-11-

[https://i.imgur.com/LoYByv0.png]

A tremendous storm raged across the sky above me. Dark vortexes revolved as jagged lines of energy clashed in a battle. An unnerving blackness filled the space around it.

Blankly, I stared upwards at the curious void. Minutes turned to hours. Hours to days. Days became eons.

I suppose I’m dead then.

I had imagined that this would be a more grand experience. You die, you meet your God.

Or something.

Anything.

This… was a whole lot of nothing.

Could I be having another one of those episodes?—But if I am, then whose wasteland of a memory is this?

I don’t know how long I stared at the oddity in the sky. In the back recesses of my mind I wondered if I could lie here forever.

Fixating on that thought, I sighed deeply.

And then, a blurry figure leaned over me. I blinked. An even-toned voice asked me a simple question.

"Will you lie there forever?"

Perhaps I will.

I blinked a few more times and the blurred-blob came into focus. The edges of a pale, gaunt face peeked out from the bottom of a dark hooded mask.

Eccentric metal plates were fixed upon their shoulders, inset with skulls. A billowing green robe flowed down around their thin frame, subtle runes glowed along the seams; the whole imposing outfit was completed by a leather binding that clasped around their waist, it too bearing another skull which adorned its center.

The radiating aura of magickal energy around them was overwhelming, disrupting even the pressure in the air.

Whoever this was, they had incredible power.

"I believe you actually might. However, it is time to move on."

"…"

Wait—Did you just read my thoughts?

"There are no thoughts for the dead."

"Oh."

My voice was dry and gravelly. My mind winced, expecting it to be painful to utter those scratchy words—but…

I didn’t feel… any pain.

"There is no pain for the dead."

"Ah."

I awkwardly stumbled to my feet. The area around me was dry and without any striking features. It was just a blank landscape. No rocks, no trees, nothingness for eternity.

"I am Mors."

"Nice to… meet you? I’m Airis—"

"I am aware of who you are."

Their voice was the same even tone as before. I didn’t know whether to take that statement as annoyance, or if they were just stating it as fact.

"It is just a simple fact. I know of you already."

"Okay—any chance you can knock that off? The whole, responding to my thoughts, thing."

"I cannot know if you are speaking or thinking. They are the same in this realm. I do not watch for your lips to move as you communicate."

Fair point.

"Are you ready to depart?"

Depart for where? I glanced around the barren area around us again to see if I could discern any notable landmarks, but it was the same unending nothingness as before.

“Where are we going? And also, where are we?”

“Away from this place.”

“And this place is?”

“Not where we need to be.”

Great, I’ve found the underworld version of Julius.

“This is not the Underworld.”

I resisted the urge to slap my hands against my head in frustration. Not because it would hurt, since apparently there was no way to feel pain, but rather I didn’t want to get caught up in whatever games Mors was playing.

“I am not playing games. It is that answering your questions in length will slow us down, and we have somewhere to be.”

Though Mors had said there was no pain, I felt a twinge of an ache sting my forehead.

"Lead the way, Mors."

Mors turned away and dark-feathered wings flared outwards in full stretch.

What are you, an angel of death?

“No.”

Stop reading my mind!

We walked a winding pathway that descended further down the barren landscape. The path was barely discernible from the surrounding ground. Like two varied shades of beige, if you looked close enough you may be able to tell that that they were different… but ultimately they were both still beige, and you weren’t any better off after having come to a conclusion.

If I glanced away, my eyes would reset and the path would be lost to me until I caught the subtle differences again. Mors did not seem to have such an issue. Whether they had walked this path many times and knew the route, or if there was something of a more magickal nature at work, I couldn’t say.

Eventually, a stone archway came into view along the horizon. As we got closer the sheer size of the construction overwhelmed me. It soared higher than the tallest spires in Axio.

I gasped in amazement.

My odd companion answered my unasked question.

"It is the Arch of the Dead."

"What does it do?"

"It does nothing. It is just a stone archway."

"Oh."

"You expected something more?"

"You know I did, mind reader."

Mors continued to walk but did not respond immediately, rather waiting until after we passed under the gigantic archway.

"You are not what I had expected, Lady Vanixi."

The way Mors called me 'Lady Vanixi' struck me with unease. Nobody addressed me like that outside of palace staff or nobles at court. Mors didn’t strike me as a servant of anyone. Were they a noble in another life…

"I am neither. I am the Avatar of Death. The Gatekeeper to the Aver’teria. The place your people call, the Underworld."

"Well there certainly is a lot of unpack there—how about we start with something simple. What were you expecting?"

"A petulant child."

Wow! Okay.

"No need to raise your voice."

I groaned loudly in response and Mors stopped. Though, not due to any action on my part.

We had arrived at a vast cliff.

It was seemingly the end of the world. Nothing existed past the edge of the flaky rock. Darkness enveloped the horizon.

That endless darkness did little to unnerve me. I stepped forward and sat on the cliff's edge, letting my feet dangle over the void.

Looking out into the absence of stuff, I became aware of a certain stillness—my own.

My mind was eerily calm as I realized the truth. No breath had come from my lungs these past hours as we walked. No beating drumline from my heart. My body, as I sat here, was in perfect stillness.

"You are rather quick to accept your predicament."

"Oh?"

"That is what was not expected, truly. Even now, as you sit and contemplate your missing heart beat. You continue to surprise me. Though I was prepared to deal with a rather unruly spirit when I accepted the task to retrieve you."

"Retrieve… me?"

"There are no souls of the dead here. When one dies on the mortal plane, they are ushered to the Realm of the Dead. Souls do not linger here."

"Then why did I linger here?"

It was a question to myself, more than a question to Mors. A brief moment of introspection. Perhaps I had an unresolved conflict. A love that wasn’t given time to bloom. The hopes and dreams of the lost people of a fallen empire that I swore wouldn’t fade away.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Nothing so abstract, I am afraid. Simply, there is One who would see you before you move on."

"And you are my usher."

"It is my role as steward."

"Last question for now, why did you think I’d be unruly?"

"You have caused quite the stir among those who the One who would see you despises. I was led to believe you were stubborn and hard of will."

"Well, I guess some people have told me I'm a bit stubborn at times. Any chance that you could be convinced to be less cryptic about the whole, the One, thing?"

In keeping with the ominous tone and feel of this particular place, Mors didn’t respond but stepped out over the cliff. Their foot came down flatly in the empty space above the void.

I don't think anything can phase me anymore.

I took the dramatics to mean it was time to keep moving forward. Wherever that would lead us. I followed Mors' footsteps and walked above the endless darkness.

----------------------------------------

If there was a single thing that could be presented as an improvement for the afterlife, it would be any form of quick transportation.

After a lifetime of walking, we arrived on the other side of the abyss.

The landscape here was dramatically different from the lifeless blight that was the Wanderer’s Plane. That was what the place we had left was called, according to Mors. This new plane was the Coil of Ascendance. A weird name if you asked me.

Which nobody did.

Since there wasn’t another soul in sight.

"There are others here. This plane is not the same as the one we left."

The even-toned Mors continued to scold my lack of knowledge.

We walked up a hill of lush grass and ferns. Small trees broke the horizon and a soft bubbling creek could be heard close by. The blinding contrast of this place and where we had come from, shattered any preconceptions I had of where we might be going.

Among the verdant green there were breaks in the canvas. Tall stems grew up from the grass. At the apex sat an explosion of color. Vibrant blood-red petals bloomed in an irregular fashion around the center of the flower. Like the legs of a spider, crimson tines curled up around the center bulb. Araneaous Laemni. More commonly known as a blood-spider lily. They were associated with death and disruption in the old Empire.

"Among this field of heralds are those who would keep you from seeing the One who seeks you."

“What are heralds, and what do you mean ‘there are those who would keep’ me?”

“You were just speaking of them. The blood-spider lilies, as you called them.”

"These flowers? We have them back in the mortal plane."

"Do you now?"

"…"

The more I spoke with Mors, the more I missed my friends. It was nothing short of infuriating trying to respond to these curt replies. It seemed frustration was a universal feeling for both the living and the dead.

I had no way to gauge the meaning or inflection of their voice. I tried again to make a breakthrough.

"It is odd that the same flower exists in both the mortal plane and this one."

"I do not notice such trivial things. Though—I am aware that they are quite beloved by the One who calls this place home."

"Is that… one, the same one that wants to see me?"

"It is that One.”

This information did not help me in the slightest right now. But it is said that knowledge is power. And I had a feeling that having any sort of power here could be worth something.

I stepped over a spider lily trying to keep pace with Mors, who was blazing forward.

My strides were short and meticulous. No way was I going to step on any of these flowers if they truly were ‘beloved’ by the being that lived here.

We continued further into the thicket, avoiding fields of lilies. I was about to ask Mors how much further we needed to walk, but screamed a mental 'Nevermind!' to stop Mors from invasively responding to my thoughts. I decided that I would practice a sense of mindfulness and keep my head clear.

Though, almost immediately, my meditation was interrupted short by the presence of shrouded figures looming in a field we passed through. Dark cloth draped around their bodies, making it impossible to tell what they were.

They were motionless at first, but as Mors passed by them they began to turn.

"The reaper…"

"…comes."

Two of them spoke the ominous phrase.

The reaper comes?

"What are they, Mors?"

"They are servants of the One who resides here. Be wary, they are easily provoked."

I took extra care to avoid getting close to the shrouded figures, and kept my watch for flowers. My pace had slowed to a crawl at this point. Mors continued to speed ahead.

Jerk.

We passed through a dense grove of overgrown trees, into a clearing.

The grass here was short, almost like it had been cut and maintained. A small stone pathway was set into the ground, leading to a slab of white stone that looked like an altar.

Mors approached the standing rocks and spoke in that trademark tone of neutrality.

"I have arrived, as you commanded."

I expected a burst of light. Or a bolt of lightning. But nothing happened.

No dramatic entrance like you'd see written in a play. Instead, Mors just took a seat at the foot of the stone slab.

"It may be some time."

They should call this place the Coil of Agony.

The dead did not get tired or have a need for sleep. So, I plopped down next to Mors. Together we sat there, the Avatar of Death and a lost Empress. I asked more questions, and received mostly vague answers.

It was a long time before Mors stood before the altar again. Time seemed to stand still here, there was no Sun in the sky to cast shadows.

It could have been days or weeks that had passed. Finally, a ripple in the air formed in front of us. Its intensity magnified until it formed a long tear in the space around it.

A portal.

It shined brilliantly, white light washed over the stones around us.

The first through the portal was a womanly figure clad in golden armor. She stood at the same height as Mors, but her demeanor was much more lively. In contrast to Mors’ dark, green and black robe; she wore a blue skirted plate-dress. Runes glowed along the seams, in the same manner as Mors. Winged shoulder plates complimented a pair of white-feathered wings. She stood opposite Mors, positioned so that the both of them flanked the portal.

Between the two winged attendants, a much more imposing creature came forth.

A slender, human-like, feminine body floated a few feet above the ground, sporting a set of wings just as the two before her. Intricate runic patterns pulsated all along her body. Her arms and hands were humanoid in shape, long and slender—but her fingers were like deadly talons, bone-white and sharp at the tips like needles. An elegant curvature of her thighs gave way to a disturbing bend in her knees.

[https://i.imgur.com/qLmfIee.png]

Visions of the terrible monster that was responsible for me being here, flooded my mind.

Just like the Archdemon Asteryith, her legs bent backwards at unsightly angles. Unlike the Terror Demon though; her lower legs were feathered, and ended in a taloned foot.

Her face had soft features, appearing hauntingly beautiful—but also intimidating. Eyes of amethyst stared through me, as if she could see into my very being.

And with a voice so melodic, its soothing softness contradicting her predatory features, she greeted me.

"Welcome to my domain, Airis Vanixi. I am Virgo, Avatar of Heroes, the Celestial Goddess of Immortality. You have many questions. I will answer them for you, in time—but first, I have a proposition for you."

Wide eyed and mouth gaping open, I stared at the being in front of me.

Before me, was one of the twelve Celestials. The Gods that shaped the very world. This eldritch horror was a betrayal of every expectation that the Church of the Consecrated Light had ingrained into me when I was a child.

According to scripture, the Celestials were heavenly beings of light, beautiful angelic figures that blessed humankind with affinities for magick. They were benevolent Gods that watched over us and cared for us.

I was entranced with Virgo, who levitated in front of me. Darkened smoke and demonic features conflicted gospel leaving me grasping at a response.

Had she said that she had a proposition for me?

A Celestial Goddess, propositioning a mortal. The very concept would have me chased out of the Church for heresy. A nervous laugh escaped my lips, and my face flushed hot in embarrassment as I quickly covered my mouth.

“There is no need to be nervous, my chosen one. I acknowledge that my presence, and possibly my existence, comes as a shock to you. Take the time you need to come to terms.”

“No, that’s okay. I think I’ve come close enough to terms with all of this. If I think about it anymore it’s just going to make my head explode.” I shook my head, trying to fling any existential thoughts into oblivion. The last thing I needed right now was to have a personal crisis.

“Well then, chosen, about my proposition. I wish to grant you a boon—a gift that only I may give—the gift of immortality.”

Unconsciously I let out a dull, “Uhhhhh.”

Quickly catching, and mentally chastising myself, I blurted out two questions in a high-pitched voice.

“What in the Aether do you mean by chosen? And what does immortality entail!?”

Virgo’s expression turned sour. Puzzled, she looked at Mors who was standing silently nearby.

“Did you tell her nothing?”

“I was not aware that I was to tell her anything.”

Virgo sighed melodically.

“Eons ago, I looked upon the world and saw only war and destruction. The elder races, the ones you call the Elves and Noblebourne, had been waging war for hundreds of years. Pointless squabbles over arbitrary boundary lines. Fueled by their zealous lust to fulfill the desires of their Gods…”

Virgo’s face was full of sadness and her voice had a bitterness to it.

I wonder if it really pains her to talk about this—Eeep! The mind-reading!

She paid no mind to me though, and continued on.

Her fist hit with a thud against her chest, “I gave life to Humankind. A race of beings that were to be without the hatred and malice shown by the elder races. The first tribes were far removed, in the north. Hidden away from the prying eyes of the Others. Safe in the Dread Wastes. I limited their lifespans to a fraction of what the other races had.”

“I hoped they would cherish their time and be kind to one another. For two hundred years, they prospered without incident. So I expanded my efforts, creating new tribes in the southern reaches of Terae.”

Her posture relaxed with a deep sigh, her feet finally touching down onto the white stone slab. Walking down the pathway towards the grove, she stopped at a patch of lilies. Virgo knelt down and gently plucked one from the earth. “In a land called Van’Ixia, I created two tribes. One, a race of varied features. The other, a special race, of crimson hair and violet eyes. They were my chosen ones, tasked with glorious purpose… the Altaer.”

A special race of chosen people…

Crimson hair and violet eyes were a trademark trait of the House Vanixi, every direct member of my family had those characteristics.

Is she saying that the entire family line of the Empire was created by her?

“It is exactly so.”

“So, because I’m one of these… one of your, Altaer? I have some hidden purpose?”

“Your purpose was not hidden!” She lashed out, “It was disrupted… In the event you call the Apocalypse, my Altaer were denied their birthright. You are one of two that remain, of the true bloodline.”

“And because of that, you want to grant me Immortality? Eternal life… What’s the catch, do I have to give you my soul?”

Virgo smirked. Her grin widened, showing lines of sharp fang-like teeth.

A light chuckle turned to a maniacal laugh as she spoke. “Hah! Give me your soul? Oh little one, your soul is already mine, since the day you were born. Ha-ha-ha!”

Mors interjected as Virgo was cackling in a fit of laughter, “Where I found you, you were there because your soul is tied to this realm. Others do not linger here, they move on to Aver’teria. Your soul is… unique.”

“The figures we passed in the grove… Those were the souls of other Altaer?”

“Yes.”

Then my Father could have been among them—

Virgo broke my thought, speaking solemnly, “No. Theodin is not one among the guardian spirits of my groves…”

Her voice trailed off as she peered past the wild boughs. That pained, full of sadness, expression was back in full bloom across her face.

“Not yet. But I will ensure he is eventually. His time was interrupted short, like yours…”

“What about my mother? She may not be Altaerian by blood, but—”

“Your mother is not in any of the domains of Aver’teria. She lives yet.”

A wave of relief crashed over me. Truly, if my mother lived then this was a blessing of itself. But where had she ended up in the aftermath…

“However, back to my offer. There is no catch. There have been too many disruptions by the Others, and I have aligned myself with another Celestial who promised to help us achieve our purpose. If you don’t accept, then I will just have to find another in the line that will.”

“Can I have a moment to think it over?”

Another wicked grin sprawled across Virgo’s face.

“We have all the time in the Aether.”