Fallen

Merrin opened his eyes, and a new world was before him. It was the same gray world, lit by the heavens' judgment, but it was different somehow. Or maybe he was different. Regardless, the burden no longer felt unbearable. It was mighty still, but he no longer struggled to acknowledge it.

In any case, the time had some. The time for his lips to utter the first words—the first words of a new man.

"Who am I?"

"The one who will never die. The El'shadie of this era."

"What can I do?" he felt calm, a strange intuition settling in his mind. It beckoned a wonder; was he still the same person? It seemed strange, but in a moment, the fear, the doubt vanished.

Perhaps this was what eluded him. Pride didn't have to hold him—he refused it, yet, somewhere deep inside, it remained. Like an addiction, it lingered.

The bird answered his question. "As I said before," it seemed like it wanted to sigh. "You control this place. You can shape it, mold it, and perhaps claim it. Though the latter has not been done by anyone."

Merrin stared at the bird, his ignorance settling in. "How?"

The dark wings rolled like ripples of sea waves. "I give guidance, but I reckon you need only to look into yourself. A particular el'shadie said it akin to breathing. A prescience of what to do. Each had their methods, figure yours."

Merrin waited for more words, but sensed the bird had none more to give.

So I have to do this too? How? He looked away, eyes drawn to the vast world below; sand beads the size of stones dotted everywhere, spreading to all sides of the seeable space. The gray skies and thunder shone over them, casting an eerie gloom that brought a feeling of imposing dread.

This was a mighty place…His?

As he had done before, it took only a thought as his body dropped from the sky, the wind whistling past him. Gasping. The suddenness brought a startling moment.

The ground drew close, quickly he thought it and stopped, inches away from the dark sand below. Closer now, he saw them clearly. Like obsidian stones, smooth and mirror reflective. They seemed like marbles. Though looking at them gave him the mild dread of the bird.

Were they the same? He believed so.

He knelt towards the beads, knees still inches away from the ground. Floating. His hands edged towards them. What was he doing? The answer to that was lost on him, yet he felt it. Like a calling, an inkling, it pulled him.

Perhaps because despite the bird's words, he believed this experience was either a dream, some torture from damnation, or an image brought by his dying mind, regardless, some boldness to move unfettered rushed him.

His fingers trailed over the surface of the balls. Cold and itchy to the touch. And just then, he heard a voice whisper to him, "I am!"

Merrin started at this, his eyes narrowing on the sphere. It said again, "I am!"

You're what? Merrin asked.

"I am!"

What are you? He paused at the thought.. Flexibility, change, anything could be anything. He had almost forgotten the mantra the shamans had drilled into his mind. Likely having not danced to the mist had pushed the instincts away, but now he remembered.

That was the core of the dance of self. Anything could be anything.

"You are a person."

"I am."

He felt strength flow through his body, and from that strength came light. Bright white soothing light. From his fingers they surged out, flowing into the sphere like a ray of luminance.

The light quelled in the next second, vanishing without a trace. In its place, the sphere began to twitch, tremble, and shake. It floated up, cracks forming around its surface.

"I am. I am. . I am a person!"

It shattered, turning into dust that drifted down. Nothing. Merrin stared dumbfounded. He expected some change, even waited for it, but nothing happened.

A sinking feeling pressed on his heart. Was he not adequate? The intuition told him he was right in the method, yet nothing happened.

The bird spoke, high in the sky. It remained, not once reaching down when Merrin did. "What do you define as a human?" it said, "It's no surprise you failed. To choose the most complex outcome as a test is simply madness. But maybe you are mad."

Merrin floated up, meeting the gaze of the bird. "What? I did everything."

"If you could so easily take the power, then you would not exist, as the ones before you would never have died." There was a hint of amusement in its tone.

"What now?"

Suddenly, the bird's wings expanded further. Its feathers of interlocked scales grew. Frighteningly so—they grew wide, stretching to both sides of the world. Was it attempting to wrap the world? It seemed strangely capable of doing so. Or at least, Merrin believed.

Just then, it spoke. "What you do now is call them. Summon them! Summon your Ardents!"

Its voice boomed loudly through the world, echoing through Merrin's bones. And despite being certain he knew not what to do, he strangely now did. The intuition rose again. It was like an idea, a memory that appeared after having faded away. He smiled… a genuine one.

He heaved a breath and said softly, "Come to me!"

The heavens screamed.

And they came. Oh, from the heavens, they came. Strange creatures, akin to men, draped in oily, dark robes. They descended around him like drops of black rain, countless—so many they seemed like a spread of sand over the gloomy skies. However, despite the exterior of mortality, something was missing that made them eerie.

Each of them was without a head—or without a head that any human could have. Instead, what resided inches above the flat collars of their necks were orbs. Orbs of swirling blackness—one that gave the impression of a gaze. An ancient eye that watched him… no, countless ancient eyes. Merrin stood in the center of this vortex of strange creatures—Ardents, the bird had called them.

His Ardents.

Merrin's heart tensed at the sight of their sheer number, but not long after, the feeling of peace quickly overpowered his fear. Enveloping him in warmth. Right now, he felt whole, as though he was not surrounded by unknown creatures but by familiars. A family of sorts. One he had known for as long as he had been alive.

Merrin could hear pious whispers from his Ardents, a phrase repeated over and over:

"He who would never die."

They spoke in perfect uniformity, their voices a range of variety—some sounding male, some female, some like children, and others… unnatural. Yet they still reverberated together. To Merrin, it was calming, like a sweet lullaby that quenched his soul.

And, of course, the giant bird now loomed high above, its head tilted upward. Staring at something. Merrin traced its gaze, his eyes resting on something high above in the gray sky. Half-illusory, a high gate of brittle, darkened surface rested atop a bed of gray clouds. Bizarre white light shone from its edges, piercing down and showering him with radiance.

It was warm. Pure. Powerful.

And it was his.

The gates themselves hid something behind them—something distant and ancient. A thing that Merrin believed he could only claim once he reached for it… And so he did. It was a thought, a wish perhaps, but it came to pass that he felt his body move, ascending high into the gray skies.

His mind was clear of thought, and only purpose remained.

Now, he was no longer obscured by the storm-charged clouds. Instead, they domed him, pushed back by the presence of the Ardents. With their descent, the clouds retreated, the Ardents acting like a shield against the crackling storm and its violence. Merrin could still see it, yes, beyond the Ardents—surging and flashing.

But it didn't matter.

He looked up at the distant gate, the size of a mountain, as he drew closer. Soon, he would take it. His destiny. Merrin reached out. He could almost grasp it—those dark, stony gates that seemed as though they had withstood the greatest of foes.

This could be a dream, some falsehood, or torture, but he refused to think of it.

Merrin would take it, and it would be his. He had once been in darkness, without reason to exist, but now he was in the light. He had once been in a dream that never ended, but now it would fade. Now, he knew where he was going. A pathless life was nothing but pain. But now he was aware.

The gates were so close now, inches away. Merrin smiled. Mine!

Suddenly, a force slammed into him, shuddering the world in a massive boom. Merrin was shot back, plummeting in a blaze of power. His body ignited with bright white flames!

I knew it! He thought as the winds rustled him. This was torture—a trick. He was going into damnation!

He crashed.

The one who should have ascended, fell.—Recorded from the visions of a depraved Scholae.