Chapter 220: The Abyss

Alice’s lip bounced, the words she wanted to say not coming out. The gaze staring down didn’t blink as the figure moved his hand up towards her face.

’RUN! I NEED TO RUN! MOVE! MOVE! WHY CAN’T I MOVE!’

Screaming in her mind, the hand rose, hovering just before her face; the fingers split apart, and through their gaps, the looming red gaze: "Magi." The whispering voice echoed throughout the world, surrounding her from every direction. "’It’ wants much from you."

"St-" Her voice trembled, forcing out the word.

"You are cursed to be silent." Even as she finished the word, nothing came out of her mouth.

"Magi. You understand nothing." His whispering voice carried on as if never interrupted. "Magi. You are not the first." Speaking, Alice could hear numerous meanings in his voice; his words spoke about her current situation and things that felt ancient. "Magi." He spoke again, "Your fate has been played with." He paused for a second before carrying on, "Magi. Events must happen because of it."

Alice tried to talk. The words never came out. "Magi. Understand the depths of your stupidity. Magi. Understand the depths of task. Magi. I do what I do, because ’It’ expects this of me."

Lord Raven’s eyes shook for a moment. From his fingers, purple power appeared, arcane in nature, that much Alice could tell, but so condensed, so raw, it came out as a droplet of purple water, the likes she had never seen before. Falling from his outstretched palm, the droplet landed on her forehead, sinking into her skin.

"Cursed to see nothing."

The world lost colour. It wasn’t black, but the absence of everything. Her voicless cry, tried to call out to Chesh, the absolute terror overridding the instincual fear and awe she had for the creature. Yet nothing sounded.

"Cursed with knowledge."

A wave of information so dense it couldn’t be understood assaulted her. A warm feeling of blood rolled down her face, yet she couldn’t even lift her hand to try and wipe it, not knowing where they were anymore. History, time, the arcnae, runecraft, creation and the end. Everything she could ever want to know existed; all arrived in a stamp that couldn’t be deciphered.

"Cursed to be ignorant."

It happened not even a second apart. The overwhelming knowledge that threatened to destroy her mind and kill her existed, yet could never be perceived. She knew it was all there, yet could never even understand it.

"Cursed to feel everything."

Heat and cold ravaged her body. They couldn’t be described; every sensation of the two existed at once whilst acting in different ways. Air that she breathed had tastes and smells that never existed. Her eyes could feel the colours it didn’t see in the nothingness. Her ears heard the emotions of the wind. She felt her skin rub against the muscles beneath, and the bones could be felt by them.

Mixed in, she could feel the power of the world. The arcane power that existed everywhere. A complex web of impossibilities that could never be grasped. The difference in every single minute detail. She could feel it all, and yet could never understand it all, cursed with ignorance.

"Cursed to forget."

And in a second it all vanished, every experience, every piece of knowledge; all of it was gone.

"Cursed to see."

Light returned to the world, and through his outstretched palm, she saw the red eyes that had likely never blinked once.

"Magi." His hand lowered as his whispering voice spoke, "The Old Ones are excited." He spoke, the emotion in it unreadable to her. "Magi. The Old Ones are terrified." He paused for a moment, longer than he had ever before. "Magi." When he finally spoke, the pitch of his whisper was a fraction lighter. "You are called to the Resting."

Moving the towering figure returned back to the tablet. Gracefully it fell back down, sitting in it crosslegged position, and closing it eyes, acting like a corpse once more never to be moved.

Her hands worked their way up in their hair. The overwhelming pain she was in told her something had happened, but she couldn’t think. Her mind screamed she had lost soemthing important that she needed, yet could never remeber it. No matter what she did, desperately trying to cling to the memory of something that she wanted, she could never find it.

It ate at her, a desperate need to understand. What was lost had to be returned, to understand. it was the next step, she was sure the step to making everything ehr own, and it was taken form her. She wanted to scream at the being, but didn’t. She wanted to plead for it back, but didn’t.

The Abyss of knowledge had revealed itself; she was sure she had just experienced it. It made no sense. She knew nothing, yet was sure. She shouldn’t dive into the abyss but carefully climb down. It was the teaching she had been warned of all her life in the Mad House, but that warning was obsolete. It existed for fools who hadn’t glimpsed at what the abyss was. If they knew, they would dive in.

’What happened? What did he take from me? I need to know. What was it? Why can’t I remember? Soemthing defiently happened. Why can’t I remember?’

Her fingers dug into her scalp, almost as if she tried to claw her skull apart to reach it. A desperate, frantic, but meaningless attempt at searching.

’The Resting. I will find it there. It calls. He is letting me go. I must. I need to understand what I lost.’

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"Found you." A childish voice echoed, followed by his roaring laughter. The child lay atop a marble, hanging over the side of it, their feet kicking back and forth as he lovingly stroked its top. Sighing in boredom, the child looked down the dark halls, past the pillars that stretched into the darkness above, vanishing before they ended. Silence filled the monolithic structure as the child collapsed and rubbed the top of the marble with one finger. "He is playing outside again."

Nothing responded to the child’s voice as it was carried down the endless hall. Groaning, they rolled off the marble block and landed on their feet. "Again." Covering their face with their hands, the child smiled underneath. "One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten."

Pulling their hands from their face, the child saw that the endless halls were barren, the marble gone from where it stood. "I’m coming." Grinning with excitement, he skipped down between the pillars, carefully looking, his gaze always beeking towards the end of the hall, towards the giant double doors.

End of arc 7- Deadlands