Darkening

MysticShadowWanderer

Disclaimer: There are drivers... there are passengers... and then, there are those damn pedestrians.

Chapter Seven: Jouki
The feeling of disembodiment was unsettling, even though I should have been used to it from the meditation and astral projection that I employed nearly every day. What preoccupied my mind at the moment, though, was that I'd been practically yanked from my body in the instant of my death but I was still sitting here on the ground, outside my body and wondering how to proceed. It seemed to me that from the accounts I'd heard from others that this was roughly the time that I should be dead. It looked as though my body was lifeless, but from my experience and instinct, I was in no way ready to leave the realm of the living. Besides, I wasn't about to let something as meaningless as Death stand in the way of my ambitions. What was I to do then?

I drummed my spectral fingers against the ground and they seemed to move with all the adeptness that I typically possessed. A slow thought was traveling through me, and it seemed the proper time to pay it some heed. Cautiously I made my way closer to my physical body, still broken and bleeding, and stretched out my phantasmal arm to trail my fingertips down my own face. The sensation was jarring; it was as if I could feel the touch both physically and metaphysically, and I shivered. Closing my eyes, I gathered all the energy I could muster into a large, hotly burning sphere, and I shoved it from my hands into my tattered corpse. I watched with wide eyes as my body convulsed and my chest began to rise and fall again.

This was the answer, then. I had to heal myself. I sighed heavily at the prospect, because healing had never been my art. It had always been left to the woman that was always arguing with Skopos, Nutrire. When it was my only choice, however, I vowed to perfect the skill. I rested my hands at my temples, ignoring the feeling of my own cold blood beneath my fingers, and allowed a steady stream of energy to enter my body. I observed intently and in amazement as I saw my bones mending themselves, my spine straightening, and my head rising to rest naturally, though still not comfortably, against the stone floor. It seemed that in the past I had not given the proper respect to the powers of the Healers.

My body, I'm not sure which, perhaps both, gave a lurch, and I gasped as, with no notice whatsoever, I felt myself spiraling downward. Almost violently, if such a thing was possible, my eyes flew open and I realized that my spirit was once more housed within my physical body. Tentatively, I lifted a hand off the cold floor and held it up in front of my face. It was real enough to satisfy me, but I found the entire experience a bit unnerving at best. Better to ignore it and move on, I decided. Licentia was waiting, and so was all the world that was so unaware of the power that writhed just moments away.

I was taking a moment to collect my thoughts and reacquaint myself with my body when I realized that the scenery around me had changed and was changing more quickly the more I focused on it. My head began to spin with the rapidity of it and I squeezed my eyes tightly shut almost against my will. Power seethed around me, almost tangible, and I could see the strings of energy in my mind as the constricted my chest and made it hard to breathe. Could words have escaped the tightness of my throat, curses would have rang out through this strange world that was unfurling around me. Everything was white, distorted, and out to get me.

I couldn't tell what existed and what was my illusions fragmenting, and as the Time overtook me, I opened my mouth in a long, silent scream.

Every muscle in my body ached, but I dragged my feet onward without faltering; stopping for a rest was not among my options. I had to get back, had to see her. She was the only one who would understand, though how that was possible I was unsure, for even I didn't understand.

Millions of images swam through my mind, which felt like it was broken in a horrible way. There was nothing but this endless suffering in my bones, in my head, in my soul, and I didn't know how it came to pass. I couldn't even remember.

This was why everyone was so very frightened of the Time, even though very few were put to such a test. It felt as though I had been through Hell and back, quite figuratively speaking, and the thought was almost enough to make me laugh. On a good day I would have at least chuckled, but having known Hell and recognizing that I had been put into a situation far worse had me in a mood that, to make the understatement of the last few millennia, was foul.

Though I did not hesitate to make my way forward, I was beginning to stagger, which tore at my pride. I glanced around me, but there was nothing in sight, nothing for miles upon miles, and it seemed as though I had been struggling homeward for hours on end, and even I grow weary at times. After what I had been through, I told myself that I was well entitled to a bit of fatigue. While agreeing with myself upon this sentiment and allowing myself to take some satisfaction in the fact that was just now dawning upon me, that I had passed the trial of the Time, I found myself at the mercy of a curious new sensation: the hard, red sandstone ground was rushing up to meet me.

Upon awakening, I would have sat bolt upright had I been in control of my body, but to my great dismay and slight panic, I was unable to move at all save to open my eyes. In great frustration, I shifted my gaze to its farthest reaches but was unable to discern my location. By the feel of it, I was lying on a lumpy, uncomfortably thin straw mattress, and that led me to believe that I was in the home of someone who was not well off. Right away I knew that I was not in my homeland, because I had made sure long ago that no one would fall into this level of poverty. Despite how strict and even cruel I could be, my people were taken care of.

There was no one in the room, and I sent my senses out as far as I could manage in my debilitated state but still found no other living beings. This was proving to be a most nonadvantageous situation, and I was beginning to feel anger stirring within me. Never in my long life could I remember being quite this irritated.

After my initial outrage, it came to my attention that I was feverish, no doubt an after-effect of my ordeal. My eyes swam, just slightly, around the edges, making peripheral vision more than a slight challenge. With a sigh I released the tension that had been building in my body and allowed my eyes to slide shut. There was nothing to do now but sleep.

"Oh, you're awake!" I didn't recognize the voice of the woman who was speaking, presumably, to me. In response I could only groan, still unable to move. She leaned over me with a look of sympathy on her face. I wondered who she was, where I was, and, most importantly, how in the hell I had wound up with whomever she was wherever I was.

"Poor thing, you must have been through somethin' most horrible," she said in an accent that I couldn't place. The panic I had fought down earlier broke over me again, because I knew all of the accents of my realm and this one was unfamiliar. "I sure hope you're comfy, 'cause I'm doin' the best I can, honey."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes, though I knew I shouldn't. After all, this woman had taken me in and seen to my relaxation to the full extent of her abilities, and the way she spoke was certainly not any fault of hers. But I had never had enough patience to deal with the elderly, and she looked to be more than halfway through her life expectancy. That fact hit me as a cold, brutal shock. In my realm, one rarely saw an Elder, for they had their own communities where they were able to rest peacefully until their deaths, and it took my people thousands of years to advance to such an age. Few ever made it that far in life, fatal accidents tended to take them before such a point.

"Where am I?" my words came out as little more than a hoarse whisper.

"Darlin', you're in the Khasma. Didn't you know?" She seemed genuinely taken aback.

"Where in the fuck is that?" My terror was beginning to take over; I had to control myself and quickly.

"Pardon your language," she said absently before she answered, "Doll, you must have hit your head somethin' awful, because if you made it to the Khasma, you had to have known where it is. It don't work any other way."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," I rasped, taking a few deep breaths to level myself.

"I found you on the roadside, not five feet from the Sign," she replied, a mask of confusion settling over her wrinkled features and clouding her eyes. Her eyes were almost as blue as Licentia's, I noted distractedly. "Why, you must have known where you were headin', love. No one comes here unless they come to be saved."

"Saved?"

"Why, from that nasty brute of a king, Diabolos." To my great shock, she spat on the ground at her feet when she said my name. "Only the exiled and the damned come to the Khasma. Unless you're already dead, honey."

My eyes felt like they would fall out of my head if I were to open them any wider. There was no such place as the Khasma, I had never heard of it. And I most certainly was not dead. Was I?

A/N: Oooo! A twist! A plot twist that even I didn't forsee. Well I'm just as anxious as you guys (provided that you're anxious at all) to see where this is going. I must say, though, that I don't feel my writing style was quite up to par for this short chapter. I'm hoping that's because it's almost 4 AM. Yeah... let's go with that... But still! An update! Yay! It's been quite a long time. And to all of you still waiting for me to send you the lemon, don't worry, I will be getting to it as soon as I can. Cross my heart! Much love and many cookies to all!

Translations:

"jouki" - "dizziness; rush of blood to the head" (Gasp! Coldplay moment)
"Khasma" - Greek; "gaping hollow" (root of "chasm")