Smoke filled Athen's lungs before his memory did.
Athen stirred, feeling the brittle cold air rush against his skin. A thick layer of ash covered his tongue, its putrid taste slowly resurfacing his memories.
He opened his eyes slowly to a world now more muted and desolate than he remembered. Everything seemed more grey, bleak.
He was laying on the cracked stone of the town center. Around him, the burned ruins of this once peacefully and vibrant town remained.
Some of the flames still burned, replaced by a somber and quiet rage. The bodies of the townspeople, of his friends and loved ones, lay unmoved. A layer of ash covered many of them, as though even the world itself had forgotten about their existence.
Only the blood defied this colorless world, its dark, yet bright, red pierced his eyes. His mind throbbed as he recalled all the moments he shared with these people.
Exhaustion overwhelmed him, his head fell back down as his gaze fixed on a puddle of water next to him. For a brief moment, Athen saw his Mother, Father and friends laughing as if nothing had happened. Then, the image rippled and the reflection scream.
Athen jolted up, he could feel his heart pounding through his chest and his body shook uncontrollably. He tried to scream, but his voice was hoarse and sent a wave a pain down his throat.
He saw them.
Shadows walking where only death was around. He saw a woman running towards a crying child. He saw a man praying. He saw an old woman watering invisible flowers.
None of them noticed him.
He reached out, and tried to speak to them. But before he could, a soft voice cut through the eerie silence.
"Don't be afraid, child. The dead are only resting."
The Old Man stood in the distance, smiling towards Athen as though no tragedy had ever unfolded. His gaze seemed to peer deeper than a normal persons, as though he was seeing beyond reality.
"..resting? Who are you? What happened?" Athen forced out a few questions, fighting through the pain. His mind was still cloudy and he only had vague memories of the massacre that occurred, the weight of it all was much too severe for his young brain. Although he certainly had a degree of wisdom born from having lived another life, they were too fragmented and dreamy to have made Athen more resilient.
"I am just an old man in his final years," the Old Man quickly responded, before stopping for a moment.
"Your town was attacked, although I don't know by who. They were a certainly bizarre set of soldiers. I happened to get here when they started retreating, so I spent some time looking for any survivors."
"Did anyone else survive? My Mother? My Father?" Athen cried out desperately, clinging onto the faintest bit of hope.
The Old Mans smile faded slowly, replaced by a saddened look. He only shook his head grimly, not saying any more.
Athen felt his vision get muddier, he had this burning desire to start crying but no tears came out. He felt... empty.
"I'm sorry, child. Your father.. he was a good man. The things he did for the people of his lands will never be forgotten, that much I can guarantee you." The Old Man tried to comfort Athen, but his words seemed to have no affect.
It's not as though Athen didn't want to believe the Old Man, he just couldn't. He could barely remember the names and faces of the townspeople he had cared about, it was as if they were fading from existence entirely.
The Old Man kept his soft gaze on Athen, studying him deeply. Everything was quiet, oly interrupted by the soft crackling of embers. The silhouettes of the townspeople had disappeared, but Athen could still vaguely remember their forms. It all seemed so familiar, as though he had seen this sight before.
"You saw it, didn't you?" The Old Man said softly, barely above a whisper.
Athen looked up, his eyes distant.
"The world when it lost it's color." The Old Man walked closer to Athen, and sat on some rubble before continuing,
"Most eyes see the surface, they see the skin of an animal, the paint on the surface. Your eyes, however, have begun to peel away at that skin. You can catch glimpses of the bones, of the organs."
Athen stared confusedly, what does that mean? The skin of an animal? Seeing beyond the skin? He could tell it was a metaphor, a metaphor likely about his trauma and perception of the world following it. But it sounded.. grim. Athen felt like there was more to what the Old Man was saying, but he couldn't quite grasp it.
Athen looked around once more, remembering the sight of the shadows walking around.
"I saw shadows; silhouettes of these people.." Athen forced out, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions.
"Remnants, they are its memory of people. You were spared because it remembers you too, a long thread of memories that extend far deeper than the ashes."
It? Does this thing the old man is talking about know about my memories of Earth? Is that what he means?
"What is it? Why does it remember me?"
"It goes by many names, the Eternal Night, the All-Consuming Mirror. These names don't truly encompass what it is however. It's more than a reflection, it is more than the darkness of night. It is a great sage, it knows all and sees all. It is a void.. " The Old Man paused for a moment, a reverent look on his face.
"It is the Abyss."
Athen was left shocked at the Old Mans words,
Abyss? Like the one I remember from Earth? Why would it be here, or is that just a coincidence? I don't remember any reports coming out about seeing shadow figures...
Athen was left with more questions than before, but the Old Man seemed unwillingly to share any further. At least for now. The Old Man helped Athen to his feet, and they began burying the bodies of everyone. He approached the first body, his stomach sinking further and further as he got closer. He thought of what face the man might have, what expression he had before he died.
And then he finally saw it, a look of terror unlike anything had seen before was plastered on the dead mans face. It was gruesome, Athen could taste the despair the man felt before he died. This one mans face alone should've been enough to traumatize Athen, but Athen felt nothing. He recognized the depths of misery the man had gone through, but the mans lifeless body just looked natural before Athens empty eyes.
This must be a result of the trauma, I have not accepted the gravity nor reality of what occurred. Athen reasoned to himself.
The two began moving all the bodies towards a large clearing in the center of town, the place where he would bury everyone in hopes that they may always be remembered. He recognized some faces more than others, but none of them caused a stir in Athen's psyche.
Then, he got to Aubrey and Martha. When he finally found the courage to approach, he froze. Their heads were severed cleanly at the base of the neck, not even a drop of blood visible. The skin of the poor girls was beated and bruised, cuts running all around their faces.
And their expressions... a terror so raw it twisted Athens stomach and made life itself feel obscene.
Athen immediately felt his body grow cold, a stinging sensation all across his body. His heart felt heavy, far heavier than even a mountain. A wave of pain crashed into Athens head, he felt as if his brain was exploding into a thousand different pieces.
His breathing became quick and unsteady, his body shaking beyond control. He heard the sounds of the two girls voices in the growing wind around him, like whispers. The shadows around him deepened, and Athen collapsed to his hands and knees. The ground beneath his hands began to crack, more and more, finer and finer. The cracks spread out like a plague, slowly turning all the stone around him into dust.
The Old Man placed a hand on Athen's shoulder, his touch distracted Athen for long enough for the pain to fade away and the destruction of the pavement to cease. Athen felt his brain clear slightly, and when he saw what was around him, he was shook.