What could be considered the definition of hope? Was it the desire to continue on, knowing that there might be a chance at salvation? Or maybe a fool’s delusions of grandeur keeping them stubbornly clinging to any semblance of success or survival?
Soren didn’t know.
Why would he know when what he was currently facing seed utterly hopeless?
Gods… This… This is so unfair!..
Stretching beyond the horizon of endless mory Trees, a vast darkness lood over the skies, which in turn, was also overshadowed by its own monstrous abomination. A planet-sized crimson eye shifted and gazed down at the mortal insects beneath it—all of them struggling to survive the endless swarm of darkness over their heads.
Soren was one such insect in a sea of many. No, he might have been a cockroach? The re fact that he survived for this long, being as weak as he was, could be considered a miracle. At tis, Soren himself questioned whether he was alive or not—maybe everything he was currently experiencing was hell itself and he had perished without even knowing it.
No matter what the truth was, what he was currently gazing into could only be described with such adjectives—hell. The massive crimson orb contained thousands of souls, both of humans and spirits—so demons, others fae. They all swam within the iris, clinging to its glassy walls, hoping for an escape from the eternity of torture they were most likely subjected to.
Worst of all, Soren himself was currently going through a similar torture. His [Eyes of the Fairy] which has the effect of seeing through unseen truths was currently sothing he wished he didn’t have. His mind, even with the great filter known as [Record] which blocked most of the knowledge from entering it, was still being invaded slowly by screeching screams and wailing howls of the damned.
This was an entirely different situation from the Echoes of the Rift. Those sounded more like desperate whispers, clinging to his mind like insects and scratching at the insides of skull. The invasion of thoughts emanating from the Crimson Eye of Despair was more akin to a broken rhythm, or an infinite amount of chalkboards being scratched simultaneously.
Suddenly, a bitter yet iron taste lingered in his mouth. He imdiately knew what it was—blood. All of his orifices were leaking blood at an alarming rate. His eyes were crying crimson ichor and even his hearing was faltering. And yet, the desperate screams continued, as if they were reaching into the deepest layers of his soul without a hint at stopping.
…His mind… Was breaking…
So this is how… insanity… feels like?.. Wow, color … surprised… Eternal screams of the damned without an end… An eternity of torturous wails….
Soren was more surprised that he could even think at all. Or at least, think long enough to string sentences together… Pain overwheld his mind—it was as if his head had been placed inside an oven and was being roasted at the highest temperature.
So this is it… huh?.. A continuous struggle… for more than a month… Only to die to a… Divine entity… or whatever the fuck that eye is…
He continued laying on the shifting white sand, awaiting with hopeful anticipation—as ironic as it was to say—for his mind to finally fall into eternal sleep. In fact, he welcod death. It seed much more relaxing than what he was currently going through.
And yet, what felt like hours had passed, and still, he was strangely awake and in pain. His mind hadn’t collapsed yet. It was continuing its struggle against the screeching howls and wails of damned souls… Sohow.
Just… Die already!... The words were hard to string together, but the more he thought about it, the more desperate he beca.
Die, die, die! Please kill !
The rcy of death was never granted to him. His eyes glanced back up at the crimson abomination covering the sky. It was much more blurry now—his vision had faltered to an almost paralyzing degree, and yet, [Eyes of the Fairy] was still active, adding more to his eternal torture.
It was during these monts that his thoughts would wander to the countless wisdom he had gained over the years. The countless ntors he had been assigned, the few teachers that tolerated his existence, and the even fewer individuals he could even call ‘close’ friends. Their words, conversations, and laughter—even their monts of anger and fighting when Soren eventually broke their trust in so way. All of it was playing out at incredible speeds in his mind. He wasn’t sure if this was a last ditch effort at trying to find a solution to his current dilemma, or simply his mind’s way of trying to distract from the invading corrupted thoughts.
If he had to be honest, Soren didn’t care. He had no strength left to ponder over such things. The only thing that struck him was the last thing his mind replayed for him—the almost inconsequential wisdom that Mr. Unknown had imparted to him oh so long ago:
“Knowledge is a responsibility, not a right. Not everything must be known…”
He wanted to curse out loud. He was almost sure the bastard knew that sothing like this would happen, but one other thing was certain now: that piece of wisdom he had imparted wasn’t ant to help him.
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
It was ant to mock him.
Mr. Unknown knew how futile it was for Soren to avoid seeing the unseen. His abilities were prid as both a boon and a curse. Even now, with his eyes shut, [Eyes of the Fairy] continued to stream information into his Soul Weapon without stopping. Most of that information was filtered directly into the book using [Record], but the unholy creature he had gazed upon wasn’t being impeded by such a mundane, mortal concept.
The knowledge of its existence—of its representation was far too great to be hindered by a re filter created by a Tier 1 Soul Weapon.
That bastard… I will crush him… And even if I die here, I'll wander the Beyond until I find a way back to Earth to haunt him forever… I… have to….
Even though his thoughts were full of rage and indignation, desiring even the faintest amounts of revenge against everything that had wronged him, Soren knew that it was improbable he would live to tell the tale if he continued staying here.
Even so, his mind hadn’t fully collapsed. He could barely move, hear or see anything besides the constant river of forbidden information entering his mind. But that was the good thing about [Eyes of the Fairy]. He could focus his vision into what he wanted to see most. His focus had definitely dwindled from what he was capable of just a few hours ago, but it was still good enough to at least lead him out of here. Even his disguise had already been destroyed in the process.
In front of him, golden lines hovered in the air, stretching beyond his blurry vision. These were the sa golden lines he had seen when trying to escape from the Headless Ogre in the Feylith Forest. At that ti, he didn’t know what it was exactly—his instincts simply told him to follow the golden string, which eventually led him to eting Myrin and his cohort.
This ti, however, the strings weren’t so simple. He could see them in much more detail, even with his vision being blurred—his [Eyes of the Fairy] were proving themselves useful once again. But more importantly, the golden strings were split into separate paths this ti, unlike before.
Soren had two options now. Although he didn’t know everything there was to know about that crimson eye, there were bits and pieces of knowledge he had undoubtedly absorbed. First, that thing was most definitely a spirit itself, but one of a higher authority than the rest. Even the cloud of endless darkness that covers this portion of the Beyond seems to be outclassed by it. And yet, the darkness, in its hunger to erase all of existence with the help of the Naless Mist, continued to fight against the Crimson Eye of Despair.
Judging by how familiar each entity was with each other, Soren could tell that their animosity was sothing that had been festering for ages now.
While they fought, the sheltering spirits underneath the shade of the mory Trees were hibernating, waiting out the clash and hoping to survive the aftermath.
Soren, however, wasn’t afforded the sa chances—his own cursed abilities damned him so. But even still, rather than mope around, he decided it was best to take advantage of whatever opportunity this forbidden knowledge that was costing him his sanity afforded.
The two options were very clear. Either stay under the shade and await their clash to end, or choose to move away from it entirely. Both options were bleak, but one at least gave him the agency to decide his own death. The forr simply relied on luck to save him—if luck even existed in this cursed dinsion. Plus, he had grown to trust the golden strings—they were clearly guided by sothing to tell him where he needed to go to save himself. At least, that’s how he hoped to interpret it.
The choice was fairly obvious to Soren—he was going to struggle till the bitter end, even if his mind was screaming for the sweet release of death. Maybe it was spite that was fueling him—anger at fate itself for taking him here in the first place.
What the hell do you want from ?! What even are you?!...
As the screeching wails and howls continued, Soren’s muddied brain raced for a decision to make. If he was going to leave this damned place, there were three options the strings were giving him: one stretched far north, where the colossal silhouette of a ruined castle lay, and a large crimson eye levitated above it. The other string leads back to where he ca from—toward the Runic Constellations.
As for the final string… It simply connected itself to his Soul Weapon… Soren almost instantly knew what it was hinting at…
…[The Faerie Court].
Nope… Not yet…
Soren was very hesitant about the third option… In fact, he had already considered it a few tis during his journey, but always decided against it. For as hatable as Mr. Unknown was, none of the things he had told him were lies. Going back to Earth was dangerous, and entering the supposed ‘Realm of Realms’ could have unforeseen consequences that could make what he was currently experiencing a cake walk.
Still, he wouldn’t be honest if he didn’t say he considered it… It felt like such an easy solution to his current dilemma… All he needed to do was activate the skill, and his suffering might instantly end.
But, no. His situation may be dire, but he was still not completely out of options—the strings proved this to be the case… And even when his situation turned absolutely impossible to overco, his Soul Weapon will continue to follow him, so that option was never off the table, anyway. He could always change his mind later.
This ant one thing, however. He would now have to pick from the other two strings.
Which one should he choose? Head toward the thing causing him to slowly wither under the crumbling weight of a thousand screaming souls, or run away from it?
Gritting his teeth with every fiber of his being, Soren moved his arm muscles one by one—streaks of pain shot across them, but he didn’t care. Every one of his fingers dug into the corpse sand as he crawled out from beneath the shade of the mory Tree, one agonizing pull at a ti.
To the casual observer, what Soren was doing was nothing short of suicidal. He had abandoned his hiding place and dove into the deep dark ocean of the unknown darkness willingly. Strangely though, Soren felt comfortable, as twisted as it was to say.
He was tired. Tired of hiding away. Tired of feeling powerless. Tired of having to submit to fate and its unknown machinations.
So what if he died? It would be a blessing to die at this point. He might as well take so risks.
A trail of blood was left in his wake as he desperately crawled against the white sand. His now sowhat mangled throat croaked a strange sound—a mix between a maddening laugh and a cry for rcy. His destination stretched across the horizon—an eternal crimson prison of damned souls.
If his mind was going to be invaded by forbidden knowledge regardless, he might as well find out everything about its wretched existence.
Soren was no longer planning to run. He was now walking into the abyssal maw of the beast intentionally.
Hehe… Hehehehe…
A crooked smile took over half his face as he stared at the maddening Crimson Eye of Despair.
Bring it…
User Comments
0 comments from readers