1 Drifting Through Chaos
The grey, thick fog was still overwhelming, blocking every sight and sound. Corroding his very being, his very self, surrounding him like a great raging sea, bottomless and endless.
It had perhaps been eons since he was stuck here, so long that he had lost every sense of self.
The memories; the kindest face, the biggest pride and his other half. What did they look like? His feelings at the time? He didn't know.
The sense of warmth and touch. The caress of another, the feel of clothing brushing against his skin.
Lost was the memory of sound, the sound of his own breath, the sound of music and even the sound of laughter from a beloved.
Forgotten was the smell; the aroma of beer, the scent of summer and the scent of her.
Gone was the taste; of a kiss, bad morning breath or of his favourite food.
His own voice, his thoughts, his hopes and his dreams.
All lost.
In the cold grey fog, for an eternity now.
As he stumbled on through the fog, in which he could hardly see a meter in front of him. He kept on walking. With a single-minded focus, and a dream long forgotten.
[...]
The fog rolling into him, like colossal waves, leaving only a husk of the man that once was. All that was left now, was but a piece of flash, that moved upon instinct. With no thoughts, nor any deliberation behind any action. Just a piece of flesh, continuously drifting through the endless mist.
The only thing breaking up the monotony of it all, were the instances where our weary traveller fell under attack.
Had it been a million times? Perhaps a billion? For the man, now so corroded by this lifeless plane, it was the same. Another monotonous and dreary attack on his already crumbling psyche.
And as if by the summons of fate, once again a few meters behind him, the fog coalesced.
Quickly forming were three humanoid bodies, formed out of the fog. Lacking in every aspect, what one would think a creature would need to survive. No eyes, no nose nor a mouth, just a more dense fog.
In what could only be their hands, they held a long piece of dense fog in the shape of weapons.
As they spotted the man walking, aimlessly through the fog, the middle of their heads split, as if to scream a war cry.
The world remained silent.
Tilting forwards and putting their weight at their heels, the three fog warriors set off into a sprint, towards the man, who had yet to notice them, eager to cut him down.
Quickly closing the distance, the fog warrior in front leapt into the air, to do a downwards slash to split the wanderer down the middle.
A single twitch.
The fog surrounding the man dispersed for a few seconds, as the fog warrior was split by the waist, and dissipated to once again become part of the mist.
Holding the battered iron sword, in front of him, the wanderer's eyes hungrily stared at his remaining opponents. The ferociousness was akin to a predator staring at a wounded and cornered prey.
Lunging himself forward, he quickly stabbed the dull sword through the head of the nearest fog warrior, before it had the chance to take a stance.
The remaining fog warrior's sword came swinging in an arch and added another wound on to the wanderer's already bloodied and battered body.
Having reacted quickly with beastly instinct, the wanderer had taken a step back, just quickly enough to avoid a deep injury on his shoulder and back.
Though he couldn't feel anything at all; a deep injury would still limit his movements and put him in a potentially fatal position.
Quickly throwing himself to the ground and dodging a sweep, he rolled out of range of his opponent.
Pressing the attack the fog warrior stepped in to close the distance.
Bending his knees and bringing his swordpoint close to the ground behind him, the wanderer did an upward slash, that cut his enemy from hip to shoulder, before his opponent could react.
As the last of his opponent dissipated into nothingness, he sheathed his blade, in a tattered sheath hidden underneath his moldy cloak, the ferociousness and savagery in his eyes disappeared, by a despairing and hopeless look, as he silently continued his endless walk through the mist.
...
Senseless, neither pain, hunger nor touch. Aimless walking, continuous fighting.
Was it every minute, hour or day? He didn't know, just that everything was the same, if he wasn't walking, he was fighting. Sometimes only one opponent, more often than not, multiple. There was nothing else, no hunger, no tiredness; except for the mental exhaustion and madness of it all.
In the first century or so, his memories had kept him company. The happy times, spent with family friends and lovers, they had been a respite for the ever increasing madness consuming him. But like the ocean of fog had done with everything else, it was washed away, until there was nothing else left than to walk aimlessly and a burning desire to survive.
That was his rope, the only thing keeping him going, the fear of death. But the rope was tight, as his last willpower, his last desire, was also about to be washed away by the surging and raging ocean of mist.
...
Still and dull.
Had he walked through the same scenery for a 1000 years? perhaps 10,000 years? Perhaps he had been stuck here from the start of time? And would he keep walking to the end of it?
Perhaps he should just lay down, lay down and wait. Wait to be chopped in pieces by the creatures that sometimes manifested in the mist. Perhaps he should lay down and wait to die.
Find the sweet release in giving up, succumbing to his fate.
He had tried so before, but that last will, that primal instinct and fear, always roared its answer.
No!
He had created blind spots, been fighting sloppily in the hope of the beings manifested here, would end his suffering, end him. But his muscle memory, his pure instinct and his body screamed for survival, regardless of where his head and heart was.
Even though he was tired, exhausted beyond all means, that voice, the voice of his most inner thoughts, had not yet been killed, and that voice fought, for him and a tiny hope of getting out of there. Of venturing beyond this mist of Chaos that corroded him, and all that was him. To find his way back and to become whole again, and not just empty and emotionless as the fog around him.
So he kept on walking, with no clear direction, no indication of where to go or of how long he had gone or where he was going. He just walked and never stopped.
He was drifting through chaos
...
He continued walking, continued fighting. Some fights he put his all into, some fights he wished he could die, but it never happened.
As he continued walking with his shoulders slouched and his head hanging dispiritedly, he felt a warmth in this coldness for the first time in forever.
A crazy madness ran through him, as he jerked his head up, hoping to see something different than the scenery that had enclosed him for an eternity.
And there it was, shining through the grey layers of fog, positioned in midair in front of him.
It looked like a small star, a tiny little star, as insignificant as a speck of dust,but nonetheless a star which light had penetrated the cold and dark. But to him it was gigantic, a beacon, a source of hope and of warmth.
He broke into a sprint, never tearing his eyes off of the source of light, his first irregularity in this bleak place.
A feeling he had long forgotten was coursing through his veins, it wasn't desolation, depression nor hopelessness that had for so long accompanied him. It was excitement and hope, with a little fear of the unknown mixed within. But the warmth and light of the small star, was beckoning him, drawing him to it, and he would not stop to the smell the roses, now that at long last had a goal in front of him.
The mist coalesced as if to squash the ray of light, to crush his newfound hope and source of warmth, as it had done with everything else. Manifesting into countless beings, countless of the creatures and warriors that he had fought before, so as to stop him from reaching the light, and as to kill his only hopes and thereby restoring order to chaos.
He was dodging and weaving through the slashes coming from the many creatures, moving ever closer his intended destination.
His hands gripped tightly to the hilt of his sword, ready to cut down whomever or whatever would stand in his path.
Bringing his torso down towards the ground and hence lowering his center of gravity, he kicked of with renewed speed towards the light.
As if to mock his efforts, all soon turned to darkness again. But not because of the star disappearing, but in front of him, out of the mist, walked a colossal being of fog, with four arms and two heads resting on its shoulders. In each of its hands a sword of condensed fog rested, ready to strike down the now hopeful wanderer.
Almost despairing from the sight of his foe, the wanderer quickly dived in for a last effort fight. For him he either reached the light, the source of his hopes and of the warmth, or he was granted the sweet relief of death, after spending an eternity in this bleak despairing world.
The distance between the two quickly closed in, and the colossal struck down with its gigantic sword on top of the wanderer.
Having never taken his eyes of the colossal and his instincts warning him of danger, he quickly hit the ground and rolled out of the way, only to see the next sword descending down towards him.
Having no time to dodge, he drew his sword from its sheath, and swung it to meet with the descending sword.
As his sword was ascending to meet its foe, it caught and reflected the lights of the star, which resulted in a brilliant reflection of colours, pushing back the surrounding mist, and split the sword and its wielder down the middle.
Revealing the dark and lifeless dirt, that had been covered by the fog.
Having felt no resistance and being blinded by the reflection coming off of his sword, the wanderer took a second to look around to assess his surroundings. But that was quickly put to the back of his mind, as he once again sprinted towards the small star hanging a few hundred meters ahead of him.
As he was reaching the light, his surroundings grew lighter and lighter with every pulse of the small star, until he felt something he had not felt in forever.
Warmth and then
Pain...
