They were in a cloak. An anomalous white cloak. Fantabulous, thick and … white. White as snow. A paradigm of the color.
The figure raised their hands and slowly lowered the hood on their head such that it was at the back of their neck. A once shrouded female face of immaculate fabulousness was revealed.
Aran wanted to take a step back but his back was already up against the wall. So, he retracted his head.
The woman forthwith inched toward him and only stopped when her face was a hair's breadth away from his.
Nervous, he averted his eyes. "So … obsession with fine erotica too?"
She took a step back and smiled. "That's what you've been doing for all these years?"
"Been reading before I could even read …" he said.
"Is it an Earthly norm?" She scoffed.
"I … dunno."
"I'm surprised you're not happy to see me. If you were, I would have shown the excitement I have inside me right now … it's explosive type for your information."
"I know a very few people by more than just their names," he said, "and you're not one of them."
She scoffed. "Levity. You do like your jokes."
"I'm sorry, lady, but you don't know me. I barely make jokes and half of the time they're bad."
"Not even a 'I missed you, Snow'," she shook her head, "what have these Earthlings done to you, Hayes?"
He raised a brow. "Earthlings? Hayes?" His eyes swept down her white, anachronistic cloak. "If you're into acting, you're just about killing it right now."
She mulled for a bit then scoffed. "Okay, something seems off. Could you stop it now? We must leave this world immediately. I'm practically pouring out fractions of my soul with every passing second. Can't stay here for much longer."
Aran sneered. "Okay, this is becoming a bit of a handful." He shook his head, crouching down. "Look, it's been nice—" he picked his books "—meeting you and all but," he stood, looking at her, "I need to head home. Y'know, change these wet clothes. See you around sometime, assuming you live here."
He nodded and started off.
The woman quickly circled her finger in the air. Aran's body turned around. She clenched her empty hand and pulled it toward her. Aran went pitching toward her. She put a hand out, stopping him from moving further.
Aran's eyes widened. "How'd you … do that?"
"I see the fabled Aran Hayes has picked up quite the humor," she said. "Why, please, stop ridiculing my sith. I know it's weak but that's because you made me come all the way here for you."
Grimacing, Aran cocked his head. "I'm sorry, did you say … 'Aran Hayes'?"
She folded her arms, narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips together in a line. "Mr. Hayes, there's a fine line between being witty and being an areshole."
Aran felt his heart throbbing in his chest. "What you did just now was …" he trailed off, "amazing. You used magic! I'm serious … and a bit concerned. But … I'm no Aran Hayes. I'm Aran Klyte."
She cackled, looked at him and cackled again. "What a pathetic name! Sounds like it belongs to a wimp." She sighed. "Ahh, the levity. Alright, Mr. Klyte, you've cracked me up—props to you. Now, let's get going before those pesky devils find us."
Aran frowned. "Can I … leave now? I just wanna go home."
'How the hell did she do that! She used magic and now she's talking about devils. This can't be happening right now.'
The woman's eyes glowed. She felt souls burning in her. Their cries loud. She raised her hand and pinched at the air. Between her thumb and index finger was a cluster of white energy. This trick was called 'Snatch'.
The woman's eyes widened. She gasped. "You … you're not Hayes, are you?" Her Snatch never deceived her. It all added up. There was not a sliver of dishonesty in his soul.
"I'm not," he said, "that's what I've been trying to tell you."
"The spell …" she trailed off, shifting her gaze to the ground, "failed?" She froze, standing there unblinkingly. It failed.
***
Kyak stood amidst a place of blackness alone. The only sliver of light seeped through the glossy, crimson carpet lead toward a throne upon which a beclouded figure sat, looming.
"My lord," Kyak said, "I've traveled the lands to bear rather heinous news."
"You've done nothing but disturb my quiescence," the sonorous voice reverberated. In truth, with all the souls whispering in his ears, he never once had such silence. "What other unsolicited adversity must you spell, Kyak?"
Kyak quailed. "It's something so perilous a problem that even the upper-class of the Mono servants shall find it difficult to stomach. It's something that I must herald to all the lords. It's something even the soothsayers themselves had failed to foresee: The return of the Soul Warrior."
***
Aran watched for a brief then he slowly turned around and slipped off. He walked. Then jogged, rounding the corner. Finally, he sprinted.
He sprinted through the rain. The thunder struck, causing him to jump. But he continued forward.
"I gotta get home," he jabbered, "gotta get home!"
Thunder struck again. He looked up at the sky. It was growing darker by the second. Misty clouds took to a prevalence. A colorful, eerie energy materialized. Just like the rain, the crimson energy began to go down. Creep down toward the surface.
Aran continued running but it got progressively more difficult. The winds were stronger now. It took a lot to move against their strong whirling gusts.
"Aran!" He heard from behind. A familiar voice.
He turned around. It was the woman in the white cloak. She came sprinting toward him.
"Come on, woman," he muttered, turning around, " give me a goddamn brea—"
It was suddenly dark. He looked up at the sky where the only light came from. The light came from the red energy. Clusters of such energy were weaving together, spiraling. Beautiful. It was a frighteningly mesmerizing sight.
A highly concentrated beam of this energy burst down from the sky and went right for Aran. He couldn't move. He couldn't cry for help. All he could do was watch.