Chapter 19: "The Emissary and Its Forbidden Prison"

Creation…? Didn’t that happen thousands of years ago?

On top of a nearby mount, a group of animals beheaded one of their own with a splinter. When its blood touched the ground, hands sprouted from the earth and crushed them all.

“This is how the bottom of the Abyss of Forsaken Faiths looks?” Zera asked, gazing around in awe. “How can it have this much space? It looks like another planet. There’s even a sun!”

This place is a maelstrom of contradictions: reality itself is fractured. A river flows in two opposite directions, a tree burns while covered in snow… what the hell?

“Who are you?” Zera asked, her eyes glowing as she stared at the imprisoned creature.

“Humans, you stand in the presence of the Primordial Eclipse.” It answered without flinching. Its mien inspired greater reverence than that of deities.

The wind toyed with a leaf. It stirred to life, and from it detached seeds that, upon touching the air, unraveled into nothingness.

“Why are you here? You seem powerful. Does this cage truly hold you? Or is it just for show?” Zera pressed, her feet shifting with excitement.

We don’t often have the chance to tread in places this extravagant and perilous.

“All that you see is my prison. I was condemned to coexist with those who betrayed me, in a place I despise by nature.” It paused, its eye fixed on us—vibrating, restless.

Zera walked toward the cage, intent on touching it. As her hand drew near, it vanished. She neither screamed nor wept, she only stared at her lost limb, mute, as if stunned.

She isn’t reacting because this place doesn’t feel real. I can’t shake the sense that nothing we do here will carry consequences.

“It is not common for me to have visitors, so let me tell you a story.”

Ready to listen, Zera sat upon the skull of… a manta ray? As she did, a yellow tongue slithered from the skull and caressed her hand.

How gross…? It’s so bizarre I don’t even know what to think.

“When reality was forged, The Genesis and The Ruin fought to decide who would reign over this world. That storm of chaos, confusion, and anarchy is known as The Creation.”

So this is what we’re seeing around us? But why is The Creation buried beneath the Abyss of Forsaken Faiths?

“In that endless battle, the lack of harmony gave rise to The Silence—an element capable of creating over The Ruin and destroying over The Genesis. That was both my birth and my end.”

The Silence? I’ve never heard of it before. Could its existence be a secret?

A bird with radiant wings perched on my shoulder. When it opened its beak, instead of a melodious chirp, only tribulations resounded.

“The Silence, unlike its brothers Ruin and Genesis, did not appear in this world. Instead, it gave birth to me and named me its Emissary, an entity charged with carrying out its will.”

It is unnatural for an element to create a being that acts as its representative. Supposedly, gods are not born from the elements—they merely seize them and claim their power.

“Fearing their end.” He continued. “Genesis and Ruin united to seal me here. They sacrificed their powers, and from their extinction, the elements you now know were born.”

“Why do you say we are in The Creation?” Zera asked, tilting her head, absorbed by the words of the Primordial Eclipse.

Are these domains truly a seal? A prison? It far surpasses the human conception of confinement. They have an entire world to toy with!

“What you see around you is only a representation of The Creation. Because The Silence’s will is to nullify all things, this place exists to remind me that I failed my mission.” As he spoke, his eye vibrated so violently it seemed ready to burst from its orbit.

How terrifying… I feel that if this being were ever freed, it could unravel the very essence of the universe.

“This abyss was the hollow left behind by The Tree of Animas when I was bound within it, and when it was absorbed. The Eternal Whisper is the only part of my body I can manifest beyond these confines.”

Then… are we speaking with an ancient being? That’s insane.

“Why are you telling us all this? Aren’t we just mere humans to you?” I asked with a cheeky tone, desperate to understand what the Emissary truly wanted from us.

The threads that formed its body began to writhe erratically inside the cage.

“I have already told you, Darek: you seek answers, and I seek a puppet.” Its voice deepened further. “I brought you here to find the Feather of the Late Beginning. It lies within the shadows of The Tree of Animas, whose echo still beats with life.” He pointed toward where the sun was setting.

That’s my next destination.

“What’s The Feather for?”

A clash of titans echoed in the distance, and from the impact, fragments of rock rained down near us.

“It is the most powerful artifact in this world. If you know the beginning and the end of a story, you can rewrite it. The only condition is to have The Silence’s permission.”

Zenith controls the Sacrum element… how could she possibly use it? And if she can’t, why would they even care about it?

“Let’s go, Zera,” I said, not willing to waste another moment.

The Primordial Eclipse gives me a bad feeling. I want to move immediately.

“I’m staying with the Emissary. He is very wise. I can’t shake the feeling I had when seeing the Intermediary—I want to know more about them. Besides, you were the one who wanted The Feather, right?” She replied.

Why am I feeling like this? What’s wrong with me? Can’t I even search for that object on my own?

“Be careful.” The condemned warned. “Even as a mere representation, The Genesis and The Ruin manipulate forces so immense that they could manifest into reality. Their power surpasses human comprehension.”

Reluctantly, I made my way toward the tree.

If this is your own prison, why not give me The Feather? Well, it’s just a detail… it doesn’t matter. Once I have it, I’ll ask them about Zenith. What could they possibly know about her? How could I defeat her?

“What do you know about the Intermediaries?” I heard Zera ask the Emissary as I walked away.

*********************

I’m feeling odd walking alone in this place. Could it be because I’ve grown used to being by Zera’s side?

Crossing a wetland, I spotted what I thought would be my destiny: a giant scarlet tree, as tall as a city, standing in a snowy landscape. Light passed through it in a peculiar way, reflecting off its surface a dark red, as if it were surrounded by an enormous pool of blood.

It is inverted: its roots reached into the sky while its crown crashed into the ground. Why was everything in The Creation so… unnatural?

From the puddles of water, prisms of various shapes and sizes sprouted. After a moment of paralysis, they surged toward me and carried me to a throne made of flowers.

Are they harmless? I don’t think this situation warrants unsheathing my sword. And… it would be nice to take a rest.

Using the plants around them and the mud, they created a stage and began moving clumsily, gesturing among themselves.

Are they… acting? They are actually funny and irreverent.

They performed a tragicomedy: five characters fleeing from something in great haste. One got tangled in a plant and became stuck. They looked at me, gesturing to ask which should die: the trapped one, or all of them together.

Easy choice, right? Nontheless…why does it feels familiar?

Suppressing a chuckle, I pointed to the one that got tangled.

This is fun. Are there more scenes?

The play stopped, and the atmosphere grew tense. They turned toward me, frozen. Their playful expressions vanished, their happy movements ceased, and their faces turned human.

What’s happening? Did I choose wrong?

One of them pushed me. In a blink, I was on the ground, a plant wrapping around my foot. Sitting on the throne was the one I had condemned.

I exchanged places with his character.

Then, the new king decided to kill me. In front of me, an executioner raised an axe, ready to behead me. I struggled, but it was useless: panic surged through me, and a powerless sensation paralyzed my body.

What’s happening? This wasn’t a play?

For the last time, I saw the king.

I know that face… He is…

“Living the terror that one reaps is the punishment that can only be delivered by those who dwell in the limbo beyond life and death.” Said a voice from beyond the very veil of reality, with a deafening roar.

As the axe descended, the ground began to shake. Just as I felt its edge at my neck, the earth split open. I closed my eyes—and when I opened them, I saw a boy on the stage: Milo.