"You're finally awake," commented the voice of an elderly man as Nox slowly regained consciousness and opened his eyes.
"How am I still alive?" mumbled Nox, confused as to just what had happened.
It took him a few minutes to reorganise himself and take a look at his surroundings.
He was in what seemed like a small cottage, poorly built and decorated but sturdy and robust. The entire floor was covered in fine brown leather, while the walls were made of… large bones, finely cut.
A fire burnt ferociously at the centre of the room, with a white pot hanging from the leather ceiling above it. The aroma that the thing inside the pot emitted was soothing, calming Nox, who had been restless.
There was a bed at the corner of the room, on top of which Nox rested. On the chair beside it sat the old man.
He was bald, had fair, wrinkled skin, and an immensely long beard coiled up on the floor. He wore fine brown leather robes along with a thick black bracelet on his right arm, with numerous engravings on it.
Some viscous, golden liquid flew around his neck, occasionally stopping for a few seconds.
Nox finally gathered the energy to sit up straight. His body had healed partially, with large red scars still visible everywhere. The old man had wrapped a leather cloth around his hips, covering his private parts.
A part of the viscous liquid split off from around the old man's head and darted towards Nox before finally starting to circle his neck.
He took a deep breath.
The discomfort he had been feeling before due to the thinness of the air had vanished entirely when the liquid started revolving around his throat.
"Well, young fellow," the old man said, reclining on his chair, "It's been centuries since someone survived in Skoupidia for more than five minutes… You impressed me quite a bit."
With wide eyes, Nox turned his face towards the old man, "Skoupidia? Is that where I am?"
"Indeed," he replied, nodding his head, "Although it's commonly known as the Tower's Trash Can."
Nox looked at the elderly man with wide-open eyes, not knowing what the correct question to ask would be.
The old man just smiled, before asking, "Did you fall in here intentionally?"
"No," he mumbled, shaking his head, "It was an accident-"
The old man raised his index finger, ushering him to stop, "I forgot the most important thing… What's your name?"
"N-Nox…"
"Ahh… Nice to meet you, Nox; you can call me Tlazolteotl or just Tlaz," he replied, "I more or less manage this place."
Getting up, the old man slowly walked towards the boiling pot before finally taking off its lid.
The sweet aroma, which had been escaping the edges of the lid till now, gushed out, fragrancing the entire room. It was like the perfect mixture of sandalwood and lavender, which the soul itself could smell.
Conjuring a small grey-coloured bowl out of thin air, he poured the boiling liquid into it. A part broke away from the yellow liquid around his neck before taking the shape of a plate, sliding under the bowl and floating towards Nox.
With a bewildered expression, Nox picked up the bowl kept on the floating, golden plate.
"What is this thing?" he inquired, confused by the weird plate, which had now reattached to the golden liquid around its master's neck.
The elderly man poured a bowl for himself and shut the lid on the pot before making himself comfortable on the chair where he had been sitting before.
"My only friend in this desolate place," he replied, sipping the soup in his bowl, "Morissa, the Aether."
The golden liquid spinning around his throat stopped momentarily as a tiny hand-like structure emerged from it and shook itself as if waving playfully at Nox.
He stared at the part of the Aether that had broken away and was now spinning around his neck, allowing him to breathe normally.
He grabbed it, moving his hand incredibly fast. But the Aether just leaked through the gaps between his fingers, resuming its path around his throat.
He was taken aback.
How could it be hard enough to carry a bowl towards him while also being slippery enough to pass through the negligible gaps between his fingers?
Moreover, how could it change its forms? Did it have a will of its own?
Numerous questions flooded his mind as he examined the normal-looking liquid floating around his neck.
"She sure is feeling playful today," commented Tlaz, giggling, "She used to kill everyone except me who even thought of touching her… Looks like she's taken quite a liking to you."
Nox sat bamboozled for a while before finally deciding to ask the questions which had been bothering him much more than the Aether.
"Why did you save me?" he asked, looking sternly at the elderly man who wore a pleasant smile.
Tlaz smiled even wider, quickly gulping down the entire bowl of soup and keeping it aside before finally opening his mouth.
"I have a proposition you might be interested in…" he said calmly and soothingly.
"A… Proposition?" inquired Nox, confused.
"Well, drink up first," the old man said, getting up to pour himself another bowl.
Nox looked at the bowl in his hand, containing some sort of red, steaming liquid. Some weird chunks that looked like meat floated on the surface, intermittently crashing into each other or the edges of the bowl.
It emitted the sweetest fragrance he had ever had the pleasure of smelling. No Earthly scent could even compare to it, for out of all the adjectives that could fit it, the best one would be heartwarming.
He examined it carefully. There was no reason that the elderly man would try to add anything harmful to it; after all, why save him at all if he planned to kill him all along? This was the reasoning Nox thought of before carefully taking a small sip of the soup.
As soon as the liquid touched the tip of his tongue, he felt something he had never felt before. A feeling that he didn't even know existed in the universe he lived in.
What he felt could only be described as… ecstasy, far beyond anything that anything else could provide him.
His surroundings changed as soon as the salty and sweet soup entered his mouth. From the shabby hut he was in to now, sitting on a massive rock in the middle of a river, formed by the waterfall a few meters in front of him, so enormous that it looked as if it was pouring down from the clouds.
Lush green shrubs, bushes and trees of all kinds surrounded him on all sides. Their sweet, woody, grassy fragrance made him forget the rotting odour of the corpses, which he couldn't escape from until now.
The weird cold he had felt in the shack had been completely overwhelmed by the hot and misty air from the lake.
After a long time… He felt at peace, completely forgetting all his troubles and challenges.
But, deep down, he understood something, "This isn't real…"
Instantaneously, the waterfall, the rocks and the trees dissipated into thin air as if they never existed. He was still in the shack, sitting on the bed in front of the old man smiling widely at him.
"Did you like it?" he asked cheerfully, "It's my very own creation!"
"Y-yes," Nox replied, "But just what did you add to this?"
"Waving his hand around, Tlaz replied, "Nothing much. A little part of a unicorn's tail, a blue dragon's right ear lobe, a red dragon's left ear lobe… and most important of all… the blood of a newborn Kraken."
Nox looked wide-eyed at the old man, trying to take in what he was told. He gulped down his saliva, with the sweet aftertaste of the soup still lingering in his mouth.
He carefully placed the soup beside him before again turning towards the old man.
"What was your proposition for me?" he inquired, straightening his back.
The old man picked up Nox's bowl and chugged it all down before finally licking his lips with his long, dirty, dark-red tongue. A part of the Aether around his neck broke away and took the shape of a plate, carrying away the two empty bowls.
"Do you know how to get out of here, boy?" he asked.
"No," replied Nox.
"Do you want to get out of here?"
"Yes."
Taking a deep, long breath and making himself comfortable in his chair, Tlaz said, "I will personally send you out of here… Of course, if you agree to do something for me once you're outside."
It wasn't too hard a choice for Nox to make; after all, he had a lot of work left undone in the Tower.
"What do I need to do?" he asked, standing up on his feet.