"It was meant to happen." The bird's voice lacked any warmth—it soothed, yes, but with an inhuman edge. "An El'shadie who refuses can either be forced or killed. We chose the former."
"Killed?"
"Not by us, of course. But fate has a means to these things." It said, "You would have died to some peril. Perhaps this death could have been final if not for your awakening."
Merrin did not understand. "Awakening?...what!"
The bird went silent, then. "You lack copious amounts of knowledge for an El'shadie, but again, not every one of you was intelligent. So I explain now: At the moment of your death, you casted—or specifically, you released force. Utterly worthless, of course, except it allowed you entrance to this place. That was what saved you—at least in the manner you'd prefer."
"This place?" Merrin's thoughts were still buried in a dozy fog. "What is this place?"
"Names change," the bird said, "But function does not. This is a tool of the El'shadie. His world, a place he can tailor to whatever he desires. A world of pale color. A mystery."
"A gray world," Merrin whispered from observability.
"That too," the bird said, "Primitive a description as it is, this world does look gray."
A gray world with a strange bird…and me. Floating above it.
Merrin looked down at the distant floor of dark sand, heart pounding vaguely in his ears. Strange that it sounded like something pulsing from a distance. A far point that echoed muffled.
He touched his chest, feeling the heat of flesh, but no tremor. There was no muffled pound within his body. No beat.
I don't have my heart!
His eyes widened, breath drawing in forced.
I'm dead. I'm dead!
This…this is how the Almighty punishes me!
"The one who will never die shouldn't have such thoughts," the bird interjected. "A purpose has presented itself, one I doubt anyone can resist. So, best to free yourself of such unnecessary… what was it again?... Emotions."
Merrin looked to the strange bird, then to the backdrop of dark gray clouds crackling with lightning. His mind was still a haze—a terrifying haze, yes, but still a haze nonetheless.
Something, however, did linger in them. A thought, a memory….For example, why did he think he was dead? After all, all this being a dream wasn't an impossibility. He turned, strange as it took only a thought. With his back against the bird, he stared at the horizon of this gray world; storms churning, lightning sparking.
It was much like Eastos except for the greyness and the familiar darkness. Here, the lightning was also brighter and much frequent.
Thunder….lightning.
He remembered…Merrin startled as the scene flashed through his mind.
He had been struck by lightning. The heavens' judgment meant to bring death to whatever it touched.
The image lingered in his thoughts—a shard of a moment that should have been his final breath. It was an instance of the first time he had acted entirely outside his own desires. A martyr's death, but what was this?
What was the outcome? He was sure he had died, and the slaves were likely dead also… What despair they must feel as their lives were ripped away by the sky's judgment. A death as the Gresendent sisters mocked them for wanting solace.
Would they appear here? The slaves.
Such a thought sent a shiver down his bones. He peered feverishly at the bird and asked, "This isn't damnation?" he sought.
"No," it answered. "However, you can make one if you so desire… Well, perhaps in the future. Not now with your amount of force."
Merrin's thoughts flickered sharply. "Force?" he asked. "You mean Force? Caster's Force?" he had heard whispers in the mines that casters used some energy called force. An odd name for it, perhaps.
The bird seemed to offer him a look of chagrin, which was odd considering the absence of facial expressions. Nevertheless, he felt it. The dark creature responded,
"Yes, Force. But refrain from calling it Caster's Force. There's nothing but hubris in claiming mortals had a hand in the creation of any Force."
Merrin started. Once again, a realization of his current situation came over him.
"This isn't a dream, is it?"
The bird seemed to wait for a bit before replying in the same soothing, almost childlike voice.
"In a way, it is. But considering this is a real place, it becomes a matter of perspective."
"Perspective?" What does that mean? Did it imply he could choose to see this place as either real or not? What did that mean? "Please, what exactly is happening here?"
A frown seemed to press over the creature's face. "As I've already said, you brought yourself here by releasing force at the moment of your supposed death. This is an inheritance as one who is the el'shadie."
That word again. Merrin thought. Though not as learned as desired, those words did sound similar to an old language he had heard the shamans speak once. El, he knew, meant he. But what did the rest mean, and why was the bird saying he was that?
Merrin posed the question. "Why do you call me el'shadie?" his heart weighed at the answer, and this fear came from the reaction he could have to it. What if this revealed some purpose?
Merrin felt a bubbling sense of satisfaction grow in his heart.
The bird responded. "I don't have the answer."
Merrin started.
"But I know them as wrenches who often claim a horrendous life." There was a moment of pity in its voice. "But in exchange for such a fate, they have power. Power greater than any in this world. This world specifically."
"There are other worlds?!" Curiosity took over. The shamans loved knowing, almost like the scholae, he too, a once disciple of theirs, would find himself itching to know.
The bird did not respond to his question. Odd, given that it was willing to answer every and all that he had asked before. Given, it mostly did so with some amount of mockery.
He was to speak when the bird interjected. "Are you incapable of thinking or asking any relevant questions?" Mockery again filled its tone. "I know an el'shadie who was quicker to explore than this. A purpose has been given, yet this?"
Merrin stiffened, a devouring thought blooming in his mind. He had heard the words of the bird and perhaps judged its significance. Purpose, it said. A mighty purpose.
He had to quell the desire….but. It tolled him.
It was a thought he both hated and desired. One that promised absolution from his pain. And another—the possibility of awakened pride.
No! he tried to resist.
"So I'm dreaming?" Merrin's voice echoed the nonsense in the vast, humbling world. It was a strange place, yet what had the bird said about it? That he could make damnation here? Did that mean he controlled it?
You control nothing. His thoughts began to splinter.
Did that mean this was his inheritance, his right… His glorious purpose?
"All that and more." The bird's voice pierced into his mind, sounding amused. And with it, the voice vanished—the voice that kept him down, the one that made him a coward. It was his, of course, yet it was one that had always proved him worthless. However, with this… this place, it showed he was not.
He was special.
A smile curled up on Merrin's face. Liem… you should have believed the shaman.
That was it, wasn't it? This was it. All the pain he had endured, all the torture, even the things he thought were his mistakes—none of it was. It was providence. As one chosen for greatness, he needed to be molded. Hence, in truth, no death, no pain was ever truly his doing. It was fate taking its course. A course designed to shape him…
Merrin felt this truth settle within. He raised his head, admiring the gray skies that crackled with lightning. He stared at them for some time, his mind silent for the first time in a long while. The bird-creature was there, of course, watching him with an amused, near-satisfied gaze.
Are you so stupid as to trust some random creature? The tide of his inner self slammed back.
Merrin grimaced. I'm a fool, aren't I? The wall and affirmations he had just built broke. Was this all it took for him to forsake them? All the people who had died, and Liem. Now, he cursed him. Now, he rubbed dirt on his death. A mere test? Liem's death, a mere test?
He closed his eyes, letting darkness overtake his vision. The darkness was calm. And in it—that void that was his mind—he swore to himself.
You are nothing… for now, at least. Remember, you cause everyone's death, even the nameless ones. But the Almighty has chosen you for some purpose. Take it. Hold it. But never forget what you are… a jinx. One that should never indulge in this power… this purpose.
Hold it, but let it remind you. Never revel in it.