Page 104 of Bride of the Corpse King

IbleedNothing.

Waves of raw horror cause me to roll onto my back. I seize, I convulse from the knowledge of the Nether-fog invading the very recesses of my mind to rob me of all thought, of all memory.

IrememberNothing.

A parasite searching for what is truest and deepest, the fog Nether-fog tucks itself into the chambers of my heart, squeezing through them to feast upon the muscle. Upon my spirit. Splitting threads. Severing the cords one by one. Frazzled threads. Ragged threads.Deadthreads.

I.Am.Nothin?

Isla...Bandye.

The whisper is feminine. Somehow, she has found a way through my mind unbeknownst to the Nothing.

Bandye.

She gifts me with the promise of something...familiar. She tickles my thoughts, the neural ties between them, the synapses. She nudges the name into mymemory.

And I remember.

The Nether-fog retreats from my mind. It frees my thoughts. The chains of forgotten power break.

Bandye.

Something tingles, feather-light, upon my skin.

The Nether-fog abandons my nerves and flesh until I may stand again. And walk—through pain, through the lacerations on the soles of my feet. Blind, I walk, feeling along my way.

“Bandye,” another feminine voice joins the first, but the name is blurry at first. Like hearing underwater. “Bandye!” A thousand feminine voices.

I smile as the Nether-fog drifts from my ears, liberating my hearing.

When I choke and cough, spewing cold fog from my throat, I take a deep gust of air, inhaling air unburdened by the Nether-fog.

Finally, it gushes from my pores, disappears from my blood, from my essence, and from my sight. But the white does not retreat from my vision. Instead, it shifts until the source of the feminine voices greets me. Surrounding me by the hundreds, young women—garbed in bridal wear echoing the centuries of Talahn-Feyal—hover, chanting my middle name in unison. I know who they are!

“Bandye!”

A name from the Void itself.

But it’s the one directly before me with her golden hair radiating upon her shoulders, her cunning midwinter eyes, and mischievous smile who captures my attention most. I smile back.

“Finleigh,” I assume.

She kisses my cheek, lifts her chin in a subtle nod, and urges me, “Go, Bandye. We have the Nothing.”

Strong as magic and mayhem and mania, I run again, beaming. This time, my footsteps barely brush the ground—my limbs light as dreams and airy wings. Behind me, the bridal host tidal wave dams the Forgotten spirits until the Nether-fog is but an afterthought. Free of sin, of nightmares, of death, with the promise of a crown and the radiance of the first dawn in my spirit, I run headlong until I arrive at the very end of this gorging chasm where a deep drop-off awaits me.

Before I may allow any uncertainty to creep into my heart, I lean into the lurch of my chest, relax all my muscles, close my eyes, and smile as I free-fall into Aether oblivion!

Inside the Aether, this essence of the gods where no mortal has trod, I float. Engulfed by the cosmic energy, I laugh because it feels like water, like existing inside a womb. This womb does not drown me but cradles my form in its heated embrace. I giggle effervescent bubbles to ripple like a symphony of spherical stars. I catch them as if they are fireflies. I hold their luminous warmth to glow between the cracks of my fingers before releasing them only to create more.

In no time, currents like prismatic butterflies drift across me, pulsating into my skin. I waste no time plunging into one of those currents to ride it. I whirl to dance with the rippling tide until I’ve forsaken my body and become heart and spirit and flames and fantasy. And the fabric of prayers and hope and dreams.

In and out of what seems like hours, I swim and play and blow more starry bubbles, content to merely exist in this birthplace with its energy currents.

Hecomes to me first.

And thenher.