Nicolas awoke with a scream. Panting, he rubbed his eyes and his surroundings slowly came into focus. His location was at once familiar and unfamiliar. The room was undoubtedly his, judging by the size and position of the door and windows. However, most of his things were gone. There was no PC and the posters on the wall were nowhere to be seen. They had been replaced with old-fashioned furniture and painted images of animals and plants on old parchment.
The bedroom was lit, but the light was much dimmer than he was used to, and it dimmed occasionally. It took him a moment to realise that the light came from a strange glowing stone at his bedside.
"What happened?" He whispered to himself.
A sudden bout of dizziness forced him to lie down once again as he pondered his current situation.
The last thing he remembered was falling to his certain death with Maria, the ground rushing up at him. He had felt a small amount of satisfaction at choosing his own death. Even so, what he felt most was bitterness at it all ending just as he was finding meaning to his life.
He'd had dreams before where he had been falling and awoke before hitting the ground. Wasn't it common to awaken from dreams in such a manner? Had it truly been a dream? No, too much had happened, and if anything, waking up here felt more like a dream. This wasn't the room he knew. Just what exactly was going on?
He tried to get up but found his muscles to be unresponsive. The tips of his fingers felt numb, and breathing was difficult. He noticed that his mouth felt dry and there was a dull ache in his side. He grimaced as he slowly turned his head to the side. It took more effort than he thought it would.
It was then that he noticed that he wasn't alone. Sitting on an ornate wooden desk, reading a book by candlelight, was a cloaked figure. A woman, judging by her frame and the long black hair flowing down over her shoulders. As if noticing his stare, she closed the book and turned towards him. Her features caused Nicolas to draw in a sharp breath, which resulted in a sharp pain stabbing into his chest.
A single eye looked at him in amusement. Her lips, thin and pale, did little to hide her crooked teeth and blood-red gums. White skin peeled back, revealing swollen red sores all over her face. But it was the empty eye socket that unsettled him most of all. A gaping black hole that absorbed all light. Even paralyzed with fear, the first thought, strange as it was, that came to his mind was how dangerous it was to leave a wound like that open.
"And so the great cult leader returns. How do you feel, dearest Nick?"
The woman's voice was mocking and exaggerated. It made Nicolas feel nauseous.
"Who are you? Where am I?" He groaned, his throat throbbing in pain with each word.
"As usual with the questions," she sniffed. "Well, you have been gone for a while, so I suppose it's only natural. You may call me Tatiana."
She got to her feet and made her way over to his bedside. Leaning in towards him, she whispered,
"How did it feel to tear down the peace your father worked so hard to maintain? Did it feel good to drag everyone else with you into the icy hands of death?"
Nicolas' mind flashed with memories of recent days. Of how he teamed up with Maria to get back at those who took his mother and Addi away from him.
"Where's Maria? What happened after I fell?"
He couldn't have possibly survived a fall like that, and yet here he was. His body hurt, and he couldn't move. There couldn't have been any other explanation. If he had survived, then maybe Maria had too.
"Oh, both of you died. You both splattered like ripe melons on the paved pathway next to the library. Can't imagine the effort it would have taken to clean that up," she said with a chuckle.
Nicolas swallowed deeply. He had difficulty finding his voice. Denying such a ridiculous claim should have come easily. Even so, something deep inside was telling him that Tatiana spoke the truth. Falling from such a height could yield no other result.
"I was going to die, anyway," He muttered. It didn't matter to him one bit whether he was alive or not. Either the fall would kill him, or his sickness would.
"Ah yes. Something about going out on your own terms was it? Congratulations." She replied dryly.
Tatiana punctuated her words by clapping her hands together.
"But Nick, what of Maria? Was her death part of your plan? You could have saved her, you know, if you hadn't been so self absorbed in your own problems."
Maria. Upon hearing that name, Nicolas' heart sank.
"Nobody lived to tell your tale of righteous vengeance, you know. The entire story was dismissed as the mass suicide of a crazed cult after a police investigation. All of you died, and over time, the entire incident forgotten. A rather empty and pathetic end, was it not?"
The woman's words were scathing, and they battered at Nicolas' conscience.
"Yes, nothing you did mattered in the end, Nick. All you did was to make life harder for those closest to you, those who loved you."
Nicolas remained silent. He didn't trust himself to speak lest his emotions show. He didn't want her to hear him sob. In the end, his life had been meaningless. That's all there was to it.
"What is this place — the afterlife?" He asked, trying to change the subject.
Tatiana laughed.
"This is your reality. Plain and simple. Don't you remember?"
"My reality?" Nicolas echoed.
"What? You think a person with a terminal illness like you could run around leading a cult? Surely you haven't forgotten how you spent years of your original life rotting away in this very room?"
Nicolas' breath escaped him. Now that he was more awake, this room was beginning to feel more familiar. Yes, how could he gave forgotten? With the memory returning, tears began to form and trickle down his cheeks.
"Ah, there it is! You've remembered, haven't you?" Tatiana's grin widened. "Poor sick Nicolas, to your noble father you were nothing but a mouth to feed. An embarrassment."
Tatiana lost herself in a fit of laughter as she mocked him.
"Shut up!" he cried.
He had meant to sound enraged, but it had come out as a weak whimper, his voice unable to match his emotions. All he could do was cry quietly.
"You should be thanking me for writing you such a beautiful story, Nick. Well, even when I gave you such an opportunity, you couldn't accomplish much of worth. Wasn't it Maria who did most of the heavy lifting?"
She stood up and walked towards the door.
"Enjoy wasting away here for a while. Don't worry, you won't die no matter how much time passes, so have a good long think about what you've done."
"No, wait!" Nicolas said as he reached out his hand.
It was strange. Despite how horridly she treated him and how she mocked him, he found himself choosing her company over spending more time alone in this room.
"I'll be back to have a look at your pathetic face someday, Nick, don't you worry about that."
With that said, she opened the door and disappeared from the room.
Nicolas was left lying on his bed, panting.
"No, please, I don't want to be here. Please let me out!"
No reply came, and so he did the only thing he could do. He wept.
Minutes turned to hours and hours turned to days, or at least that's what Nicolas assumed. There was no way to measure time in his eternal prison. No light came from the windows, so the only source of light was the glowing stone. Even with that, all the bright warm colors one would expect seemed somewhat washed out and drab.
As he lay on the bed, he drifted in and out of sleep. Dreams and reality melted together until he couldn't be sure if he was awake, asleep or dead. Fever dreams assaulted his mind repeatedly. The usual specters of the past would visit him in his hallucinations. His mother looked at him with pity and despair. She couldn't accept that her precious son had suffered her fate.
Oscar looked at him with disappointment.
"You could have been an outstanding leader. If only you had been born healthy."
His former friends would visit from time to time but never stayed for long. They all had more important things to do. Maria stayed longer, teasing him and doing everything she could to get under his skin. He didn't mind it. At least she was treating him the same as everyone else.
And then there was the hooded woman, who called herself Tatiana. She would visit him periodically, reminding him of his mistakes and doing whatever she could to put him down.
"All your friends are out there having a good time, you know. How does it feel to be left out?"
Her words stung, and yet every time she left, he begged her to stay.
One day she left the door open and even invited him to escape by bringing a wheelchair to him. Sensing a trick, he refused at first. However, she had left the wheelchair right next to his bed and left the door unlocked. He resisted as long as he could but eventually gave into temptation.
He crawled onto the wheelchair, a process that took a lot longer than he would have thought, and began pushing himself eagerly out into the hall. Even the smallest promise of freedom was enough to have his heart beating out of his chest.
Despite the drab colors, the hallway outside felt like the grandest of vistas after an eternity in his room. He looked around. Every door in the hallway was wide open. It matched the hallway from the guest house at the monastery, though it seemed to go on endlessly in both directions, eventually disappearing into the shadows.
Curious, he made his way down the hall, peeking into each room as he went along. The first room was identical to his, as were the second and third. Feeling his pulse quicken, he pushed himself past each doorway. The same, the same, the same, the same. They were all identical copies of his room.
"What...what is this?" he panted, voice cracking slightly.
Panicking, he turned his wheelchair and went the other way. After what felt like hours, the hallway ended at a staircase. He pushed himself to the very edge and looked down. The stairs continued steeply downward into the darkness. They went much farther down than any stairs he could remember.
He gripped the wheel tightly, his hands slipping slightly from the sweat. If he pushed forward, he would fall hard. Perhaps escape was possible through the stairs. All he had to do was to push forward and fall. Trust his fate to chance.
But then, the fear gripped him, and he pushed in reverse with a cry of shame.
"Coward." He heard Tatiana say with a giggle.
He felt a hand push against his back. His wheelchair tipped forward, and the next thing he knew, he was falling headfirst. He saw the wooden steps rush towards him before his face crashed into them with substantial force.
There was a flash of light, and Nicolas found himself once again in his room, Tatiana standing by the door.
"You looked so hopeful for a minute there. Did it hurt finding out the truth?" She said with a huge grin on her face.
He looked away, unwilling to show his face.
"You're never getting out of here, Nick, just accept it."
He heard rather than saw Tatiana leave, and once again he was left by himself.
He stared up and the ceiling and once again, Nicolas abandoned all hope.
*
Sighing, Tatiana put down her pen and gazed at the words in front of her. Another book finished, and all she could think of was how difficult the entire ordeal had been.
She looked around the room. It had been hours since she had looked away from the pages before her, and it took a moment for her eyes to focus. Scattered around on her old wooden desk and the floor below were piles of books, scripts and notes organized in a chaotic fashion no one but her could understand.
Various paintings and bookshelves lined her study but did little to hide the fact that she worked in what was little more than a cave. The walls were of carved stone, and water frequently leaked from the rough ceiling. With no access to electricity, she wrote by the light of a glowing stone using an old- fashioned quill. Whatever advancements were made in other worlds were of no concern to her. This was what was most comfortable.
Having finally reached a good stopping point, she got up and made her way over to the center of the room where a kettle sat over an open fire. She took a mug from a nearby table, which itself had been carved out of the bedrock. She paused for a moment before picking up a second mug.
"You might as well join me for tea, dear guest. I have some time to spare."
A young man with long blond hair emerged from the shadows of the cave.
"I thank you for your courtesy." He said, taking a seat at the table without hesitation. "I had no desire to disturb you while you worked, so I hope you can forgive my intrusion."
"There is nothing that occurs in this space which I am not aware of." Tatiana said, handing him the warm cup of tea. "Even small rats cannot hide their presence."
The man smiled, taking her words at face value. He sat straight and held himself with confidence, his colorful robes sparkling in the light. He showed none of the fear most did when meeting her.
"What should I call my most esteemed guest?"
"I am Adalet." He replied simply.
Tatiana nodded.
"I'm Tatiana. I hope my most recent tale was to your satisfaction?" Tatiana asked after taking a small sip of tea.
"It was slightly rough around the edges. But the... experience it provided me was quite satisfying, I must admit." Adalet said, putting emphasis on the word 'experience'.
Tatiana nodded gracefully at his words. Her eyebrow might have twitched slightly, but if Adalet noticed, he gave no sign.
"Won't you stay for a while? If you do, I'll be happy to provide more of the same entertainment. You wouldn't be the only guest staying here either. My works are rather popular with other great ones like yourself." Tatiana said.
Adalet regarded her with cold eyes for a long moment. Tatiana simply continued to smile back while awaiting his answer. Eventually, Adalet nodded.
"I would find that most agreeable. You have my thanks."
"In that case, allow me to show you to the reading room. There are others who..."
Adalet stood up, cutting Tatiana off mid-sentence.
"That won't yet be necessary. I'd like to peruse at my own pace for now and join them later, if that is acceptable?"
Tatiana had to look down at Adalet as he stood. Her eyebrow twitched, and keeping her polite smile was becoming nigh on impossible. How had he found his way to this most secret place?
"I could never refuse an honoured guest. Please do as you wish." She said in an even voice.
"It is good you can recognise me for what I truly am, but let's not forget who the true owner of this space is. I am at your mercy, author. While I am here, at least."
Tatiana laughed.
"I suppose that is very true. Yet that only counts at this very moment in this very place, does it not? Inquisitor?"
Adalet raised an eyebrow over the edge of his mug as he took a small, controlled sip. Tatiana hid her brief feeling of satisfaction at catching him off-guard.
"I am surprised you are not visibly terrified. Most are when they meet one of our kind."
"As I said, you are not the first to grace my halls." Tatiana said confidently.
"The others have taken to becoming your readers then?" He asked.
"Indeed. Why not go meet with them and learn their thoughts?" Tatiana said with a smile.
He could not remain here to roam freely. She had to find some way to get him out. She was becoming more and more certain that this seemingly youthful man was going to be a large thorn in her side.
"Thank you for your suggestion. I will make my way there once I finish stretching my legs."
"Very well." She nodded.
Her smile disappeared. It vanished so swiftly, Adalet was wondering what exactly had offended her.
"However," she continued,
"I would advise caution, dear guest. There are certain aspects of this place that are beyond even my ability to control. We wouldn't want any unfortunate accidents."
For the first time, Adalet's smile widened into a grin. It looked disgusting on such an innocent face.
"I thank you for your concern, honorable author," he said as he finished his tea. "But if you think one such as I would be in danger from anything else but another great one, then you are very much mistaken.
After putting the cup down, he gracefully got to his feet and bowed slightly.
"I should allow you to get back to work. I look forward to reading your next tale."
"Of course, it will be even better than the last, I assure you."
Adalet nodded and walked away, fading into the shadows of the cave.
Tatiana sat in silence for a moment, staring at the teacup in her hands. Eventually she took a sip, but the tea had gone cold and did little to comfort her.
Getting up, she walked over to the a single chest by her bedside and unlocked it with a key she had kept hidden in her pocket. Inside, was a stack of books neatly arranged and well taken care of, in stark contrast to the rest of the books in her room.
"It wouldn't hurt to indulge for a bit before getting back to work."
Filled with the anticipation one typically felt before starting a new story, Tatiana eagerly opened the cover. A new world awaited within, brimming with possibilities and, if she so desired, those possibilities could continue on without end. A place of eternal peace where 'goodbyes' were no longer necessary.
Was not such a thing the very image of paradise?