AMIDST A WHIRLWIND OF COLORS that danced like fireflies on a moonless night, the once-pure skies blurred into a tapestry of ethereal hues, as if the heavens wept—or perhaps lamented in outraged fury.
Lucian, once a denizen of the celestial heights, now plummeted through a kaleidoscopic descent. The grandeur of places, the multitude of beings, and the splendor of the grand cities, along with the myriad shades of the heaven's skies all blended into an awe-inspiring yet ephemeral blur.
His senses were awash with wonder as the sights passed by. Although moments of beauty were sparse, for this surreal journey was engulfed in a feverish burn that transcended any mortal notion of pain. And due to the nature of this journey, he traveled not in the flesh, as his body had long been torn from his bones before they too, were disintegrated.
Instead, he traversed in the purest of forms—the truly immortal essence in the many realms, a soul. Although, that too, was not a blessing but a curse, as this descent unraveled him beyond all means; the ethereal threads that once composed his soul now danced in chaos, pulling apart before stitching back together, tearing away at his identity, and leaving him in a maddening state of perpetual, tortuous transformation.
Lucian's soul regenerated naturally, only to be pulled apart by the descent in an ever shifting and relentless dance; entwined in a divine and infernal waltz. With each passing moment, he felt shards of his soul scatter like stardust, carried away by the cosmic breeze, as they cried out in despair at the rift between them.
Each fragment of his soul carried bits of himself and pieces of his memory, playing out one final time before refracting and disjointing.
Glimmers of the oppression he faced, his harsh life on the streets, long-forgotten friendships, and cherished moments taunted him like distant echoes, swallowed by the emotional trauma that enveloped each departing fragment.
While disembarking on their own respective journeys through the heavens, Lucian attempted to grasp onto these fragments of his past and his own self; hoping they might anchor him amidst this surreal turmoil, but they only slipped through his fractured consciousness like sand through clenched fingers…
And so, The Descent continued, fractured in different colors and uniqueness to each part of his soul. However, each carried the withering burn of the unthinkable—the disintegration of the soul.
Nevertheless, his fragments continued.
Color took on new meaning, vibrant and alive, stirring up the depths of emotions and secrets unseen to most, coursing through the very fabric of the many realms.
A vivid tapestry of memories and tales unfurled, whispering stories of forgotten realms, forgotten knowledge, and unwanted lives and past histories playing out.
In this moment of time, with his soul scattered, yet one in thought, he glimpsed at something greater than power, and even the gods. He peered into the universal secrets of enlightenment and understanding; yet, even as his mind yearned to assimilate more of these fleeting visions, they eluded him, like dreams at dawn.
The various heavens he had passed, and the many realms he glimpsed into, were now mere glimmers, distant islands floating in the vast ocean of his consciousnesses, which, too, was distant to himself, growing farther apart as he descended further down.
The Empyrean heavens—where various beings of celestial splendor and illusory righteousness—now shimmered as elusive mirages, leaving a deep taste of melancholy in his soul; how could he have ever felt at home with the amount of unjust and false beliefs in those celestial heights, but was that any worse than this breathtaking yet agonizing descent?
As he descended further, the veil between the realms grew thin, as did his intelligence, which dwindled as more and more parts of his being dislodged; affording a simpler perspective as he slipped through the spatial crevices of the heavens, descending into the mortal realm below.
Enormous trees with gnarled branches, blanketed in emerald foliage, reached upward, as if yearning to touch the heavens, while their roots anchored deep within the embrace of the blue-and-green earth.
Bustling cities sprawled like living organisms, pulsating with the vibrant rhythm of mortal lives intertwined.
Strange ethereal beings then caught his eye, roaming such cities, though they were shrouded in nature. Each carried a spark of mana unlike the mortals around them. Yet, most resembled these strange mortals, as their laughter and tears echoed through the fabric of reality.
Thus, Lucian analyzed the weight of their short-lived but passionate existences—a fleeting dance between birth and death, imbued with a significance unknown to immortals.
Lucian held onto what thought processing he had, yearning to reach out, desperate to share in their joys and sorrows alike, but he remained a fractured entity trapped between realms; simply unable to interact as the winds of The Descent dictated his journey.
The paradox of his nature tore at what little remained of his being. He was neither fully angelic, infernal, or wholly mortal, forever suspended in a state of unbelonging…
Now, in the depths of his descent, the abyss beckoned—an unfathomable chasm of darkness and enigma. Neither a realm in itself, for it was void beyond the realms, intermingling with various hellish realms, as the opposite of the amalgamation of the heavens.
He knew not what awaited him in that void.
However, he knew it held the allure of finality, intensified by the way his soul continued to burn and splinter—was this where he belonged? A place where his shattered self might find release or redemption, but most likely, face his own destruction.
He was cast away from the heavens, a place he didn't want to be, yes, though nonetheless a place he knew his entire life, a place that could only be described as… a home, nevertheless. Yet did he belong in any of the other realms? Could he even be welcomed among mortals?
His heart ached with loneliness, wrapped in the numbness that was all too familiar, and yet all too distant. The insatiable longing accompanied him on the final stretch of his fall from grace.
Color intensified once again, as he passed through the mortal realm, the opposite of the heavens. Here, colors appeared even more so, brimming with emotions rather than mere splendor, swirling in a symphony of chaotic beauty.
Though, amidst this vivid chaos, he felt a kinship of sorts, for within this maelstrom of his withering existence, he found himself forming a coalesced desire for more... of wanting, no, deserving, no, demanding… more.
With the final embrace of the abyss drawing him near, Lucian surrendered to the uncertainty of his fate.
Feeling the beauty amidst the disarray of his emotions and split fragments, he glimpsed at his own truth—as a luminous, yet dimmed soul, filled with corruption and desire, forever seeking harmony amidst the captivating disarray of existence. All he ever wanted was to carve out a piece of his own in this tumultuous universe.
And so, as he felt his mind, and hence, his soul, finally breaking for good, torn between realms and entrapped in a never-relenting darkness, he hung onto his final wish and willed his desires. Hoping to discover his role and place, and his own truth amid the many realms, and the many powers.
With a blinding light, knowing it was his end, the last glimpse Lucian had was a loving smile peering down above him.
Her eyes, mirroring pools of shimmering amethyst, overflowed with tenderness and adoration. While her polished skin, a cool gray like a dawn-tinged sky, glistened in the flickering light.
In that fleeting moment, the young man felt an inexplicable connection—a sense he had always longed for.
The warmth of her maternal love enveloped him much more than any celestial radiance could, filling his shattered soul with his first true glimpse of… love.
But that fleeting embrace of love lasted but a second… as he felt his mind being ripped away, consumed as his soul had been, by the voracious darkness that lurked within. Lucian's soul, spread throughout the abyss, plunged further into darkness…
Lucian's identity was being swallowed whole, lost to the chasm of eternal night… yet he desperately fought to remain!
Lucian was fully immersed in the warmth, experiencing what he had always longed for… and yet, in a cruel twist of fate, that euphoria of love was poignantly and ironically, mercilessly ripped away as Lucian became Felrith.
In that heart-wrenching moment of rebirth, the shattered remnants of his soul and true identity were left adrift into darkness.
With an even worse fate than before, for now he had a taste of love and loss intermingled in a haunting melody that would forever linger; until there, in the void, he became like all the others. A mere echo, and a whisper of what he once was, lost in an eternal sea of nothingness.
Lucian died, experiencing what he had always longed for.
In his first and… final breath…
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THE START OF VOLUME 1 – PATH TO REDEMPTION
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A/N: Hah! Let's begin!
- Spatial Devil, The Author.