Chapter 1: After Death...

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“The Creator proclaimed, “Let there be life!” And lo, there was life. But with life, came death. For what He giveth, so does He taketh away. Rejoice, however, for what is death but us being returned to the Creator’s embrace? So weep not this day, and give praise to Him, that He may grant us peace in life and death.”

- Elyjah 7:11, The Holy Book of the Creator

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As soon as his eyes were shut, he felt an overwhelming sense of peace. It was an emotion new to him, as he had never had a day where he had felt at peace with himself. Being the most powerful being in his world, his responsibility to his people had been huge, which was extremely tiring mentally. His duty as the immortal protector of the Ely had kept him busy daily, and the many years of his life spent pondering on the reason of his existence had only added to his inner turmoil. The sense of peace flooding his consciousness also served to inform him that there was something after death. He wouldn’t be able to think otherwise, right?

“It was a good thing I kept out of Elyian politics, eh?” he thought to himself. Given his abnormal status, it had become customary for Elyian kings to approach him for advice whenever they took the throne. He had interfered a little closer to the start of their civilisation, but as the power of the king’s seat grew, the vaguer his advice had become. He did not want people to think he was influencing the ruling royalty unduly. His life would have been so much more troublesome if he had maintained close relations with the royal family, but perhaps they would have been more supportive of him. Oh well, it was too late for regrets.

He could only imagine the trouble the Elyian government was going through now, having to deal with the Gar’nashians as well as the aftermath of his death. He felt no pity for them however, considering they had been the ones who had supported his condemnation by the people. Now they would have to survive without his protection.

He was sure the Elyians would be fine though, should no other cultists come marching through dimensional rifts. The Elyians lived on the central continent of their world, in their country aptly called Elysium. It was huge, with an area of 15 million square kilometres. It was surrounded by water on all sides, and was abundant in all manner of resources, especially mana. Lush forests covered most of the continent, allowing the growth of all sorts of animal life, from little critters to huge magical beasts. Most were harmless, with a few exceptions. The fire-skinned toad, for example, had a poison that could kill a man from the very touch of its skin. Its victims would feel as if they were being burnt alive, or so they said. He hadn’t tried finding out, despite having lived nearly a thousand years.

While the Ely were physically weaker than the other races living in their world, they were more gifted in the field of magic, and with him around, the Ely had been the strongest military force in their world, which when coupled with the fact that it was not easy to invade via sea, made Elysium arguably the safest country from invasion. Perhaps now the tides would change, once the other countries caught wind of his death.

To the East lived the Dvem. They were shorter, dark-skinned people with muscular builds. They had little to no aptitude in magic, being unable to sense the mana in their surroundings. They had magi, though the few magi that they had held a lower status in society when compared to the other magically-gifted races. The Dvem worshipped technology. What they lacked in magic, they made up for it with sheer ingenuity. While others used earthen magicks to shape caves and move rocks, they used machinery and science to terraform whole areas to better suit their living conditions. They often had to do this, considering most of their territory was desert. Such differences in technology and magic often caused arguments, thus the Dvem had always maintained a mutually cautious relationship with the Ely. It was highly unlikely that relations between them would degrade to war anytime soon.

To the south-west were the Sorcerer States. They were a collection of human states where the use of magic was prevalent. Humans, in this world, were nearly as magically gifted as the Ely. They made up for the small difference in magical aptitude with a small increase in physical strength, though it hardly mattered since they were a more fertile race, and outnumbered the Ely at nearly twice their population size. The humans lived on the same continent as the beastmen tribes, and they had been at war for the longest time. Being occupied with such a war meant they didn’t have time for the other races, though they might take the chance to occupy Elyian lands should the Ely ever become weaker than them.

At the northern point of the western continent lived the beastmen tribes. They had all the traits of a human, but did not consider themselves as such. The beastmen had the power to call forth the wild, to allow themselves to shift partially into the beasts they had the most affinity with. A tortoise beastman could, for example, turn their skin into the shell of a tortoise, giving themselves the ultimate defence. Such primal magicks had earned them the ire of the humans, who looked down upon them and coveted their territory. Thus, the beastmen fought to defend themselves at first, but after all the years of war, the hatred had become mutual.

Lastly, the Naga ruled the northern seas. They were essentially snake people, with the ability to breathe underwater. Being the only race with such a trait, it was only natural that they took the waters as their home. The Naga lived in all waters of the world, but their capitol was in the north, so it was there that they were the most abundant. No one really knew of their military capability, since they maintained a strictly neutral stance and usually kept to themselves, only surfacing at the ports of other countries for trade.

He sighed remorsefully at he thought about his people once again. He bore them no hatred now, though he certainly did not love them as much as he did before. He did not blame his kin for their betrayal, and wished he could have done more to prevent such a calamity before he had died. Oh right, he was dead. Thoughts of remorse and regret gave way to curiosity and fear. He was dying to find out what was next, yet afraid of what could happen. Would he meet the Creator and find out the reason for his immortality? Did the Creator even exist?

Well, it was time to find out. Taking a deep, metaphorical breath, he opened his eyes.

“Eh?”

He was gazing upon himself. To be precise, he was gazing upon his dead, half-eaten corpse. “Wow, they really hate me, huh?” He thought, slightly amused to see himself being reduced to such a state. The Ely believed that a body had to be whole for the Creator to take them back into His embrace, thus such a burial was only reserved for criminals of the worst kind, where their bodies would be left in the deep forests for wild beasts. Perhaps the people felt that he had denied others from the arms of the Creator by tearing them into pieces during his rampage at his execution.

It was certainly a sad sight to behold. Where once lay the immaculate body of a hero, now lay the defiled corpse of a criminal. He stayed there for a long time, watching his body get devoured, both by wild beasts, and by the earth. It was a pity. He had been relatively good looking in the past; at 1.8 metres tall, he was the embodiment of hope to his people. Most Elyians were fair-skinned, and combined with their pointed ears and light coloured hair, they were a truly beautiful race. Even amongst such beauty, he had stood out from the rest of his kin – his skin was a deathly pale, and his hair had been of the purest white. Many had described it as looking upon an angel when they laid eyes on him. His looks were probably what earned him the Gar’nashian moniker of the White Death.

Soon, the last of remains had been swallowed by the earth, to be returned to nature to pave the way for new life, and for the first time since laying eyes upon his body, he looked around.

What he saw surprised him. Aside from the forest and wild beasts, he saw many… others. Little wisps of flame floating about in the air, just watching. The wisps formed a myriad of colours, some blue, some green, and others a more angry red. They were countless wisps, stretching into the distance as far as he could see. One of the smaller wisps floated towards him, a bright shade of yellow, and he could sense its curiosity. It bobbed around energetically, just like a little child.

A little child? “Ah… so that’s what they were.”

The wisps of flame were the souls of the dead. He was probably like them too, he thought. Peering into his consciousness, he tried to imagine how he looked like, and it came to him. A pure white flame. As he was in life, it seemed he was bound to stand out in death as well. As he continued observing his new form, he realised that it seemed to be changing in colour, and he watched on curiously. Little streaks of black began to appear, as if staining the purity of the white. It wasn’t immediately noticeable, but the white seemed to shine a little less brightly than before. He wondered what the significance of that was.

He was pulled back from the inner depths of his consciousness by the yellow wisp bumping into him, as if asking him to play. It began speeding off in a direction, before stopping and looking back at him, seemingly wanting him to follow. Willing himself forward, he followed the little yellow wisp. The crowd of wisps began to disperse as he moved in their direction, and a flood of emotions bombarded him. Some of the wisps radiated rage and anger, and others expressed their fear. They were probably the ones he had killed. There was also a hint of reverence toward him, though he could not pinpoint which of the wisps were feeding him that emotion.

“Seems I still have some fans,” he thought mirthfully.

For a few days he played with the yellow wisp, chasing it around as they played tag. The yellow wisp had been radiating happiness and joy the whole time, and the time he spent with it soothed his soul. Being immortal, the time he had spent alive barely held any importance to him, and it mattered less now that he was dead.

“Caught you!”

After having chased his new friend for a few hours, he had finally managed to catch up with it, bumping into it playfully. It seemed that there was no way for souls to directly communicate with each other, as far as he’d tried. All they could do was radiate what they felt, and hope the other party could understand their thoughts. This time, however, the yellow wisp did not react with joy, nor did it turn to chase him as it had done many times before. Instead, it seemed to be looking at something, and he could feel a strong sense of longing emanating from it.

He realised that they were now floating above a simple village on the outskirts of Elysium. Turning his gaze to follow that of his friend’s, he found that the little yellow wisp was looking at a young pregnant lady. Puzzled, he sent out a pulse of confusion, which was replied by… homesickness? As he tried to interpret its thoughts, it sent out another pulse of emotions; joy, accompanied by a small twinge of sadness. He recognised that emotion. It was trying to tell him that it had enjoyed the time spent with him, but had to go home now. It was trying to tell him farewell.

The yellow wisp then floated down toward the pregnant lady, and into her womb. It had found a new home, and now, it was his turn to watch.

He spent the next two decades watching the child grow. It – no, she – turned out to be wonderful kid, as energetic and curious as her soul had once been. He felt her pain when she fell down and grazed her knee, and was proud when she picked herself up without crying. He saw her excel in school, and witnessed her first love. He was there for the wedding, and his consciousness shed tears of joy, as a father would on his daughter’s wedding day.

Over the years, he had learnt much about souls and reincarnation. He took time to observe other souls as well, whenever the kid was sleeping or studying. Every soul had a home. They did not choose it; instead, the home called out to them. He saw when a woman gave birth to a stillborn child, and realised the cause. The home had called out to its child, and the child had not responded. He did not know why. The soul could have been lost, or perhaps there was some other sinister reason.

He also realised another important aspect of life and death. Souls could not be extinguished. As one life ends, another takes its place. Furthermore, a soul retained the knowledge of its past lives, but only in soul form. When they reincarnated, they would have no memory of their previous lives. The changing colour of a soul was caused by its experiences. The stronger the experience, the bigger the change. For example, a blue soul might have had sad experiences in its past lives, and would turn purple if it had led a wrathful life in its latest reincarnation. He had spotted no other white souls besides himself though, and it was often that he pondered his existence, as he had done many times when he was still living.

Now, he knew it was time to go. He felt the longing as well. The longing for home, for life. It tugged at him, and he searched throughout Elysium and its neighbouring countries, but he could not find it. He felt as if he was a lost child, longing for home but unable to find it.

Where was his home?