In the spectral twilight of our shared consciousness, I stood facing Jeldorain. The dreamscape around us was a forest, frost glittering from leafless trees under a sky of deep blue and purple, stars twinkling distant and beautiful. The air was clear and clean, like the snowcapped forests of my own hometown winters, and I felt a strong sense of yearning.

Whether it came from Jeldorain or from myself, I couldn't tell.

I saw him sitting underneath the biggest oak I'd ever glimpsed, a mighty structure as wide as a castle tower that thrust into the air to an impossible height, its branches reaching skeletal fingers into the eternal night. His eyes glowed faintly, like distant lanterns in an otherworldly night.

We were sharing a vision, I knew. But I wasn't sure where it was or why he was sharing it. The place was one of importance, I could sense, and it was intimate and secret. He stared at me, full-bodied without any sense of spectral existence, and I strode over, hearing the crunch of ice-frosted snow under the bareness of my feet.

That part shocked me and I looked down, seeing that I was full-bodied as well. And naked.

Jeldorain laughed. “I didn't know what you'd want to wear,” he said, shrugging. I felt no cold as I walked over, instead just that yearning. And also awe, mixed well with a large dose of apprehension.

“What is this place?” I asked. I fought the urge to point—he knew what I meant. He nodded at my question, letting out a long sigh.

“This is where I was born.”

Scanning the place, seeing the serenity of it, I frowned. “You showed me the Icy Hell you came from before. Full of screaming and wailing, storms, iced lakes and rivers. Not this place.”

He nodded again and grunted. As he grunted, a gust of icy wind swept through the forest, causing the trees to sway and groan, mirroring his turmoil. “Is all your world, your original one, a great frosty forest like that came to mind when I brought you here?”

I shook my head. “No, we have all sorts of spots. Beaches, deserts, jungles . . .”

“It is the same with the Hells. Not all of them are unpleasant for your kind. And to be honest, this place here has always been my favorite. I rose here of the snow, come from another infernal life before, or so my memories seem to tell me. Life is long and unending, the tormented souls will never have reprieve, and I don't know that I understood that before our joining.”

“Is there a Hell where souls find peace, or is it all an endless cycle of torment?” I asked.

“Thrynheimer says that once all was us, and this, and that his greed and ours caused us to become what we are. That forever we shall suffer the torment of want. He has never spoken of the rest, of life and love. You humans want, but you also have. We have our bodies and our might, but somehow in your insignificance you have so much more.”

His words left me pondering the vastness of his existence compared to our fleeting human lives. Eternity. The way he talked about it, his life wasn’t much different from those that he tormented.

Pausing in my stride, then hunching down before him, I let the silence reign for just a bit longer, enjoying the tranquility of this infernal forest. “How much did you see?” I asked him. Part of me felt like maybe I should be outraged, but instead I felt pity. If he was as eternal as he said he was, experiencing my life had to have been a hell of an eye-opener.

“That it was,” he chuckled. “You humans, you are so short-lived and yet so powerful. From your mind I have seen the steel of weapons forged into wagons and sent into the sky. Metal tubes that spit fire and explode mountains. Metal boxes that grind dirt and snow, plowing ahead to blast enemies in the hundreds and thousands. And yet, with the great powers of your hell, you manage to live and love and enjoy life in a way we never can.”

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Staring at his face, I nodded. It was certainly a novel way to describe the humanity of earth.

“And how you all hunger. Power, greed, flesh, coin, they all have such a prominent place there. But that is just one side, isn't it. There is your family, your pets, your land, home, town, friends. I am willing to help you get back to that.”

“Thank you, Jeldorain,” I said, looking into his eyes. “I haven't been able to experience your life. What is it that you are going back to?”

He laughed, a deep-throated chuckle that sounded like ice cracking and falling into a metal basin. “My body. I am essentially a god, Ryan. I'm used to being all powerful, reigning over my own serfdom of souls as I see fit, to the pleasure of myself.” He opened his mouth to say more, then abruptly closed it.

“What are your pleasures?” I asked.

“I — I don't know anymore. I loved tormenting the souls of the damned. The many beings from the many worlds who sold us their eternal spirits in exchange for some short-lived luxury on their worlds in their times. But, it feels so shallow now. We are what we've always been. Us infernals, we don't evolve. It is no wonder we lost our place in this world. I have seen things I think maybe I was never supposed to see.”

“Who tells an infernal what he is supposed to see or not see?” I asked. “Thrynheimer?”

Jeldorain chuckled again, his laughter warmer and more genuine. “Thrynheimer demands we follow the rules of the Pact, and gives us the Limitless Ice in which to hold land and pledge fealty. His will is not what keeps us down. It is our own natures. I've many things to think about, oh great champion. But, now, let us speak of the Infernal's Pact between us.”

I took a deep breath, feeling the odd sensation of air that wasn't air filling my lungs. “I'm not giving up my soul, just to be clear.”

He grinned, jagged icy-teeth gleaming with some unknown spectral energy. “Agreed. I doubt I could keep such a subject as yourself in my thrall for long anyways.”

I smiled back. Things felt calmer now, all emotions winnowed down to a shared focal point of agreement. “Alright, let's lay down some ground rules. First, we need autonomy. Times when I lead, and times when you do. And when it's someone's turn, the other respects their control. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Jeldorain responded, his voice a low rumble. “But with a condition—absolute honesty. No secrets in this shared space. We must be transparent with each other, for deceit will only lead us to ruin.”

I nodded, surprised. “Honesty being asked for from an infernal. Seems strange. But I've got it. What's next?”

“Our paths,” Jeldorain began, his eyes reflecting a glacial resolve. “Yours, your home and life back. Mine, my body and life back. We must align our actions so that each step forward benefits both causes. This alliance is not just about survival, but about purpose. Whatever the future deals us, those are our goals, the rest of it be damned.”

I nodded solemnly. “Purpose. Right. We're in this together, for better or worse. But what about the endgame? When all this is over, what then?”

Jeldorain’s expression softened slightly. “When the time comes, we part ways with respect. I will aid you in returning to your world, and you will help me regain mine. Until that moment, our fates are intertwined.”

As we spoke, a tangible energy began to swirl around us, glowing snowflakes and motes of frost speckled with the breath of the tundra.

“We must also act within the bounds of society, Jeldorain. We don't harm civilians.”

Jeldorain grimaced. “My urges are primal, of the lands of the eternal. But with all that is at stake, I accept your conditions. But, when my urges are great, and there will be no damage to anything but enemies or beasts, I will be given succor.”

My mind played back the absolute desecration of the cave bear, and shivers lit over my bare flesh as I remembered both the grotesqueness of the act, and the thrilling joy of it.

Shifting my weight, feeling the crunch of the frost beneath my feet, I was reminded of the surreal reality we inhabited. Jeldorain’s gaze followed my movements, a silent acknowledgment of our shared experience together in this place of goblins and heroes.

I extended my hand, a human gesture of agreement. Jeldorain looked at it, a flicker of curiosity in his icy gaze, before extending his own. Our hands met, not in a physical clasp, but in a meeting of essences. The energy around us peaked, sending ripples through the dreamscape.

“We are now allies in this strange journey,” Jeldorain declared. “Let this pact guide us through the trials ahead.”

I felt a renewed sense of purpose, a clarity that had been elusive since my arrival in this world. “To new beginnings,” I said, a hint of a smile on my lips.

“Would you mind if I stayed here longer?” he asked, gesturing around. “You may have the body to yourself while I think some things over.”

I saluted him, and the dreamscape began to fade, the frost-laden trees dissolving into the ether. As my consciousness started to drift back to reality, Jeldorain's distracted voice echoed in my mind. “Such weak, short-lived, powerful beings. It is a wonder they have conquered us all.”

Back to our shared body, I stared out over the campsite, without words and surprised to find that I also had some things to think over.