INCARCERATED INTO INCARNATION
Part – 1, Last act of Genesis
He closed his eyes shutting of voices from his surroundings, he needed to concentrate for this. He was tired and hurt. If it was anytime in his normal conditions, it would have come to him naturally. He smiled miserably and concentrated more, searching for it, feeling the webs of energy sweeping through the small cracks between the gates, following the undulations let off by the streams of energy as if he was walking blindly down the stairs feeling each step before taking one. And then he found it, the gray gates, that guarded him and the world around him from ruin. He smiled miserably and pulled on it.
The gate opened with a surge of blood-curdling howl as an unearthly power seeped out into the world through the wide opening, just like when the cry of burning steam pass through an orifice leaving one’s ears bleeding. It originated and swept around him while he kept kneeling on the ground, a pair of huge wings black in color that grew from his back lay broken, the left one twitched at times. Blood flowed profusely from his naked chest which looked as if someone had blasted a hole into his body which then mixed with his shredded dirty clothes that he once wore making it difficult to differ from the bloodied clothes and the torn organs that had slid from his body.
The plants and small fauna that surrounded him shriveled up and died as the miasma from the gate that flooded from his body touched them. He bared his teeth in pain as the last of the strength in his body was being burned by him so that he could concentrate on the runes he was drawing on the ground with his blood while the corroding miasma fed up on everything.
Fumes rose from the runes drawn on the ground. He felt his blood start to boil as he triggered the runes that he had readied. His skin burned, blisters forming on the surface and then his skin started to slowly shrivel and unravel before his eyes. He cried out in pain as even muscles in his body began to split and slits formed throughout his body as if a hundred whips were being lashed at him and then he heard the bones break and silence. He could feel a wetness on both sides of his face from the blood that was flowing out of his ruptured ear drums.
Soon his right hand that he had raised before his eyes for triggering the runes had deformed into the skeleton and torn muscles barely holding his bones that he was getting no sense from. The blood soaked ground on which he was kneeling down now began to steam with small hiss slowly rising to a high-pitched shrill as if a thousand souls were crying in pain and then with the thunder lagging behind by a few seconds to the lightning struck the ground.
Was he still fighting? He mused as he felt his face soaked with sweat. Blood spurted from his mouth. He felt as if his throat was drowning in his own blood, while the last breath slowly left his lungs. He had felt his heart beating sometime before but it has collapsed with his lungs which had become weak after taking the huge attack to his chest. He felt calm, as he waited for the pull that always comes during each of these moments.
Why was he still fighting? He felt the small tug of something to which he had usually held on as in the past. But he didn’t, waiting, unsure to what held for him and as time went by, the strain to his spirit began to rise. Pain. He didn’t know whether what he was doing was wrong but for some reason, letting go just didn’t feel right. It was somehow different this time,
Splitting headache. Awake. Broken. Confused. Swirls of dark colors twisted among the light colored spectrum of lights that hurt his vision. ” Something’s wrong”, the thought flashed in his mind.
Then he felt it, the tug that he had been feeling for a while now strengthening ripping his consciousness. His mind roared in pain and with horror rising in his consciousness he found himself being torn away from his spirit. His memories flashed through his mind eye as they were torn from him and unraveled to threads losing them into the void.
In a rush, he started gathering the rest of that was still left like a greedy man flailing for his gold scattered to depths while drowning, binding them and pressed them through the many links to bones of his past that had stayed with him throughout his life.
And then he felt lost. He was lost.
He was lost.
“And sometimes stories starts with a conversation”, read the twin from the memories of the spirit that was moving on to the other side. She spoke out loud to herself for the convenience of her brother who was standing beside her, while making a face behind her skull mask. “An interesting piece to say before one die. I wonder what happened.” she paused for a moment trying to discern more from the strand of memory she had obtained from the passing soul.
“What do you think? Should we try to find out? Anthen?”. she asked her brother whose attention seem to have been caught on something else. A new spirit has appeared in the sanctum. Something about this new one sparked something in her memory.
“Oh it’s him. Again. But it’s been a long while I believe” Her eyes stopped at the spirit for a few seconds before moving back to her brother. ” He seems as lost as the last times.” she mused.” And also not dead like last time. And also with no story for us”. She pouted.
” A long time for us sister but more than a few lifetimes for the mortals even for the long-lived mages of theirs. I just start to wonder to whom it belong to.”