Abyss of the Mind

1

There is a ghost in your head, abomination. You know what she wants, don’t you? Yes, I know what she wants. She appears to me frequently, trying to reason with me to come home, to come back to her. “Where are you?” she calls out, “Where have you gone?”, “What can you find out there in that frozen land?” I hear her questions every night I spend in this place of perpetual cold; here, winter never stops, and there is no sun for me to reach out to nor moon to bring me enlightenment. Here I can be alone, left to suffer my failures without dragging you down too, my dear one.

I’m afraid I cannot answer your questions. I have no idea where I am, I don’t know if I ever will; I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to face you again. But maybe that’s a good thing. What I do know is that I need to find some reason to hope again, something I can grasp onto to stay afloat. I need to know that the misery I’ve brought to our lives is worth while. So here, in such desolation, I search, and I search, amongst the ice and snow, and the frigid winds; I look for the slightest relic as to the fate of our homeland and its people.

I need to find this hope on my own; I need to be able to present you with some consolation for the predicament I’ve pushed us into. I need to find a way to make it through today and into tomorrow.

2

I walk from sunset to sunrise; I walk through no particular place, toward any specific destination and yet I keep moving forward, one footstep after the other. Somewhere, out here in this infinite white abyss, there must be some sort of an answer to my sorrowful questioning; There has to be. All of this searching, all of the time I’m giving away to this barren land, it has to come to some fruition.

Behind me, a slow, deep growl begins to grow; it is a black bear colossal in size, with eyes as vacant as the night skies. It watches me eagerly, staring me down from across the pale expanse. It wants me to know I’ve met my end today; How can this be?

I know you bear, don’t I? Yes, I know what you are and what you represent, and what harm you can do to me while you have me. There you stand on that distant spot, the specter of death, looming down on me, reminding me of my immortal curse; it is not here to take me away from this dominion, no, it wishes to see me suffer and plead for mercy. I will not; I will not give you satisfaction in seeing me debased, you blood-soaked beast. Find your entertainment in the countless other lives you have your grimy paws in. I send you away with a whisper, “Go from here.”

3

The ghost is back, but then again, she’s never left me, not for a moment. We are bound together, aren’t we? You and I are bound to be strange wanderers in unknown lands, questioning the state we find ourselves in. I must remind myself that this is why I’ve come here to this cold place, and not to that splendid land of the wolfen kind, with you, basking in sunlight. I owe you some measure of peace, no matter how small. I will find something to bring back with me.

My day ends, and, facing the prospect of self reflections most fowl, I chose to sleep. As I lay on the frozen ground, I dreamt and was faced by a blinding vision, the sight of the glorious sun. I moved to reach out to it, I wanted to feel its warm glow on my skin once again, but as I reached forth, I realized there was nothing there; there never had been. It was all an illusion, and like a damned fool I had fallen for it. I woke in a daze, scrambling to find some comfort for my breaking spirit.

I now find myself sitting outside, just as the sun has begun to set. The sky is clear for what feels like its first time since I’ve been viewing it from this place, as the sun spreads its orange light across the vast expanse. I watch and I wonder, how many more times will I be forced to see this? Through sleep I am renewed, trapped here in this mortal dominion and constantly aware of my torturous fate, but how long will it be until I lose my mind? How long will it be until I wake from sleep and do not recognize myself? How can I live such a life?

4

It’s dark outside, pitch black without a single sliver of moonlight to help adjust my eyes. I awake in a delirium, long forgotten days gnawing at the edges of my mind. Bits and pieces of former selves come rushing back to me, a barrage of memories; it all makes me wretch. I know that I am living in true darkness now.

In this land of the moonless night, I thought I could find a measure of peace; I became mollified by the search for meaning, sure that there was some relic of a bygone day, some small chance of knowing what happened to the SkyBlood and their Celestial City. Now I know better.

I’ve started to bend under doubt’s hefty weight, my soul has become tainted by it and in turn it now seeks to free the loosely tethered corruption that feeds on me. I cannot escape it, I’ve gotten too tired to even try anymore. I will not bring you this nightmare, my moon. I will not show you the hatred I have grown to feel, and I do hate intensely now. I hate this ignorant search for artifacts, ultimately only meant to feed my ego, at the expense of being able to make the best of this and living life with you; I hate me for bringing you into this curse; I hate you for being willing to follow me down this path. Why did I ever find comfort in such artificial contentment? My hope in some brighter future was doomed from the beginning.

5

Sensing her ill-fated companion’s misery, the Moon Born vainly calls out to him.

I know your pain, abominable one; it’s so harsh and engulfing. The burden of guilt will crush you this life, I’m afraid. This truth has been apparent since you decide you had to leave the forest.

You can come home to me, Sun born. Come back to me, and together we can find our own happy peace. That frozen land is no place for you, my love. There, where the snow never stops falling and the sun never reaches past the clouds, there is where wounded creatures go to die. I know you are wounded now, I know you would ask for the release of death if you could.

I do not wish to see you broken by your guilt as you run away from the reality we now face. I wish I could make you return to this pack of mine in the forest of the wolves. We could work together to excise this demon from our spirits.

You forget, I too know guilt’s ways, I know the pain it brings to the lost. We both witnessed the fall of the upwards city; we were both in that desolate place, facing death and the broken visage of an idol God. And here we are now, where our attempt at self sacrifice has proven to be pointless. The SkyBlood are no more; human lives, human works, human ideals, they all exist temporarily, as they were made by the temporary. We never seem to understand that. And now you search for some piece of your past that most assuredly does not exist. I say to you now, it wouldn’t matter if it did. There is no redemption in dwelling on past glories, there is no peace to be found in the annals of time. We must make our own way, we must find hope in the self as we move steadily forward. When I see you again I shall tell you all of these things; maybe then you will find some piece of the man you were that inspired me.

5

He did not return to those warmer days he dreamed of. Obsession as a great chain gripped him tightly, refusing to let go. As predicted by the Moon Born, he would break under the weight of self-hatred and guilt that fed this voyage. He lost his sanity, eventually rejecting the sunlight in favor of the moonless nights the frozen tundra offered him. In this darkness he could not be seen by the phantoms that haunted him. But the voices of shame and culpability unfortunately remained constant companions. He began to waste away, refusing to hunt for his food or find clean water to sustain himself, an affront to the memory of the SkyBlood clan whom he felt he had betrayed by leaving. And so, alone, cold, destitute and crazed he continued to walk through the snow, a ghost of a man.

Next Chapter: Delicate Flower