Prabh slowly stirred, his senses coming to life one by one. This time, the sound that greeted him was not the ominous rasping of his own breath, but the soft chirping of birds and the distant rustling of leaves. His head still ached, but the pain was dull, manageable, like an echo of a bad dream. He felt warmth on his face and opened his eyes to a scene bathed in golden sunlight.
He lay in a small, simple room, the kind one might find in a medieval cottage. The walls were made of smooth, sun-baked stones, and a wooden ceiling supported by heavy beams loomed overhead. A single window let in the sunlight, its glass slightly frosted and framed by rough-hewn wooden shutters. The bed beneath him was soft, with a quilted blanket that smelled faintly of lavender.
Prabh's heart began to race as memories of the Onwenhka and his dark room flooded back. He bolted upright, his eyes darting around the room, trying to make sense of his new surroundings. He noticed a wooden door opposite the window, partially ajar, revealing a glimpse of a hallway beyond.
'Is this a dream?' he wondered, the fear gripping him momentarily. 'Or is he playing with my mind?'
Before he could get up, the door swung open fully, and a man stepped in. He was tall and broad-shouldered, eyes of a piercing shade of blue with rugged features softened by a kind expression. His clothes were simple but well-made, a tunic and trousers of earthy colors. Prabh gave a double take when he noticed a thin sword on his hip, which looked quite out of place.
"Ah, you're awake," the man said, his voice calm and reassuring. He approached Prabh with careful steps, as if not to startle him. "How are you feeling?"
Prabh's mind swirled with questions, but he managed to ask the most pressing one, "I am fine…..mostly. But Where am I? And who are you?"
The man pulled a stool close to the bed and sat down, his gaze steady and comforting. "My name is Eamon. You're safe now, in my room. I am sorry, I was too late, by the time I arrived Onwenhka already got you."
'So that wasn't a dream', Prabh frowned. "But you rescued me in the end, so you wasn't late."
Eamon's expression darkened slightly. "Onwenhka is a dangerous creature. He has been my charge for many years, and it is my duty to guard him and prevent his escape. When I found you, it was clear he had overstepped his bounds. You were unconscious, and Onwenhka had already taken what he wanted, so he allowed me to take you."
Prabh's heart pounded. "What do you mean he took what he wanted? What did he do to me? And wait, what do you mean he 'allowed' you? Aren't you his guard?"
Eamon sighed, running a hand through his thick, blond hair. "Onwenhka is strong. He wasn't in the beginning, but he has grown stronger. The prison that holds him cannot be broken with power, so my task is to stop any external interference and keep watch. But his prison has gaps, like bars of a regular cell, and he can reach through those bars. That's how he got hold of you—his prison is in the lake, and as your soul was leaving your body, he grabbed you."
Prabh leaned back against the headboard, trying to process everything. The sunlight streaming through the window warmed his skin, a stark contrast to the cold, oppressive darkness of Onwenhka's prison. "Why did he take me? What does he want?"
Eamon's eyes softened with understanding. "You are not his first victim; he has done this in the past as well. And he always does the same thing: he takes a piece of your soul."
Prabh's voice trembled with impatience. "But why?"
"Pieces of a soul are like magnets; they pull at each other, they want to be whole. Since he has a part of your soul, you will be dragged into this world, but your body is also connected to you, so you will keep bouncing between worlds. Your body's hold on your soul gets weaker while it sleeps, so you will be in your body while awake and here when you sleep."
"But what does he get out of it? Or is it just for amusement?"
"As I said, your soul will travel between worlds, and he wants to leave this world. He wants a ride on your soul. He will cross between worlds and then take over your body."
"Then why isn't he already free? He had me; he could have escaped. You said he allowed you to take me. Why?"
"You had just died, and your soul had a part torn out of it. Your connection to your body was really weak, and your body was also too weak. In simple words, he couldn't use you to escape yet. But next time he gets his hands on you, he will."
'This is insane,' Prabh thought, his mind racing. 'I am caught in some nightmarish cycle, Or it might be some final moment story, but it seems too real to be a dream.'
"So all I have to do is to stay away from him, If I never come close to him, then I am safe? That's it? It couldn't be that easy."
"It isn't, because you will come yourself. As long as he has your soul piece, you can't die. Your body can be destroyed, even your soul," he said, waving his hand over Prabh's form, "but a part of you will be alive in his possession. Your consciousness will live on as a broken piece, with no senses, until he destroys it."
Prabh stared at him with horror, his stomach twisting with dread. "But you can help me, right? Of course you can, he is your prisoner."
Eamon lowered his eyes and took a deep breath. When he looked up again, his face was a mask of sympathy. "I can't. He is too strong for me. The only way you can save yourself is either by defeating him or negotiating with him."
Prabh's eyes glinted with hope. "So if I gave him my body, he would let me die?" But as he spoke, he realized his mistake.
Eamon face suddenly hardened. "I cannot allow it; he is too dangerous to be free."
Prabh's voice took on a frantic tone. He looked at Eamon with pleading eyes. "But you are damning me to lifelong torture. Death was my only escape, and now he has taken even that from me. Please help me. Please. You must help me. There must be some way. There's always a way. Please, I am begging you." Prabh was crying by the end. He hadn't cried in years, considering himself too numb to cry. But maybe the prospect of eternal torture was enough to resurface those emotions.
Eamon surged forward and hugged Prabh. He held his trembling form as he cried, saying nothing, just making calming sounds, waiting for him to calm down. They stayed like that for some time.
When Prabh finally stopped crying, Eamon let go of him and returned to his stool. He remained silent for a few seconds, then with a voice barely louder than a whisper, he said, "I was one of his first victims, some two hundred years ago. My body is dead, so I couldn't offer him anything. I also tried to become stronger to defeat him, but I failed. So, I am stuck here. Believe me when I say I understand. I do, because that is my reality."
He grew silent for a few seconds, staring out of the window. Then he shook off whatever he was remembering and returned his gaze to Prabh. He spoke with a heavy voice, "But I couldn't let him escape. He is too dangerous. Your only option is to become stronger than him. Maybe you will succeed where I failed."
Prabh's throat was hoarse, but there was hope in him once again. "So, there's a way I can free myself? But how will I get stronger?"
Eamon nodded slowly. "You should look for the Binders, they might take you in if you are talented enough. They might even help you them-self."
"Who are the Binders?"
"They are the strongest magicians. There are eight of them. They are so strong that they could kill Onwenhka without breaking a sweat. I also tried to find them, but my body was destroyed before I could. They live on Earth, at the centre of civilizations. They each have a faction of magicians under them. That's all I know."
Prabh nodded with understanding. "So if I find them, I could join their faction and learn from them or ask them for help."
Eamon looked toward the window, where the sunlight was receding. He spoke, "You might wake up any moment, so let me give you some information. Firstly, do not return here unless you are ready, and thus we will not meet for some time as I cannot leave here. Secondly, you are here as a soul, and do not need sustenance to live, so you will have no need to eat, breathe, or toilet while you are here. And by here, I mean Htrea, a mirror of our world, or our world is the mirror one if you want to look at it that way. This world is filled with monsters, though it is like our world in many ways…."
Prabh couldn't hear the rest as he yanked back to his body. His senses were in in disarray for some time. Slowly they returned, and the first thing he noticed is the sharp pain in his stomach. He also noticed he was laying on his stomach, with a strand of grass brushing against his nose. He sneezed and that pulled on his stomach, intensifying the pain for a second. He rolled on his back and a moan escaped from his lips as a rock dung into his ass. He laid there for some time, listening to sound of gushing water. After few minutes, he slowly opens his eyes. The sun has set, and night has come. Some dirt has gotten into his eyes and mouth, so he laid there trying to clean his eyes, and spiting. Pushing with his hands, he sat up. He was so close to lake that he could touch water while sitting down. He must have rolled over as he was dying. He washed his face and cleaned his eyes with water.
With clear eyes he looked around, it was the day (or night) of full night, and night was clear, so the moon reflected on the clear surface of the lake, casting soft radiance around forest. When he tried to stand, he almost fell in lake as his legs were trembling. Crawling away from lake, he came up to tree and used it as support to stand. His legs were still trembling, and there was a long walk ahead of him, in night no less.