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 just a whole lot of nothing.
Oh, 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 lingerhere?"
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.
"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.