The Great Beyond- the Vile Fate

by K M McGuire

  The vines wavered with consideration before suddenly snapping against the man’s chest, his voice bellowing a lamentation that shuddered the leaves and hair of those in the sanctuary. The man convulsed, sputtering as a mist drew from out of his skin, shrouding him in a strange wispy cloud that was sucked into the tendrils mouth. The cries curdled and bubbled into nothing, as the man’s head rolled against his shoulder with a force that looked as though his vertebrae had snapped. Fear drained Voden’s heart, and the emptiness made him nauseous.

  Voden looked down at the hand snatching his wrist. He looked back, he had begun to walk forward, but Vec’s grip was firm. His other hand was tight around Andar’s wrist as well; his gauntlet purring with blue. His teeth clenched, but Vec shook his head slightly, urging them to relax.

  The vines still suckled on the vessel’s chest, as a massive inhale of ecstasy entered Voden’s mind. The cloud of mist funneled into the vines, dissipating from around the vessel. The vines detached, where a small trickle of blood fell from the corner of the toothless maws. They lowered the man to the ground and unraveled from around him. He collapsed into a mound, his gown now ripped and soiled with dirt and blood. The group of priests scurried over to him, lifting him to his feet. He seemed alive but had no energy to function, or perhaps it was something worse, which Voden suspected it was. His eyes no longer (at least from this distance) shined with the gloss of purpose, and so, the priests helped him walk off the altar, and they filed up the stairs that ran behind the Zemilia.

  The Great Sage turned his attention back to the crowd, smiling with an almost perverse enthusiasm. As he spoke, his voice now merged with the Zemilia inside of Voden’s head, “Zagala’s blessing is ensured! Be at peace, noble patrons of Zagala!”

  The sky wavered from the eruption of applause, stamping feet, and beating of chests as the Zemilia retracted its vines. The flower turned its bulb towards the sky. Yael leaned over to Voden, her hand gliding over his back.

  “This is it,” she whispered, and the excitement sizzled around them. The true spirit of the grove seemed now to be waking, and its presence weaved among them.

  In the rising commotion, the Great Sage called out, pointing his staff at the Zemilia. “Behold, my beloved! The gift of the Zemilia!”

  Yes, children. Taste the pleasures I offer you. You will see that I alone am worth worship! I will fill your heart with true desires. Give all of yourself to me, and you will see the strength I wish to offer!

  The crowd turned their attention to the sky with the moon returning a silvery smile. The Zemilia stretched and seemed to breath in the woods, holding silence in remembrance of the stars. The moon almost nodded a secret message understood only by them, and the Zemilia exhaled, erupting a stream of glowing particles that scattered high above the congregation. The blue veins in the petals pulsed with the stream the Zemilia expelled, and the blue speckles glittered like snow, drifting slowly back to the earth. The musicians began to play again, as if they called out to the flecks of light, playing the rhythm that pumped inside everyone’s heart.

  Voden saw the first bead of light land on a woman’s arm, rippling at the touch along her skin, melting the orb into her flesh, and the music began to hit harder as it absorbed into her skin. The light surged inside her arm and through bone and veins, oscillating until the ripples had found her center. More of the pollen sauntered down from the fountain of speckled light, moving as though the beads had the ability to fluctuate the speed of time. One of the droplets of light landed on Voden’s skin. Its waves seemed to wash his anxieties away, whitewashing every emotion with elation, smiling at the light that revealed the life inside his hand. He turned to his friends, excited to show them his revelation. Vec stared into the brilliance of the sky, mouth hung wide in deep concentration. An epiphany he could not express in words caught in the grotto of his mouth. Andar turned his head slowly away from Vec. Voden’s eyes met his, and his lips stretched long across his face to form an unusual smile. In that moment, they knew something without a single word, though still unable to verify what it was. Yael began to dance, The notes of the music seemed to sink inside her as she ran her hands across her body to feel them. The blue in the speckles brightened, growing to a point to which Voden could hardly bear, and then they began to fade back. The orbs continued to fall as the crowd hit a euphoric oneness no one seemed to be able to speak of, but everyone knew exactly what it was.

  The fire in the pit danced now in emotional swatches of reds, yellows, and oranges. It took the shifting presences of those nearby, melding the essence of each soul into a lover’s embrace.

  Feel my presence; I will not let you stray!

  “Wow,” slurred Andar, and he approached Voden.

  He placed his hands against Voden’s head. They looked at one another. He knew it was Andar, but something strange made him see him outside of what he knew him to be. It was as if his skin had burst into resplendence, the only thing that now held him together. His eyes were now white with energy. Unable to understand the look his friend gave, or the vibrating aura he could now see, he reached out to touch his friend. His skin felt the light shift between them. The warmth transferred from their contact. He watched the colored light ping back and forth from one another.

  “Look! You are of light!” a tall Tastin said, gripping Voden’s face and beaming tearfully at him. He could see the same glow in the man, and without words held his face, too.

  “We all are,” came Vec’s voice from behind them.

  They did not jump, as if they had known all along he was there. They hugged one another, happily smiling at the exchange and revelations they now shared. The music struck inside their bones. They were unable to maintain control of their bodies as they became raptured by the sounds. Voden could see forms of light, fluttering all around them, basking in a multitude of colors, where there must have been sentients wrapped inside, moving among the swirls, yet all were indivisible.

  “May I join?” chimed a heavenly voice, though it rang more clearly in Voden’s head than out in the open.

  He turned his attention to where he thought the voice had come from. He saw a figure encased in a magnificent blue aura. He questioned who it was a moment before it dawned on him. Yael. His mind paused any function that did not keep him alive. He felt time stood still, as he tried to hold to the visage standing before him. Her skin emanated the light like a gem shining at the bottom of the sea.

  “Of course,” he replied, turning away from everyone else to join her dance.

  Her skin brushed against his, and she gently gripped his hand, tugging it along her body. As his hand brushed against her skin, a star blossomed at the touch, and an explosive arching light followed the wake. The more they moved together, the stronger the light glowed, fusing them together where he became increasingly aware of his own light changing from white to red. She turned to face him, placing her head against his heart, her color spreading from her and into his veins.

  “Do you feel the light now?” she whispered to him, slowly looking into his eyes. She spoke so lightly, but it was the only thing he could hear, her eyes holding his with compassion. Her hand found its way to his shoulder, and the gentle stroke of her finger made him feel as if he spun in a pool of water.

  “What if I don’t?” Voden prodded, layering the words to hide his test.

  She only peered into his eyes. The specks of blue held themselves in bated breath around them. The rest of those in the grove slipped away from even the background, their colors washing away to a glint, leaving the two to themselves.

  “Then maybe I can help you find it.” She slid her hand from his shoulder, placing it at the base of his neck, slowly running her fingers through his short tangles of hair.

  His hand unconsciously fell into the supple curve of her back, where it met the softness of her beauty. His heart smashed against his ribs, hoping to jump from his chest into hers, wishing to land in the secret place where it could make a home. He now realized the vertigo of the chasm it
needed to clear before it could become true. Would it make it safely across? Would she know to catch it before it was lost forever?

  The fear delved into his inhibitions, halting his actions, but she set him at ease as her ruby lips pressed against his. He felt her secret place pull his heart in, gently storing it away inside. It filled him with a surging warmth, as she pressed further into him, melting into one conscious being. The light sparked brilliantly, filling his eyes with an aching blue and red light, blending into a furious purple, before turning white. He still felt her locked in the breath of the universe, willing for the answers to rise from out of the bond. He willed it not to stop.

  Finally, she pulled away from him, biting her lip. He gave her a confused looked. “I want to see,” she said, still holding the curls at the back of his head. “I want to see my heart center to your eyes, at the center of your soul, where I had hoped to put it.”

  He saw every ounce of love streaming from her eyes, and he tried to see past the light, trying not to squint at the brightness. A shape, he thought, began to form. “Have you done the same for me?” he asked quietly.

  “My soul was open for you to place your heart in it since we met.” She smiled. “You just needed to make the steps for both of us to get there.”

  They embraced again, holding each other for as long as they could. They swayed to the music as Voden glanced at the Zemilia, spraying its fountain of spores across the sanctuary. He looked at the stairway tucked behind it, now wondering where it led.

  His hand fell from off her back, knocking against the cube in his pocket. Curiosity soon whispered to him, as if aroused by his touch, and soon he was unable to contain himself, as he reached inside his pocket and pulled the glowing red cube out to see what it wanted. He stared at it a moment, the octahedron inside now bled black, and the light of the grove vanished from his view. Around him, nearly everything fell to shadows. The air around him was now bitter, the blue orbs were gone from his sight. Yael was no longer a being in front of him. The sentients were replaced with ghostly black blobs that shifted in flickering dusk around him.

  He felt a cold fear wrench his heart, and the call of the darkness breathed shivers through the lonely realm he found himself in. Yael. Where was she? He had to find her.

  He felt the grove had suddenly fallen upside down, headlong into the grave, but he was the only one who could see. Him, the only witness. And if loneliness knew how to embrace, it was tightly wrapped around him, though its arms recoiled the more he gave it thought. His eyes turned around him, searching for answers, finally resting on a golden flicker, peeking out from the stairs behind the blackened bulb of the Zemilia. The gold shuddered a moment, jittering through the din, as a purple light peered inquisitively at him. He stepped forward, wondering what it was, eyes adjusting to the flash of light. He needed to know what it was. He needed to know why it was here. It felt familiar, like it had been in a dream he could not remember, but the shadows did not give up their secrets easily. A mechanical noise shuffled from where it stood, as if metal scratched against the stone stairs.

  Voden heard a mutter coming from one of the shadows, unable to remember who it was that spoke. He never broke his concentration on the being of gold. He was near the stairs now, when a voice awakened a memory. “Voden? Where are you going?”

  It was Andar. His face appeared blurred, though he was clearer than the rest of the world, and he placed his hand against Voden’s shoulder. He couldn’t remember what words to use to explain what he saw, so his finger only pointed towards the golden object that now lifted off the stairs and flew further away. Andar seemed to follow his gaze, but Voden was unsure if he understood. Voden did not wait for understanding to settle with Andar. He climbed the stairs, trudging along the stone slats, puffing dark clouds at each step. He gripped the cube, now the only warmth the world had, coming to the end of the stairs, where he stood at the top of a cliff, facing a massive owl, standing in front of a doorway. In that instance, it burst into fractures of light, where it seemed to phase in and out of the darkness like water split by a hand. And as suddenly as it occurred, it was normal, as though nothing more than a trick of the eyes.

  “You found me through the crack,” the owl seemed to hiss, breathing the words like steam.

  The voice was deep and seductive, and its head tilted hard to the side. Its golden feathers glistened in the twilight, though from what light source the twinkling came, Voden couldn’t ascertain. It seemed to only have a single eye, burning a hypnotic amethyst light into Voden’s retina. He felt Andar bump against him, who seemed to be saying something, but Voden didn’t hear it. Voden stepped towards the owl and stole a glance at the sanctuary below. The shadows shifted, like a lake burning of black fire, consuming everything below. Now the cliffside was all that remained, and the doorway he had not noticed was the only exit.

  The owl suddenly trembled again, shifting into strange jagged lines, then vanishing into a smoky whirl, suddenly appearing closer to Voden, staring deep into his face. He could see the metallic gold feathers, seeming to shift in the wind, and the purple glare still lingered a tail of light as it shifted around.

  Now he could see the owl’s other two eyes under the first, and they never blinked. The black encased inside them held the deepest twilight. It turned from its scrutiny of Voden. The swirling purple line of light left a mesmerizing trail that slowly faded with the beast’s movement. Its beak never moved as a stream of smoke rolled out from its corners. Voden, unsure of what his heart now felt, only stared back at the creature.

  Come, Voden, it called, and its form stuttered again. It suddenly stood a few feet away from where Voden had just seen it.

  I have much to teach you of the Beyond.

  Shining against the darkness, the owl stood as the only source of light, its armor of gold glinting as it stared at Voden. Noise from the world outside had collapsed from this plane. The pounding music from the ceremony was replaced by the cold, voiceless wind, and it haunted the shadows, casting its hungry flares down below the cliff. The eye of the owl set its gaze on Voden, and the more he looked at the purple, the more it seemed to consume the darkness. Voden tried to break the gaze and could only see it reflecting off the razor-sharp feathers ruffling along its body. Voden turned to see the blurred semblance of Andar, standing by his shoulder, as if looking through a stream of water. His face was distorted but not enough to hide the concern he wore. He seemed to mutter something through the realm, but it could not pierce through the gel that separated them. The impression of his hand pointed towards the red cube, burning bright as the black, smoky octahedron billowed slender trails that fell heavily through the box and to the ground.

  Will you drink of my cup? came the hazy voice of the owl. Will you taste the knowledge you thirst for? Will you come and bear witness to what is to be revealed beyond the dome?

  The voice curled around Voden with the mysterious luster of a wise man, yet it rattled as if from out of a steel box, bouncing against the metal frame of the owl. The beady flare of the owl’s eye called to Voden. In that instance of wonder, while staring listlessly into the unending depths of the glaring eye, a sliver of light burned white behind the owl, stretching from the ground, cutting open the doorway. It bled a stream across the ground, casting a scar of light along Voden’s face, but the owl never turned to see it. The owl cocked its head further, as if in admiration of Voden.

  “Is there much of a choice, owl?” Voden called defeatedly, throwing open his arms. As if in answer, the light spread further, widening as the doors swung slowly open.

  If I were a fool, I would make a comment that would appease that notion, but I am not. I am wisdom. If it be that you seek, then there be no choice other than what I offer. The owl swiveled, revealing its back. His head remained fixed on Voden as it spread its golden wings. The light burned around the owl, erasing much of its form to shadows and light. Make haste boy and climb on to my back. There is much to share!

  Voden turned desperately tow
ards the vestige of Andar, who was still trying to talk to Voden, but the only words that broke through the separated planes were, “Where are you going?” muffled by the dense obscurity. Voden shook his head, unable to keep his feet from moving closer to the beast. He could find no thought to convince himself otherwise. He thought he heard the distorted sound of Andar following behind him, though he could not turn his eyes to look, staring at the plumage of gold, placing his hand against the owl’s back. The feathers shifted to his touch, creating handholds for him to pull himself up, rippling like mercury across the beasts back. At his touch, however, they became hard, stabilizing and shifting behind him, forming around his bottom so he didn’t lose his seat on the owl.

  The owl turned its amethyst eye back on Voden, its expression lost by Voden’s sudden consternation. Its mechanical face void of feeling. Its burning eye shot a glance behind Voden, presumably at Andar, who Voden thought must have joined them, but the raptor turned its head back round. With a mighty pound of its aureate wings, the owl shot through the doorway, breaking into the blinding light. The air rushed about Voden, unable to adjust to the brilliant realm, while the wind pressed him firmly to the back of the bird. Finally, he began to reclaim his vision. Colors slowly formed and melded together, bleeding as though they soaked a white page. The colors began to form shapes, when Voden realized they were high above the world. The turbulence of the air buffeted his ears, set to the mechanical cadence of the owl pumping its wings, which ticked and churned like cogs in a clock.