Once more he felt cold, he felt how the wind was whipping the tiny crytals of ancient ice against his face that was growing nummb by the second, but he saw nothing in the distance, nothing close to him aside from his own body, aside from the ground he was stepping on, aside from the crystals whose sole purpose seemed to be to torture him after he had spent a few minutes in this place already, working on finally coming to terms with what had just happened.
A f#cking archetype, the messenger, the literal messenger, gave him three things, he was arrogant towards them, and so much more, he had seemingly even been partially insulted from how he felt, not that that was truly the whole truth.
Had he been in danger of dying?
To be entirely honest, he didn't think so...
A messenger would not kill, from what he had gathered it was the killer that killed, it was the destroyer that destroyed, it was the saviour that saved, it was the liar that lied, it was the truthteller that solemnly told the truth and nothing but, it was the talker that only talked, and so much more, it was just their purpose, but at the same time, it seemed to be their limitation given by nothing but themselves.
Still, after he had finally come to terms with that, he felt a pinge of guilt and fear at the prospect of something like that existing, something that was the first concept of something hat somebody else had believed to have invented.
Was there also somebody out there that was the archetype of what Cades had been, of what Avere would one day be?
And if so, with him longing to reach his goals, would they no be easily achieved by somebody different, somebody older, somebody better, somebody more powerful, if he wanted to save his sister, should she still be alive, could the saviour not just do it, if he wanted to destroy then the destroyer could do it, if he wanted to avenge then the avenger, so why would he ever trouble himself in any meaningful way...
He thought about this and many other things as he finally saw a gigantic red cross, many hundred feet tall, a long-haired starving body hung atop, covered in reddish material that resembled blood but was a metal without a single doubt in Avere's mind.
Avere was a bit hesitant at first, being surprised at the fact he was viewing this hell form a different perspective, knowing he wouldn't even be able to communicate with the violently twitching, hungered Arges that seemed to be just arriving in this place, all those years, decades, ago.
Still, undisturbed by this, and partially also very apathetic, thinking that Arges was truly a bit tiring when one looked at it, he knew he didn't really have anything to do until it was over, simply seating himself against the blood-like material he was soon to realize to be surprisingly warm and soft to the touch, other than when one was nailed to it, or just stuck as Arges, a big part of him that was currently screaming in frustration, though still silenced by the Sekaria, not that he minded the heat on his back.
Truth be told he found it to be a welcome change from this endless icy desert that he had been wandering through for a short while now.
Hearing the slight shaking, though it was still inconsequential when one considered that Arges had still been of the transcribe-rank, he felt slightly annoyed but quickly put his attention towards his hands holding a pound of golden-plated brass, soothing him with the weight and the surprising temperature that was neither hot nor cold, simply as a normal room should be, not that he was not of the current opinion that that was very warm.
It was beautifully made, the compass needle was a bit wobbly under the crytal-like cover affixed with three separate nails, all with a slit atop to be turned using something that was both hard and flat, offering a good hold to be fixed later on, perhaps something he would do when he got back into reality.
Ah- Arges screamed loudly while the bored Avere, someone who had already experienced the suffering of a few more people than this one, who had heard many a story, and had also experienced the suffering of Arges himself, was looking at the only thing in here, aside from the true nature of this bloody cross that was still unshaken at such a ridiculous height, at such a thin nature, at these wild winds.
There were some black engravings atop resembling swirly leaves dancing around both the edges of the engraved numbers and letters for the dial itself, surrounding the foldable fin, and around the thin itself, encased by the short circle the outer numbers build around it, all consisting of ancient numerals, similar to the one seen in Rome.
The compass itself, about one-and-a-half-inches across, was a bit higher than the rest, the ring of metal being quite interesting to caress with fingers, as if not made using welding materials, the nails almost only being for show.
When he turned it around he saw a small circle that held the compass that he hadn't previously noticed, weighted with some extra brass material so the compass would stand still and allow for accurate measurements when placed on the ground, the other part of the things on the back being a kind of holding screw that would allow the fin to become more or less fixed, being turned up or downwards.
Other than that the only notable things, Avere distracted himself with as he felt that Arges was almost done collapsing his own psyche and becoming a deranged b#stard, though he also felt a tinge of hate for himself, from the very side of that deranged b#stard, was that the edges of the apparatus were on the side of the compass seemingly cut off, creating a quarter inch of triangle cut off, and on the other side rounded, all lined with a thin black colouring.
Finally, Avere having distracted himself the entire time, it was over, and with Cades being perhaps the biggest part of himself, he felt slightly anxious to find out which part of Cades was the one deemed to be the one he would have to see.