To Hell and Back

Fifty heartbeats. Just enough time to breathe his final words, Aspen's frail flesh lay on his deathbed awaiting the final judgment of his mortal life. Death is nothing to be worried about. It is something he yearned for many years back, but it eluded him like a tempting shadow, flitting through the cold night breeze.

The shadows. It was his home, many years past. Fate happened, and once again he was summoned to fight for the glory of the high one. He won another empty battle, and after all of it, there was nothing left in his hands but the shadows. Ironically, he has grown quite fond of its perfection through the years. It is a welcomed memory. How it hides scars of this past, how it covers ages of sin and decay, revealing only the outline of what was once a man .. a perfect creation in the image of the high one.

One last victory, fate dictates. This is no deathbed. This is one more trial. A battle he is supposed to win .. but sadly, his grip slackens as he tries to struggle for survival. Embrace it, his heart urges, though his mind screams life. Embrace the shadow. Let go. It will be all right.

Aspen's fingers slowly lose their tension, his palm opening to release the world he clung to. The empty victory he assumed to be so. He has outlived most of his allies. The time has come for the shadows to reclaim his soul. From the dark depths of his mind it came .. a Soul Tear. It held every bit of his memories of what once was.

"A new dawn.." His mouth utters. It begins without him. His mortality lost. Forgotten. The veil flutters in the wind, beckoning. Beyond it lie the answers to all of his questions .. but he hesitates to approach. The Soul Tear drops from his unwilling hands and shatters on the cold pavement as he finally begins to walk forward. All of it, lost in the ether winds.

The master's voice .. he frantically searches for it, for the promised guiding hand through the valley of the shadow of death. For a moment he heard it, or at least he thought he did. And then it faded, as though it was calling for another name. He was lost. Lost in a swirling mass of empty chaos. "El.." He almost utters the holy name, but swallows it up for no other reason than hatred and pride. How far could he have wandered off? So far away he failed to notice the dream slip from his grasp.

A black gust throws him off balance, his body falling into the swirling mists of eternity. He calls out, but no voice escapes his mouth .. only a low groan .. or rather, the soft growl of a dying beast. Finally, the falling sensation stops. He has no idea when it happened, but he was alive. Or so it seemed. Before him was a vast landscape of white, snowy plains .. and there was no soul in sight.

"Welcome to hell." Aspen muttered. He almost surprised himself with his own voice. He could actually speak again. Sadly, it seemed there was no one to listen. Slowly he took to his feet, staring blankly into the horizon. They said it was a place of torment. But here, it almost seemed .. serene.

He spun in response to a warm touch on his left shoulder. There was a man clothed in white standing almost twice his height. "Am I expected?" He asked selflessly.

"To be honest, I am quite surprised to find you here, Gatebuilder." The man replied. "Death comes in many forms, but it is rare to encounter one such as yours."

"Somehow I grew accustomed to being an exception to the rule." He retorted.

The man simply smiled. "Everyone is his own rule. You of all people should know that."

"I expected to be in a place where confusion no longer exists, and that everything will have a clear and fixed answer." Aspen replied, his voice softer this time. "Your response suddenly raises concerns."

"You are funny." The man said, taking a few steps into the center of the open field. "So full of bravado, yet so immature and innocent. Like a newborn soul fed to the ravaging beasts of the wild. The master will be very amused."

"Which one?" Aspen asked. Somehow any answer to this question seemed strangely unwelcome.

"That is not for me to decide, Gatebuilder." The man replied. "I was simply sent here to comfort your soul, and prevent it from wandering off into the open nothingness you see before you."

Aspen's brow rose a bit. "Where else am I supposed to go then?" he asked.

"Back." Came the reply.

"Back? Back where?" He snorted, finally sensing where this was leading.

"To the world you know." The man answered, his voice a stream of soothing calmness. Taking Aspen's hand, he puts a small crystalline sphere in it. A Soul Tear.
"You have no idea what I go through to piece that back together every time you do this." The man smiled as Aspen recognizes the crystal. "You easily forget."

"So it's not going to happen today?" Aspen finally asked, walking up to the man.

"Not by a long shot. But I am glad to see you again." The man said, locking Aspen in his comforting hands. "You do have the tendency to be very impulsive and stray from the path."

"It's not going to change anytime soon." Aspen replied.

"Nor would I change you one bit if I could." The man replied, smiling.

"You could, you know.." Aspen said, as the man begins to fade from his grasp.

"You know better than that .. and yet you deny it ever so often. It is your trust I have come to like .. as you do the people I gave you. Would you change them if you could?"

"I tried .. many times before." Aspen muttered, the air seemed thinner now, and he was almost half asleep.

"But would you now..?"

"No .. I guess I would not. Not for anything else."

"Immortality is not as good as it sounds, does it now?" The man's voice asked.

"No .. I need to rest. To come home..." Aspen replied, falling into a wave of blackness.

"Someday, Gatebuilder. Someday .. do not be impatient. There will always be tomorrow to give up."

"Right." Aspen finally said, opening his eyes. Nothing was different, and nothing has changed. Everything is the way it was before he left it. Some things will change eventually, but not today. It's just like any other day. Welcome to hell.