"To my future soul, I hope time is kind to you. I hope you find happiness. I hope you find peace. But above all, I hope you find yourself." - Arius, Scholar of Everlas
~~~~~
Sirius wakes in a cold sweat, his eyes red as if he were crying. Frantically, his eyelids snap open, greeting an empty void of nil.
He grips his throat as if to tear it open. Nothing is entering his lungs. A choking sensation strangles the inside of his neck. If his fingernails were longer, he surely would pierce through.
His heaves are rapid and weak, only interrupted by the boy's incessant apologies.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."
His body throws itself from side to side.
-Make it end. Make it end. Make it end. Make it end...
...
But nothing was wrong.
...
He could breathe.
...
Realizing this, he releases his reddened throat. His breaths begin to slow, and the apologies cease. With heavy inhales, he gets on his knees. His legs aren't broken. He looks at his torso: no indentation. Tubes do not run through his nostrils; there are no casts covering his limbs. In fact, he's fully clothed. The same clothing as that night...
The initial panic subsides, and a vague calmness overtakes him.
Amber eyes take in the landscape, or rather, the lack thereof. It is merely a boundless ocean idling in its nowt.
Everything and nothing is coated with the purest shade of black he's ever seen. Not a single glimpse of light enters his hollow corneas. The fingertips he clawed his throat with have no visible form.
It's empty.
No sights. No smells. Only the sound of his strained breathing.
He slaps himself on the wrist. Nothing. No feeling at all, despite almost choking himself to death moments ago, there is no feeling.
-Did I imagine it...?
...
Where am I? Is this hell? Did I actually die?
Is this a dream...?
No...
It seems real. So real... yet feels so fabricated.
Though faintly, his body becomes visible. Are my eyes adjusting? He scans the area and spots a soft yellow glow emanating in the far span.
A minute figure catches his view, it sits inside the small, illuminated area.
-What is that?
He staggers to his feet; his breath finally entering a steady pace. His legs are weak; he hasn't walked in weeks.
Fear pulses through his entire body. An emotion he's felt more in the past couple of minutes than in his entire life.
-Do I... go towards that?
With no other choice, he presses on. While the ground is solid, his footsteps ripple as if on water. The distance between the figure and him doesn't seem to be shrinking.
-Is this limbo? Purgatory?
Eventually, after countless fearful steps, the figure comes closer into view. Is someone there? Is that the devil?
His frantic assumptions prove false. It's a seat, reminiscent of a throne. The horizon continues to stretch on... truly a void. Something rests in the chair. A person.
Sirius stops on the edge of the haunting light.
As if responding to his halt, a radiant glow expands and fills the vacuum. Absorbing him and his immediate surroundings is an enchanting brightness. And at its center comes a calming voice.
"Welcome, Sirius."
It's a girl, and a pretty one at that, seated on the throne. Shining, dirty blonde hair drapes over her shoulders. She wears a simplistic yet intricately woven white dress, laced with varying shades of blue. She smiles cordially.
If angels exist... this must be one of them.
With all he could muster, his voice frail and gravelly, he asks the only question he can think of.
"...Am... I dead?"
Her features soften.
"Yes, you are dead." She speaks warmly, as if her voice is a hug. Her demeanor is overwhelmingly polite.
Sirius drops to his knees. A quiet laugh escapes his throat, and he chokes on it; it's basically a whimper.
"...Ah..."
"But this doesn't need to be the end of your life."
"...What...?"
"Before I continue... did you... enjoy your life?"
Sirius stares into her kind eyes, his mouth hanging slightly open. Whoever she is, emits a feeling of nostalgia. Her eyes reflect both himself and his past. His whole life seems to flash before him, memories and moments that molded him into who he is...
He feels strangely calm... as if he weren't just murdered. A wave of tranquility is washing over him.
-What is this...? Is it this woman's doing?
He sniffles before composing himself.
"I... did when I was younger."
"But not since then?"
"There were moments I had fun, but... I... wasn't happy."
"Did you want to die?"
Her words are so blunt they almost hurt. The question itself sounds unnatural out of her mellow character.
"No, not exactly, but... There wasn't any point in me living." His eyes avert their gaze to the ground. He looks defeated. He feels defeated. A fleeting scene of him on that roof flurries through his mind. The girl seems saddened... as if she saw the memory. "I thought about killing myself sometimes, but there were two things that always stopped me..."
"And what were those?"
Genuine curiosity and concern. Her sweetness fumbles his train of thought.
Sirius sniffles once more, "Well, for one, I was too scared to die. I didn't know what came after it... Maybe it was nothing forever." His lips begin to quiver, and his hands tremble at his sides. "That scared me." He looks around once more. "Is this what death is? Do I just get to talk to you forever?"
"I'll get to that... What was the other reason?"
His gaze returns to the floor.
"My mom. I... I didn't want my mom to be sad. She was the only person who made me feel... wanted, I guess. She raised me, and I didn't want her efforts to be wasted."
"..."
A sudden realization hits him.
"But I still died... And now...I won't get to see her again, will I?" His mother's final words to him echo in his ears. I love you, honey. "I should've thanked her. I should've told her she was my reason for living, I-"
The girl's hand reaches down to pat his head.
"It's okay, she knew you loved her, too. She's known for a long time."
Her voice attempts to fight off his regrets. Gently, she caresses his knotted hair. A touch so soothing it could make you cry. But yet there he sulks, despite being flooded with guilt and sadness, sheds no tears.
"I should've been a better son. I should've done more with my life. Why... why couldn't I just get myself together?" His hollow throat croaks. Never since he was a child has he let himself be so emotional. He's so unused to it that it almost feels forced.
"Shh, it's okay. Everything is alright. You did enough."
Her palm slides down onto his cheek. He's shaking. Her hand is warm and soft against his dry skin. Sirius shuts his eyelids and consumes a deep breath.
"So... now what?"
The girl smiles like she's been itching for this moment. Excitement steers her movements. She gently takes her hands off his head and adjusts her posture.
"I grant you permission to live again."
"...Huh?"
Sirius peers up at her proud face, her eyes shut and smug. Before he can even get a word out: "I will send you to the world I inhabit. Where you can get a second chance at life."
"...Second chance?"
"Yes, a chance to experience life and its joys. A chance to love, to laugh, and to enjoy life in its entirety. A chance to start over..."
"Really?" It sounds far too good to be true. "W-why? I don't deserve that. I-"
"Shh," her expression mellows as she places a finger to his lips. "When you awake, there will be a lot of things happening. It's natural to be alarmed. It's okay to be scared. But just know, this is your second chance... Don't let your old life get in your way. Enjoy this life and grow into the person you want to be... I'll be watching."
-This can't be real, right? A second chance? Who is this girl?
"Wait-"
She only smiles.
Her dark lashes conceal the majority of her azure irises, which gleam like jewels, reflecting all he is. As he admires hers, his entrancement is cut short by a wave of weariness.
His eyes begin to weigh. The bright void dims darker. Its radiant glow thins and dissipates into dim embers. Drowsiness consumes him, and his body threatens to shut down.
-Wait... Who... Why...?
The sparkling woman simmers out of sight, as his vision becomes as black as the abyss.
The boy falls asleep.
*****
Beneath the surface, dirt sits still.
Suddenly, a speck of rock warps and mutates into a blob of pinkish red. Surrounding dirt begins to follow, slowly drifting towards the origin. The globs melt and blend together, slowly swirling into a liquid mass. The accretion morphs and shifts into the shape of a human brain. It solidifies into a wrinkled, soft, squishy encephalon. The circling dirt accumulates into a white, tough skull encasing the brain within. Tiny bristles of muscles wind together, forming damp, amber irises. Optic nerves slither from the eyes, attaching themselves to the brain. A mask of skin layers itself onto cartilage and facial muscles. Dark umber strands of hair protrude from the forming scalp. Nostrils, ears, and eyelashes design themselves from the epidermis. Eye creases and faint dimples appear in perfect placement. A tongue and uvula grow inside of the dry mouth. Tissue, tendons, and nerves stemming from the brain bind together, shaping the basic layout of a human body. Dirt bleeds into a beating heart; veins unravel along with nerves. Tubes of intestines untangle across the body's middle region. A stomach, liver, kidneys, and healthy lungs follow. Bones and muscles consolidate, and skin wraps itself around organs, fat, and blood.
And thus, the revitalized body of Sirius is formed. Without its imperfections. And along with his clothing.
His consciousness enters the newly formed mind.
A cough exhausts from his windpipe, but it has no place to travel. He's buried. Dirt trickles down into his fresh throat.
Wheezing, he awakens. Violent coughs expel from his throat until eventually the blockage escapes. Choking is not a pleasant way to wake up.
It takes him a moment to regain his senses. Dirt gathers in his eyes.
-What the hell? Am I underground?
What cruel irony to be birthed inside a coffin. Taking in the situation, he forgets the most immediate problem.
-I can't breathe.
The air is thin. Too thin. He starts to panic. His body is completely consumed by the world. Movement is near impossible. Claustrophobia can't even begin to describe the feeling. He needs to breathe, but every breath sends more dirt than oxygen into his lungs.
Feeling the world compress his delicate body, he flails hopelessly for salvation. His arms struggle to shift around, relentlessly wiggling to make the slightest of space. After what feels like an eternity, they manage to create a hollow. Using this tight space, his arms throw themselves at the tomb. Over and over, his hands pound into the soft ceiling above.
His mind has reverted to a primal state, one just trying to survive. He is no different than a caged animal.
A cavity forms itself around the frightened boy, and he gains mobility, though only slightly. Barely accomplishing to scramble onto his knees, he slams his back into the soil.
-Please, I don't want to die.
Repeatedly, he strikes the natural prison with his spine. More and more room to move starts to shape, allowing the impact of his thrusts to reach greater results. Any harder and his back will snap in two. Pure desperation.
It seems hopeless. How deep is he buried? Did that girl just toy with him? Was what she said a lie? Was he rebirthed just to die?
Again and again, his body wails into the cramped cave.
-Please... Please!
Finally, as if a gift from the gods, a fissure pierces through. Particles of light flood the suffocating den. More importantly, air. Another bolt of adrenaline injects itself into his veins. Determined to escape, he continues his onslaught.
Faster. Harder. It hurts.
With a final charged thrust, he breaks through to the surface.
-
With a tiny click, a withered hand starts the countdown.
22926510 seconds remain.
-
The sun's blinding rays flash across his vision. Humid air fills his starved lungs. The pressure lifts from his shoulders, and his body becomes as light as the air he breathes.
Finally free. He has never felt greater relief.
Squinting, he tries to make out where he's emerged.
His pupils dilate, revealing his new reality.
-Where... am I?
What unfolds before him is impossible. It neither makes sense nor could possibly be imagined in a dream.
A market overflowing with creatures and beasts. Stalls covered with colorful cloths, selling foreign items and what appear to be fruits he has never seen before. Marvelous stonework makes up buildings and the square. It's as if he stepped into a fantasy world.
Dumbfounded, his mouth hangs open as he sits in the dirty hole. The point of emergence sits on the edge of a large, circular grass patch with scattered benches. A dazzling fountain with an apparent lack of water streaming through it sits in the center.
Animals trot on twos, fours, and eights, walking like they're people. Some remain on a leash, some scampering around. Onlookers grimace at the sight of the boy. He offers a bewildered look in return.
There is literally an anthropomorphic turtle.
Some spectators appear to be human, or at least humanoid. Some wear small wings, some tails, and some ears from other species. Some even appear to be part human, half animal. Eye and hair colors differ drastically from those he's used to. Their clothing is diverse; some don clashes of cultures he has seen, but others are too unique to recognize.
The market square is full of scents he has never smelled before.
Sounds assail his ears from all sides, the sound of these people talking. But their voices don't register in his ears.
-What language are they speaking?
The onlookers don't dwell on him; rather, they glare and carry along. Is this sort of thing normal? No, it seems more that they don't want to associate themselves with him.
Though someone seems to be staring.
A slightly hunched man stands over by a stall held together from flimsy wood. Sirius and the man lock eyes. Sirius closes his mouth and shifts his eyes side to side.
-What is going on?! Who is this guy?
The man begins his approach. He politely waits for people and flying creatures to pass before continuing. Sirius finds the need to escape the hole. Pushing aside the complete sensory overload, he stands up and pats himself down, forming little dust clouds around him. His dark gray hoodie is now a faded brown. He takes it off and ties it around his plain black tee.
The man stops in front of Sirius. He's old but doesn't look too withered, the only exception being his hands. His facial wrinkles are prominent, especially on the forehead. Lines are carved around his eyelids, but no bags. Dark brown irises encapsulate his kind eyes. A sharp nose, larger than average ears, and wrinkled lips forming a smile...
"H-hello. Um, I-"
"Welcome, Witch Spawn."
-I can understand him...
He sounds warm but also... daunting. His fuzzy eyebrows also give him a welcoming appearance.
"W-witch Spawn? What's-"
"Eat this," he extends his hand, revealing a pastel red gummy.
Sirius glances repeatedly between the gummy and the man's eyes.
"Um, is this like a drug or...?"
"Just eat it."
"..."
"..."
"...No?"
"Trust me," he sighs. "This is to your benefit. Eat it."
"I'm not going to eat something some random guy off the street gives me! At least tell me what it is."
"It's called a linguistic."
"..."
"..."
"A linguistic?! No offense, but that sounds like a drug I'd see in a commercial with an eighty percent chance of giving me cancer."
The old man hangs his head and groans.
"You can hear my voice, yes? Are you able to understand anyone else?"
"...No."
"As it stands, I may be the only person in the world who understands you. This linguistic will change that. Unless you want to be stuck hearing foreign sounds, you... don't have any other choice, no?"
Sirius hesitates, a million thoughts cross his mind. Who is this guy? How did I get here? Where am I...?
What the man says may be true. He can't comprehend a single other sound.
Sirius has never been good at trusting people. But in this situation... what else is he to do? Nothing makes sense anyway, so he gives in. Throwing caution aside, he grabs the gummy from the man's palm.
"This won't like... kill me or anything, will it?"
"..."
The elder just stares at him, continuing to smile. No malicious intent is evident. Sirius takes a deep breath and releases a drawn-out sigh.
He hesitates once more before popping it into his mouth.
He chews the flavorless gummy and reluctantly swallows.
...
They stand in awkward silence; Sirius adverts his gaze side to side to avoid eye contact.
"So... does it take a day or-"
Suddenly, the foreign voices begin dissolving into recognizable sounds.
Beasts' and humanoids' speech slowly morphs into an understandable language. The voices of the market become comprehensible. And as they do, it's all the more apparent how unwelcome he is here.
"Look at his clothes."
"A Witch Spawn..."
"Come along, dear, don't look at it."
"Is he looking at me? Ew."
"This isn't happening. This isn't happening. This isn't happening."
"Why is one here?"
...
Sirius once again dons a dumbfounded expression.
-What the hell is going on?!
The old man clears his throat.
"You can now speak the most common language known in this world."
-Huh? Common language? This world? Isn't this just the same language I always speak...? How did that even work?
"Huh?" Sirius scratches his head, dirt sprinkling out. Nothing is making sense. This isn't how things work. He composes himself. Kindness would be best here, right? "Th-thank you. My name is Sirius... do you... know what's going on here?"
The old man's smile grows brighter. He grabs Sirius's hand and faces it palm-up.
Reaching into his coat pocket, the man pulls out a pocket watch. He places the golden-rimmed clock into Sirius's hand and squeezes it shut.
Sirius is puzzled.
"What is this?"
"You'll find out in time." The man speaks as if his words are reassuring. "For now, you should probably get out of here before you're charged with unlawful excavation. This is a public space, after all."
And with that, the old man turns and begins to saunter off.
-Huh?! Why is he leaving?!
"Wait- You're just going to leave?! At least explain what just happened! Or where I am... Please, I..."
Sirius's plea proves deaf to the man. He continues his forward retreat until he's swallowed into the crowd of people and beasts.
He's gone.
Absolute nonsense.
"What the hell is happening...?"
Sirius examines the watch in his palm.
The front side appears to be a normal clock with black, chiseled hands counting the seconds and presumably hours. Except, there are no tiny dashes indicating the minutes or hours. Instead, they are replaced by four images of a flower's lifecycle, one in each quadrant of the circle. Tiny side buttons stick out on the side of the watch. He presses them, but they do nothing.
He flips the watch over. Across the backside stretches a rectangular indent holding a flip-clock countdown. A countdown consisting only of seconds. Fancy black numbers deplete by the moment. No hours or minutes, just a massive number continuously decreasing.
22926369 seconds remain.
-What is this counting down to?
Setting the thought aside, he observes the market and its residents once more. Conversations between beast-folk, strange instruments being played, children playing through the streets... Everything feels so alive. The market breathes with diversity never dreamt of.
At the same time, his pile of questions continues to fill. Why did he give me this? Seriously, who is that guy? Why is there a twelve-horned horse walking on two legs? Is this... actually another world?
Suddenly, the memories hit him.
He died.
His own brother pulling the plug... Just thinking of it makes Sirius's heart heavy.
Unaware of the fact that his body is no longer his former, he examines himself. The tubes, the casts, the pain... they're all gone. In fact, his body feels great.
Gone is that defective body and life...
-But why? Why was I reborn...?
He had met a mysterious girl. He remembers her words.
-"I grant you permission to live again. I will send you to the world I inhabit. Where you can get a second chance at life."
The world I inhabit...
The pieces fall in place. No amount of disbelief will change what has happened.
While the sky may still be blue, this place is different.
He's not on Earth anymore. The anthropomorphic fish proves that.
He died.
That miserable life he led has come to a close. And while he doesn't know why, he's finally gotten what he's always sought after...
He clutches the watch.
"A second chance..."