Chapter 1:
Strange Aeons
Asher Anderson's frail, wrinkled hand rested on the edge of a record player next to his bed, and his fingers tapped gently to the rhythm of George Harrison's 'All Things Must Pass'.
He was on the precipice of surrendering to sleep's warm embrace, his eyelids drooping like the curtains in an old theater after the final act, when a familiar specter manifested beside him.
"Hello my old... friend," he croaked, his voice a frail whisper, the kind of greeting one would offer to a long-lost confidante.
An adolescent girl with long white hair, cascading like moonlight over her shoulders, donned a gothic dress that seemed to be woven from the night itself. Her crimson eyes, both alluring and otherworldly, locked onto Asher's as she responded to his greeting. Her presence was a haunting contrast to the dimly lit room, her ethereal beauty tinged with a touch of melancholy.
"You look just the same as that day," Asher observed, mustering an effort to straighten himself up in his bed. "How long has it been?"
"Since the last time? For you, or for me?" she replied, her voice a delicate, haunting whisper that seemed to echo through the room.
"The last time? It's been about a month for me," Asher replied, his tone tinged with a hint of amusement. "I may be old, but I'm not senile."
"Ah, forgive me," she murmured, her words carrying the weight of centuries. "The Aeons just fly by when you operate beyond the reach of worldly time. I must have tended to another 42,000 since then."
"'So it is that in our world, hopes are thwarted at every turn, and the people's lot is always pain,'" Asher remarked.
She chuckled softly, the sound a haunting melody. "Haha, are you now quoting the classics at me?"
"Oh, the classics, you call them?" Asher grinned faintly, revealing a glimmer of his old spirit. "I thought you were older than time."
"Older than your time, not older than mine," she countered with a cryptic smile.
"Have you come to argue, or have you come to tempt?" Asher inquired, his eyes peering into the abyss of her own.
"Neither," she replied, her voice taking on a tone of gentle sincerity. "Maybe I just missed you. Maybe you are... special."
"You have the gall to say that after drowning my mother and almost killing me in the process?" Asher's voice quivered with the pain of that distant memory.
"But that was... how long has it been?" she questioned, her eyes locked onto his.
"73 years. For me," Asher replied, his gaze unwavering. "I can forgive, but I will not forget. Not as long as my heart is still beating."
Asher continued to tap his fingers to the music as he gazed at the timeless figure before him. "Life has its way of teaching forgiveness, even to a stubborn old man like me."
She lowered her eyes for a moment, a hint of remorse in her red gaze. "I understand your anger, Asher. I've been witness to countless tragedies, but I'm here to bring peace."
Asher's eyes softened, and he let out a weary sigh. "Peace, yes. That's all we seek in the end, isn't it?"
She nodded in agreement. Her presence seemed to lose some of its daunting chill as she considered Asher's words. "Yes, Asher. Peace is the ultimate destination, the silent embrace of eternity."
Asher's fingers continued to dance to the melancholic rhythm of the music, his frail form sinking deeper into the bed. "I've had a good run, my friend. 'A long and winding road' through joy and sorrow. But now, as the last notes of this record fade away, I feel it's time. But there's something I've often wondered. Don't you think there is a difference between sending someone off to an unknown destination and going on the journey yourself? Aren't you the least bit curious what awaits at the other side of the light?"
She remained silent for a moment, her crimson eyes reflecting a myriad of emotions. Asher's question seemed to pierce through the veil of her timeless existence, stirring something deep within her.
"I've never thought about it quite that way," she confessed, her voice now carrying a hint of vulnerability. "I've always been the harbinger, the guide to the great unknown. I've never considered the possibility of... going on the journey myself."
Asher's lips curved into a faint smile, the wrinkles on his face etching a map of a life well-lived, as he reached out his trembling hand, extending it toward hers.
She gazed at his outstretched hand, her eyes now softened with curiosity and a hint of longing.
Finally, with a hint of a smile and a glint of anticipation in her crimson eyes, she reached out and gently took Asher's hand, intertwining her ethereal fingers with his fragile ones.
As their hands met, the ancient record player played its last notes.
'All things must pass away.'
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