The void surrounded me, thick and oppressive, like the darkest night that swallowed everything in its path. In this endless expanse, I felt weightless, a mere observer floating through Aric's memories as they unraveled before me.
I watched from a distance, as though through a veil, unable to interact with the world before me. It was strange, seeing things from this detached perspective. Aric's memories played out like a scene in a theater, and I was the sole audience to his forgotten life.
Aric's early years were shrouded in loneliness. Raised in seclusion, away from the world's warmth and light, his days were marked by a quiet, unyielding suffering. The stone walls of his home, cold and indifferent, seemed to reflect the isolation he felt. Each day bled into the next, filled with rigorous training and the weight of expectations that no one had bothered to explain to him.
His father, the bearer of the family relic, was a shadowy figure in these memories. Tall, imposing, and distant, he kept Aric at arm's length. There was no warmth in his gaze, no softness in his words. To the young Aric, his father was a looming presence, a figure of authority and mystery. The relic, always around his father's neck, was a source of fascination and fear. Its power was palpable, even from a distance, and it cast a long shadow over Aric's life.
The isolation wore on him, chipping away at his spirit. Every interaction with his father was steeped in formality, every day a battle to meet expectations he didn't understand. The weight of an unseen burden pressed down on him, making each breath feel heavy, each step a struggle. Yet, despite the harshness of his upbringing, there was a quiet strength in Aric. He endured, surviving each day, even as the reasons for his suffering remained elusive.
The memory shifted, and I was drawn into a pivotal moment in Aric's life—the day of his eighteenth birthday. The scene was sharp, vivid, every detail etched in my mind as though I were living it myself.
Aric stood in a dimly lit room, his eyes drawn to the relic his father always wore. It was an unassuming blue gem, attached to a simple pendant with a strange, swirling design that seemed to move when you weren't looking directly at it. That day, something about the relic called to Aric, a pull he couldn't resist. His father had left the room, leaving the relic unattended for Aric to watch over it for whatever reason, and in a moment of unthinking curiosity, Aric reached out to touch it.
The instant his fingers brushed against the cold metal, a violent surge of energy erupted from the relic, a wave of raw mana that blasted through Aric's body. It was like nothing he had ever felt before—a force so overwhelming that it tore through his very soul. Pain, blinding and all-consuming, exploded in his chest, and before he could even cry out, darkness engulfed him.
He collapsed, his body crumpling to the floor, unconscious before he even hit the ground. The memory blurred, and I was pulled deeper into the void, where the real nightmare began.
In this void, Aric was alone. The darkness was absolute, suffocating, and there was no sense of time or space. It was as though he had been cast into a realm that existed outside of reality, where light and sound had no place. But the silence didn't last.
Suddenly, the void was filled with whispers—soft at first, then growing louder and more frantic. They came from all directions, overlapping and merging into a cacophony that made Aric's head throb with pain. The voices were incomprehensible, their words twisted and distorted, as though spoken by beings that didn't understand human language. Aric clutched his head, trying to block out the noise, but the whispers seemed to bypass his ears, resonating directly in his mind.
As the whispers grew more intense, the pain in Aric's head became unbearable. Blood trickled from his ears, and he staggered, disoriented and terrified. Desperate to escape, he began to run, his feet pounding against the unseen ground. But no matter how fast he ran, the darkness stretched on, infinite and unchanging.
And then, the horror deepened. Aric looked down at his hands and saw them fading, becoming translucent. His body, once solid and real, was dissolving into the void. Panic gripped him, and he tried to run faster, but it was as though the air had turned to thick mud, resisting his every movement. He was being pulled apart, piece by piece, and the realization that he was disappearing, that his very existence was being erased, filled him with a terror beyond words.
Just as he was about to lose all hope, a light appeared in the distance, cutting through the darkness. It was faint at first, a pinprick of brightness in the endless void, but it grew steadily, becoming a beacon that drew him in. Aric stumbled toward the light, his body barely holding together, the whispers fading into the background as he focused on this new presence.
The light coalesced into a figure—featureless, yet radiating a warmth and calm that cut through the fear gripping Aric's heart. The figure stood before him, a being of pure, blinding light, without a face or form that could be defined. It was simply... there, a presence that filled the void with an overwhelming sense of power and serenity.
"You're fading," the figure said, its voice calm and resonant, like the chime of a bell. "Your spiritual
body can't withstand this place any longer. It's falling apart. Let me help you."
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Aric, his consciousness slipping, could only nod. The figure stepped closer and placed a hand on his head, a gentle touch that belied the immense power it wielded.
"I will lend you some of my mana," the figure said softly, "enough to sustain your spiritual body. Without it, you would become nothing more than an empty, soulless shell."
As the figure's mana flowed into Aric, warmth spread through his body, knitting his form back together. The pain subsided, and the blood dried up, as his body solidified once more. The darkness that had threatened to consume him retreated, and for the first time, Aric felt whole. But as the figure's light enveloped him, the world around him began to dissolve, fading into nothingness.
Aric's consciousness slipped away, the memory ending as he sank into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Aric's body began to fade out of the void, leaving me floating in the darkness. I was still focused on the figure made of light, and just then it turned towards me.
"??!" I was taken aback.
"I will need your help, hope you don't resent me too much for what I am about to do, Elijah."
I was startled when the figure spoke out my name, but before I could even understand anything, I was dragged from the air and forced into Aric's fading body.
...
As I was pulled into Aric's body, a sudden rush of sensations—pain, fear, confusion—all collided into a chaotic storm that threatened to consume me. The suffocating darkness of the void slowly gave way to an unbearable pressure, as though the air itself was crushing down on my chest. My vision blurred, and for a terrifying moment, I couldn't tell if I was still trapped in that void or if I had somehow returned to the waking world.
"Ugh…!" My voice raw and strained.
Then, with a jolt, everything snapped into focus.
I found myself lying on a cold stone floor, my limbs heavy and unresponsive. The room was dimly lit, with the flickering light of a single candle casting eerie, elongated shadows across the walls. As before I was still in Aric's body. But something was different this time—there was a weight in my chest, a heaviness that went beyond the physical. It felt as if the very essence of Aric's being had been forced upon me, melding with my own.
I tried to move, but my body felt sluggish. My mind raced to piece together what had just happened.
"Calm down," I had to reassure myself, struggling to sit up against the wall for support.
As I steadied myself, I could feel the remnants of Aric's memories lingering in the corners of my mind, like shadows that refused to disappear. The void, the whispers, the figure of light—they clung to me, constant reminders that I was no longer just Elijah. I had become something else entirely.
The figure in the void had said it needed my help, but what did that mean? And why had it chosen me? These questions spun in my mind, but no answers came. Instead, I was left with the gnawing sensation that whatever lay ahead would test me in ways I couldn't yet comprehend.
I could feel the weight of Aric's life, emotions, and very soul pressing down on me. Whatever lay ahead was far from simple. The lines between Aric and Elijah were blurring, and I wasn't sure where one ended and the other began.
Cold stone beneath me, an unfamiliar weight in my chest—I barely had time to process it all--
*Creak*
--Before the door creaked open, and Liora stepped into the room.
"Aric, why are you on the floor?" Her voice, laced with curiosity, echoed softly in the chamber.
How does she know I'm on the floor— Oh right, she examines her surroundings by detecting mana. Nearly forgot.
"Uh... I tripped, that's all." No better excuse came to mind.
Her concern was evident. "Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?"
"I'm fine. Don't worry."
A slight sigh of relief. "My... how can you be so careless, Aric? It's not been long since you last fell unconscious. Please refrain from doing anything that might put you in danger."
"Yes, Sister. I will keep that in mind."
"Good." Her tone lightened. "Oh, and I came to ask if you'd like to accompany me for a cup of tea in the garden."
The excitement in her voice was hard to ignore, and seeing her smile—though she didn't realize how much like an idiot she looked—I couldn't possibly say no.
"Of course. Let's head out."
Rising, I brushed the dust from my clothes and joined her. Now that I had Aric's memories, navigating the mansion came naturally. She held my arm as we walked through the grand hallways.
The transition from the stone walls to the open arches revealed a breathtaking garden, vast and filled with vibrant flowers and lush trees. A beautiful white stone fountain stood at its center, intricately designed, with water that seemed to dance in the sunlight. Nearby, a sitting area—reminiscent of an aristocratic tea party—invited us to rest.
Cause I was never allowed to really have time to go around the castle due my training for being a suitable head of family, "I" never really got to experience these places since i was kid. But now that I am 18, I have more of my freedom.
"Do you remember this place?" Her grip on my arm tightened ever so slightly.
I paused, taking in the scene. "I do now. It's... peaceful."
"It is, isn't it? We used to come here often as children." A hint of nostalgia colored her voice.
"Those memories are clearer now." A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, adding to the tranquility.
She released my arm and moved toward the fountain, her fingers brushing the cool stone. "This was always your favorite spot."
"Was it?"
A soft laugh escaped her. "Yes. You'd sit here for hours, lost in thought. I never understood what you were thinking about, but you always seemed so... distant."
"I suppose I was."
Silence settled between us, comfortable yet heavy with unspoken words. The garden, bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun, seemed almost ethereal—a place out of time.
She turned to face me, her expression unreadable. "Aric... do you ever wonder about the future?"
The question hung in the air, unexpected. "Sometimes."
Her gaze drifted to the sky. "I do too. More often than I'd like to admit."
I joined her by the fountain, the sound of trickling water filling the space between us. "What do you see?"
"A world where we're safe. Where our family is whole again."
"And do you think that's possible?"
A faint smile. "I have to believe it is."
The garden, once a place of simple childhood memories, now seemed to hold the weight of the world. The beauty of it all felt like a fragile dream, one that could shatter at any moment.
We sat there, side by side, the world outside the garden forgotten for a while. Yet, in the back of my mind, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was lurking just beyond the edges of this peaceful scene—something that would change everything.
...