The Passage

Darkness, an absolute, suffocating presence, pressed against Renher, a heavy, velvet shroud smothering all sense of being.

 He was adrift, a disembodied consciousness, unable to feel the weight of his limbs, the rise and fall of his chest. 

Only his thoughts remained, a relentless, echoing monologue, a lonely companion in the vast emptiness. Kaileen… the army… The memories, vivid and sharp, pierced him like shards of ice, a constant reminder of his failures, of the life he had lost. 

Regret, a bitter, icy tendril, coiled around his heart, a constant, gnawing pain. He wondered if this was his punishment, to be trapped in this void, reliving his past mistakes, a cruel, eternal torment.

Then, a flicker. A distant, faint light, a solitary beacon in the oppressive, all-consuming darkness. It beckoned, a silent promise, a whisper of hope in the desolate expanse.

 I have to reach it, he thought, an inexplicable compulsion driving him, a force beyond his comprehension, a primal urge to escape the suffocating void. But how?

The thought was barely formed when he began to drift, an effortless glide towards the light, as if pulled by an invisible current, a gentle, guiding hand.

 It wasn't a tunnel, nor a gate, but a shimmering curtain, a tapestry woven from threads of every color imaginable, yet somehow, blindingly pure, a spectacle of celestial artistry. 

A wave of warmth washed over him, a comforting caress that eased the phantom ache of his final breath, a soothing balm to his wounded soul, a gentle embrace that promised solace. 

The air hummed, a forgotten melody resonating deep within his soul, a language he instinctively understood, a symphony of emotions, a chorus of forgotten memories.

The light intensified, a loving embrace, shedding the burdens of his past, peeling away the layers of his mortal existence, revealing the essence of his being.

 Familiar faces flickered within, loved ones lost, their smiles radiant, their eyes filled with a welcoming warmth, a silent invitation to a place of eternal peace. 

Is this… the afterlife? he wondered, a gentle pull urging him forward, a promise of eternal peace, a place where sorrow faded, and only joy remained.

He found himself standing before a palace, a structure that defied all logic, all earthly understanding. It shimmered, an ethereal beacon against the celestial canvas, a palace of gods, or so it seemed, a monument to celestial grandeur.

 My body… I can feel it again, he realized, his thoughts echoing in his mind, a strange sensation of being both present and detached, a phantom limb returning to life.

 But how? Am I alive? Dead? Trapped in some ethereal dream, a figment of my imagination?

Suddenly, a booming voice echoed from within the palace, a language alien and commanding, a force that resonated with raw power, a voice that commanded obedience.

 Fear, primal and instinctive, gripped him, a cold hand squeezing his heart, a chilling premonition of danger. What was that?

"Come inside," the voice echoed again, this time in his own tongue, clear and resonant, a command that brooked no refusal, an order that demanded compliance.

Renher's feet moved against his will, drawing him towards the palace, his body acting independently of his conscious control, a puppet dancing to an unseen master.

 I can't disobey? he thought, panic rising, a sense of helplessness washing over him, a chilling realization of his lack of control. 

Then, he focused, drawing on the strength of his will, the resolve that had forged him into an emperor, No, I won't be controlled, and stopped moving, planting his feet firmly on the shimmering ground, a defiant act against the unseen force.

"How are my thoughts influencing my decisions?" he whispered, his voice a ghost of its former strength, a mere echo in the vast emptiness, a desperate attempt to understand his predicament.

"Fasten your feet, Mort—" the booming voice began, interrupted by a deafening crash from within the palace, a sound that reverberated through the very fabric of existence, shaking the air around Renher violently, a shockwave that rattled his very being.

Fear, cold and sharp, pierced him, a primal terror of the unknown, a fear that transcended his mortal experiences.

 The unknown… it's always the worst, he thought, his heart pounding against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat in the silence, a desperate rhythm against the encroaching dread.

Then, a different voice, gentle yet commanding, resonated through the silence, soothing his soul while demanding his respect, a voice that calmed the tempest within him.

 "Take your time, little Emperor. Explore. Then, come to the center."

Little Emperor? Renher thought, puzzled, his mind racing to decipher the meaning, to understand the cryptic message. Which voice should I trust? 

He decided to follow the gentle voice, a gut feeling guiding him, an intuition that whispered of truth. My heart tells me it's the right one, a whisper of intuition, a beacon in the darkness.

He began to explore the palace, a marvel of solidified starlight and whispered prayers, a testament to celestial artistry, a symphony of light and shadow. 

The walls, opalescent clouds, revealed glimpses of celestial gardens, landscapes of pure light and ethereal beauty, a paradise beyond mortal comprehension.

 Valhalla? he wondered, his mind struggling to reconcile the reality before him, to understand the mysteries unfolding before his eyes. But my body is here, not just my soul. This is not the afterlife I imagined.

He came to the central courtyard, a fountain of pure energy pulsing with creation's rhythm, a symphony of light and sound, a vibrant heart beating within the palace.

 Archways led to countless chambers, each a sanctuary of serenity and contemplation, a place of profound peace, a haven of tranquility.

He peered into a chamber. Memories? he thought, seeing his own birth, his childhood, his rigorous training, his first meeting with Kaileen, their wedding, their shared moments of joy and sorrow, the tapestry of his life unfolding before him. 

His life flashed before his eyes, a rapid montage of triumph and tragedy, a chronicle of his existence.

Each chamber is a piece of my life, he realized, a shiver running down his spine, a sense of being observed, a chilling awareness of an unseen presence.

 Someone has been watching me, recording my every moment, a silent observer of my destiny.

He peeked into another chamber. The orc battle… my death… He rushed to the next, only to find swirling, indescribable colors, a kaleidoscope of light that defied comprehension, a spectacle of abstract beauty. What does this mean?

He tried every chamber, each filled with the same incomprehensible light, a swirling vortex of energy, a mystery he couldn't unravel. What are these colors? What secrets do they hold?

Suddenly, a flicker of movement caught his eye, a fleeting shadow in the periphery of his vision, a whisper of motion.

 A small figure darted down a corridor, disappearing into the shadows, a fleeting glimpse of something otherworldly.

"Who are you?" he shouted, his voice finally audible, echoing through the empty halls, a desperate plea for answers.

Silence.

He followed, his voice echoing through the empty halls. "Stop! Show yourself!"

He chased the figure, turning corner after corner, his heart pounding with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, a frantic pursuit of the unknown, until he reached a dead end. 

A door stood before him, the figure nowhere to be seen, a phantom vanished into thin air.

Trapped? he thought, turning to see a solid wall blocking his path, a sudden, claustrophobic feeling.

 It must have gone through the door, a phantom slipping through reality, a ghost in this ethereal realm.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts, to quell the rising panic. Who was that child? What does it want? What games are being played?

He walked towards the door, his hand reaching for the shimmering handle, his heart pounding with anticipation, a mix of fear and curiosity. What awaits me on the other side? What secrets will be revealed?

Just before he reached the door he heard a soft voice, a childlike lilt that sent a shiver down his spine, a voice that held both innocence and ancient wisdom. "Are you ready to play, little Emperor?"

A child appeared, a small girl, with hair made of stars, and eyes made of galaxies, her presence radiating an otherworldly aura, a being of pure celestial energy.

 She tilted her head, and smiled, a smile that held both innocence and ancient knowledge. "I've been waiting for you, Renher. For a very long time. It's time to begin."

Renher began crossing the door , upon opening the door what laid before left him baffled.

The Divine Chamber was not merely a room, but a celestial sanctuary, a microcosm of the cosmos itself.

 Its dimensions defied mortal comprehension, stretching into an infinite expanse, yet feeling intimately contained. 

The very air shimmered with condensed starlight, a palpable energy that pulsed with the rhythm of creation.

The walls, if they could be called such, were not solid, but ever-shifting tapestries of nebulae, swirling galaxies and constellations that moved in a slow, majestic dance.

 Each star, each nebula, was a window into a different realm, a different facet of creation, a testament to the gods' boundless power.

In the centre of the room , the little girl sat upon an ordinary chair with an adult accompanying her , standing beside her as a guardian .

The girl spoke in a calm manner , " sit down now , chosen emperor".