a special alchemic elixir, the knowledge to make it I will impart to you. Additionally, I have a task for you from Elise, something I too need done. There is a girl, her soul ripped asunder, you will find the one you trust the most and help her reunite her shards.”
“huh!?!” Andrew exclaimed in panic, “wait, I have question—”
“Do not die before I recollect your soul,” The arbiter cut him off. Andrew didn’t wish to be silent but found he couldn’t speak at all anymore. “if you die, your soul will shatter, and you will die permanently.”
The arbiter paused briefly and lifted Andrew dangling torso even higher. The arbiter’s eyes glowing a bright crimson red as Andrews astral form began to heal and glow, though his soul began to take on a blood red hue.
“Do not die” The arbiter continued “find the girl, repair her soul, and whatever you do, do not drink the blood of Astarte’s Children. Good luck on your revival.”
The arbiter abruptly thrust Andrew’s astral form back into his body. A bright flash of red shot out through the silver mist of the veil and Andrew’s perception of the silver sea faded quickly, but not before he could – albeit briefly – see Elise standing beside him. The last sight of the veil, the astral plane, was her blue eyes, her golden hair that fell over her shoulders, and her gentle smile.
------------------
Andrew’s eyes shot open. He glanced around in a hasty panic to get his barring, but he saw nothing. His confusion grew worse as his senses slowly came back to his. He could not see anything, but he could feel as though he was completely engulfed by something, unable to move and freezing cold.
He tried to move but couldn’t. He tried to breath but couldn’t. More confusing he felt as though he did not need to breath. He ignored that thought and continued to try to move, this time focusing on each individual limp. Slowly he felt the substance on top of him move and give way to some freedom of movement, first his fingers, then his hand and little by little he could move his right arm. Andrew continued to struggle and finally, he felt enough movement with his arm that he tried to raise it with all his force.
Whatever was around him, around his right arm, broke apart and he felt his hand shoot free and finally he felt a soft breeze. With his hand he felt around, it was cold, wet, but almost like grass.
“I’m buried underground!” Andrew realized as panic set in and he frantically with all his might tried to free himself. In that moment he felt a surge of strength and shot out of the ground instantly with a loud boom. He stood up, raising himself above the surface. Andrew stood now surround by a cloud of raining dirt from his forceful exit as he waited for everything to calm and settle.
Finally, it cleared, and he was able to look around, it appeared to be the place of the battle, but there were no bodies or signs of a battle. The scares on the landscape seemed to be long healed as the trees that were destroyed were back and mature. He would have investigated more if not for the sudden strong thirst.
Andrew remembered a lake was nearby and set off running in its direction, he ran full force in a panicked stat. Much like his body’s strength, his legs seemed to carry him faster and father than he ever could before, but that surge of speed left him even more thirsty and exhausted. Finally, he reached the lake and dropped to his knees, with his hands he cupped up water and took gulp after gulp. Nothing he did quenched his thirst as he tried in vain to drink as much water as he could.
Just as he was beginning to grow frustrated and angry; he noticed his reflection in the water. His face and hair were barely noticeable in the moons light, but he could clearly see that his ginger hair and green eyes were now both crimson red. Andrew frantically looked at the rest of his body, first he noticed his old armor and clothing were still on him and covered in dirt. He continued to look over his body to see nothing out of the ordinary until he stopped at his nails, they were now sharp, almost like tiny claws.
However, none of this alleviated his thirst and he reflexively licked his lips as he stared at his nails. He paused once more as he felt something in his mouth, his teeth. Andrew looked at his reflection again and opened his mouth wide, his canines were unusually long and in his confused state he poked them with his fingers. He let out a yelp and quickly pulled his hand away. Not only were his canines longer, but they were also sharper, and his finger was cut and bleeding at the slightest touch. Concerned and confused, he looked down at his finger to see the wound quickly heal before his eyes.
“What Am I?” He questioned himself as he turned his gaze up toward the silent and lonely moon in the night sky.