Elarion drifted to sleep.....
The day he died:-
Somewhere between breath and silence, he died.
He didn't scream. Didn't beg. Didn't even fight back.
His body fell in pieces—betrayed, broken.
And then…
Nothing.
---
Light.
A blinding white that held no warmth. No direction.
He floated there—empty.
Until shapes emerged. Not men. Not monsters. Not anything he could name.
Just watchers. Their robes flickered like flame and fog. Their eyes—closed.
Elarion opened his eyes.
There was no sky.
No walls.
No sound.
Only light — vast and soft, yet infinite.
It pulsed, slow and deep, like something enormous was breathing.
He existed — somehow — yet there was no body to feel.
No memory. No name.
Only presence.
---
He didn't know if he stood or floated. There was no ground beneath him, and yet there he was — calm. Balanced.
His lungs moved, but there was no air.
His skin felt touched, but there was no wind.
---
Something in him stirred.
Then—
A voice.
Not loud.
Not distant.
Not male or female.
It simply was.
> "You have awakened."
---
Elarion lifted his head.
There was no face, no form. Only the center of the light — warm, steady, watching.
> "...Am I alive?" he asked, unsure if the words were sound or thought.
> "You are in between."
---
That answer meant nothing.
Still, it didn't disturb him.
He didn't panic.
Didn't fear.
Even the absence of fear didn't matter.
It was as though someone had scraped out his insides and left only the shape of a boy behind.
---
> "Who am I?" he asked at last.
> "You were someone."
"You were many things."
"You were betrayed."
---
That word caught something deep in him.
Betrayed.
It echoed through the emptiness inside.
Not pain. Not anger.
Just... familiarity. Like hearing an old song and forgetting why it made you weep.
> "I don't remember."
> "You will."
---
The light flickered — subtly — as if amused.
> "You have two choices."
> "Remain here. Empty. Forgotten."
"Or descend — begin again. Start below all others. Without favor. Without memory. Without mercy."
---
Elarion's expression didn't change.
But something ancient turned beneath his skin.
> "And if I fail?"
> "You will not return. You will not ascend.
You will be undone."
>"What do I have to give?"
> "Everything," the voice replied. "Your name. Your self. Your past."
> "Only one thing will remain: the truth you can't erase."
> "And your trial—hell."
---
He paused.
No fear. No hope.
Then, his lips moved.
> "I want to go back."
> "Why?"
A quiet pause.
> "I don't know."
"But I want to."
---
The light watched him in silence.
Then, it pulsed once — like the beat of a great, distant heart.
> "So be it."
> "A servant will await you."
"He will remember what you cannot."
"He will call you by your true name."
---
> "And what is my name?" Elarion asked.
> "You will learn to earn it again."
---
Cracks formed in the light — thin, dark veins crawling through it.
From behind the divine glow, voices whispered. Low. Ancient. Unknowable.
> "We do not expect your return."
"We wonder what you'll become."
"We will remember... only if you make us."
---
And the light shattered.
---
He paused.
No fear. No hope.
---
The cold touched him then — not wind, not chill, but the ache of meaning returning to a body that forgot how to hold it.
He smiled faintly.
It wasn't joy. It wasn't even defiance.
Just... something true.
> "Then watch me."
---
And with that—
He fell.
Not downward. Not through space.
He fell through existence itself.
---
He fell straight into hell...
---
The air was dry.
But not air.
Something thinner. Heavier.
Ash.
He stood barefoot.
His skin young, smooth.
But everything inside him felt ancient.
Like he'd been here before.
---
Then—
Chains.
Somewhere distant.
Dragging.
---
A figure appeared, walking through coals that didn't burn.
Not monstrous.
Not human.
Something between.
Tall. Horned. Cloaked in shadows that whispered like smoke.
Eyes glowing like dying embers.
> "Welcome," the being said, its voice velvet and iron.
"I am Berial. Assigned to guide you."
---
He blinked.
No fear. No name. Nothing left inside.
Only instinct.
> "...Where am I?"
> "This is the gate," Berial answered.
"Your mind will build the rest, not this empty one you have now, but from your past experience taht you will remember soon...."
" Hell is not just a place, it can hear you, it will shape itself according to your soul. Hell is death but not dead."
---
Around them: black sand. Shattered stones. The sky pulsed like a heartbeat in smoke.
> "This place is shaped by you," Berial said.
"By what was done to you.
By what you can't forget—even when your mind is empty."
> "You will see what breaks you. It all depends on you and only you."
---
He stared.
Still empty.
> "And if I break?"
Berial's smile was not cruel.
Only certain.
> "Then you become one of us."
---
He turned away.
Not in fear.
But because deep down—somewhere beyond this amnesia—
He knew:
He wouldn't break.
Not because he was strong.
But because…
He had nothing left to lose.
And so it began.
A realm not of fire, but shadows shaped by his own buried mind. Tortures twisted from pieces he didn't even recognize. He fought monsters built from guilt he could not name. He ran through endless nights, not knowing what he searched for.
He survived it.
And somewhere, amidst the dark, he earned it, his name again. He now remembered everything too clearly.
His name:
Elarion.
The moment it came back to him, the hell cracked open.
---
Present day:-
Whooshh...
A strong gust of mind passed making Elarion open his eyes.
His red and blue eye staring straight through everything.
And a smile...made his way. An Eerie silent smile.