Bound in Spirals

Chapter 22 - Wrath

——Sam——

He found himself climbing. Hand and foot, bound and unbound. He moved swiftly and smoothly, not bothering to look down. The gnarled bark under his fingers seemed to draw at him, urging him onward.

The haze over his mind, shrouding his emotions, combined with the post-battle dullness made the task seem easy. The only real thought he managed to form was a single question: How would he remember it this time, if Samson wasn't here?

Before he knew it, he was pulling himself up onto a branch. Spongy black moss depressed beneath his fatigued hands, and every breath burned his lungs. His body trembled with the exertion as he let himself be taken away...

——Samson——

Samson drifted. On, on, on... he drifted. Distantly, tiny stars glowed a variety of colors. The void was silent. Not silent like nighttime in the middle of a desert, but a vacuous, undeniable silence. Even his thoughts were silent.

How long had it been? His sense of time had been sucked away when his magic had been drained. His mind felt scattered and indistinct, a wisp of smoke in a tornado. 'I have a lot to tell Sam when I find my way back.' Yes... That was the key. Keep the goal in mind. Getting back to Sam...

Suddenly his vision was filled with the sight of an enormous tree. Power seemed to radiate from it with a density that blew at him and riffled the faint swirls of blue that made up the rest of his body. He was almost too late in realizing that he would float right past it. A single coiling blue wire stretched out from his finger tip, reaching desperately for the tree. Just a little further...

'Got it.' He quickly worked to pull himself closer, feeling the power buffeting his faint magic. 'Almost...'

He clutched the bark and immediately began climbing. The magical power was colossal, dwarfing even Sam's seemingly incomparable power and it took what felt like days to reach even the bottom branch. He fell deep into the glowing black moss, his consciousness falling away like a shadow in darkness.

——Sam——

Sam found himself awake a few moments later. He sat up, hearing no protest from his body. A soothing woody scent permeated the air. A quiet crackle reached his ears from the creeping purple vines. They unfurled into a doorway, horizontal on the broad branch. He rose, and stepped through.

A familiar hall, entirely of wood. More crawling vines lit the room with a white glow. Memory swirled around him, of the time before her death. He dismissed the voice weeping for logic's passing. He set aside the nostalgia for times when his biggest fear was of losing his mind, his biggest challenge only keeping from dying. It was a time long past. In this different place, was a different man.

A hint of pine sap wafted in the air, and she was suddenly before him. "Good evening, Samson. Welcome." The tree smiled at him, her red hair fluttering lightly as she stepped up to him.

He nodded to her, and she took him by the hand. Her soft child's fingers clasped his, crusted blood flaking off. She led him past the carvings and into a long, narrow hallway. She pulled him onward, for miles and miles, before finally coming to a stop in front of a tall, unremarkable door.

"Here," She said, opening the door for him.

He stepped through, eyes immediately drawn to the wide desk stretched before him.

"He's back again?" The voice was reedy, but clearly that of a boy.

"He is." She replied, urging Sam forward. "How many times is that now?"