The Domains

Malachi Gregor

"Cease thy folly; now let us speak of the Domains." Malachi's reflection chuckled, his palm covering half of his mouth.

"Sorry, can you be less ambiguous?" Malachi asked, nudging his eyeglasses.

A growing silence lingered between the two for a few seconds before the reflection waved his hands in the air, summoning a black cube the size of his palm.

"Better now?"

Malachi's voice echoed in his head, making his brows creased. He didn't need to guess who the perpetrator was.

"I guess so." The reflection said, his voice matching Malachi's.

"There are twenty Domains, orbiting the Gate. "

Malachi's ears perked up, even though the voice echoed in his mind. Since arriving in this strange place, Malachi had lost count of the bizarre events unfolding around him.

No — it didn't start when he got here. It all started back in Acadia, his home country. An expedition to search for an ancient temple which should've gone well and earn him prestige in the academia setting went south before it even started.

Remembering the mangled corpses of his acquaintances still gave him chills. And then… there was the red jaguar.

"As an Otherworlder, it's mandatory you pick a Domain, not that you have a choice to begin with." The reflection harrumphed, pulling Malachi out of his trance.

A few words spiked Malachi's curiosity, and his ears would've stretched beyond natural length if he had the power to.

'Domain, Otherworlder, and the Gate?' He folded his arms on his chest, locking his gaze with the apparition.

'Could this be some ancient cult… perhaps the descendants of some forces from the Dark Epoch?'' Malachi frowned.

"Now listen, Otherworlder… to the tales of the Domains." The apparition spread his arms as though he wanted to begin a grand performance.

"The Domain of Creation, the Domain that oversees the concept of origin and beginning."

"Domain of Destruction — end of all things. the final silence after the beginning."

Malachi's face flushed, suppressing his previous paranoia. He could be dreaming, he could, in fact, be dead. But none of these mattered. As long as he could enjoy this moment where he got to speak with his own reflection about things that even his theology and classics classes didn't mention — every other thing was noise in the background.

'Perhaps this is a myth during the era of the Old religion?" Malachi smiled, thinking about how this discovery would make a wave if he published it. Who knew if this publication would even earn him Erudite Honours.

'With the right strategy, becoming the Dean is not farfetched.' Malachi clicked his tongue, mesmerized in his own fantasies.

"The Domain of Life… this lords the force of existence of every lifeform."

"The Domain of Death… the force that exists after existence — the embodiment of lifelessness and the eternal abode."

"So am I dead?" Malachi interrupted his reflection as he sat on the cold wooden floor, scribbling a few words in air.

"Maybe, maybe not." The apparition shot him a freezing glint, making Malachi choke.

"The Domain of Nature — a vital function of what had always been as they flow through the natural cycle."

'What does that even mean?" Malachi thought, but he kept that to himself.

Although his reflection had been quite welcoming — warning him not to touch the alluring weapons on the antique-smelling shelves… Malachi didn't want to strain his luck lest he incurred the wrath of a twisted phantasm.

Until he understood where he was, why he was here, and the purpose behind that, he reminded himself not to act brazenly before something as unnatural as a talking reflection. Fortunately, his theological training made him comfortable with the supernatural.

"The Domain of Horror — the nightmare, the aversion, the truth, and untruth of-"

The apparition manoeuvred in midair, his figure inverted. "Breathe, boy."

Malachi let out a weak sigh, letting go of the breath he had withheld for a moment. This apparition could do better… did he have to sound like a poltergeist?

"Okay fine, something relaxing then… the Domain of Faith." The apparition drifted close to the black ceiling engraved with skulls and dried corpses. His fingers dug into his lips, stretching them apart until the skin split. A thick blackened blood oozed out, dripping onto the floor. But even as Malachi recoiled, the wound throbbed. Flesh knitting itself together, in a grotesque, writhing dance of tendons and darkness.

"The Domain of Faith — the pillar of spiritualism and conviction, the guidance of all souls."

"This is theology." Malachi's heart skip, almost jumping to his feet, his eyes beaming with reverence.

'I knew it… publishing this is a great boon. I can't miss a golden opportunity like this. Even if I'm dead, I'd beg the gods to bring me back just for a chance"

"Can you explain further?" Malachi asked, not minding whether he'd offend the apparition. This was his jurisdiction, and he wouldn't miss it. Even if it meant annoying the drifting abomination.

"The Domain of Blasphemy." The reflection said, hovering above Malachi.

'Sneaky bastard.' Malachi cursed inwardly, dropping his shoulders in defeat.

"The one against all odds, the conviction against conviction, the paradise of those who had gone astray."

Malachi stiffened. The apparition just uttered blasphemy, a taboo even death couldn't atone for. Yet… part of him wanted to hear more, but at what expense? Offending the gods? He dared not risk eternal damnation.

"That's blasphemy." Malachi snapped, gritting his teeth. He had heard enough.

"I know." The apparition rolled his eyes, his tone curt.

Taken aback, Malachi gritted his teeth. How dare someone speak of what the gods had forsaken. What did the apparition even know about conviction.

"If you continue like this, the gods will forsake you — repent and ask for forgiveness, for the gods are all-forgiving." Malachi nudged his glasses, meeting the apparition. His gaze freezing.

"Jokes on you." The apparition snickered, waving his palm at Malachi from the air.

Slammed to the wall, Malachi felt his cheeks burn as he let out a long breath. He had done his part. It all depended on this thing to ask for forgiveness and guidance. He wouldn't fight for a heretic who sought not salvation.

"Domain of Hell. "

'Where you shall rot,' Malachi interjected inwardly.

"No, you." The apparition replied, his forehead splitting as a new mouth protruded from it.

Malachi shuddered. Why didn't he think of this situation? Since the apparition could sound in his head, why wouldn't he be able to read the things in his mind? Fortunately, he seemed not to be offended, or rather, he didn't care.

"The abyss, the underworld, the purgatory, the punishment, and the solace of the pious and the sinners." The oddity added, his tone monotonous.