Blasphemy: A Like Story

Chapter Eight

We were born into mist. It grew from the darkness in vines and tendrils, swimming through the inky void until the world was nothing but. We took shape in its belly and became whole. Unlike ourselves but the very essence of ourselves. The creak of wood and smell of the sea filled our senses. Boards of cedar righted our abstract feet.

Slowly the fog gave way and we found ourselves onboard the prow of a wooden ship. I cannot say what all I looked like, for I don't know, I can only speak of Hashut and Asmodeus. They were both beautiful as the dawn of creation, and yet they were terrible in their power. Opposites in nature. Hashut was the pure white and nearly bright as the sun. His features were blurry, yet I knew him without having to see him. I knew Asmodeus too though he was not black exactly but more the absence of light and color, like the emptiness we had just come from. His eyes glowed red casting a pale light on his nose and showing his face only slightly. Like a heartbeat, he pulsed with energy.

From what I could see, I wore robes as Hashut did, but I was, for some maddening reason, an off-white color and not nearly as bright.

Swept up in the beauty of the sprawling ocean, I moved to the front of the ship and peered over into the water. I felt the demon by my side, equally mesmerized. The sky was a pink haze and three moons shined down on us, the middle one wearing a ring around its center. Suddenly out of the depths a creature rose, as long as the ship, pale gray, and soft blue. Like a whale but with long wing-like fins along the whole length of its body. One great green eye blinked in the moonlight as it submerged itself, splashing us with cool water.

Red eyes looking suspiciously tearful, Asmodeus turned away from the sight of the creature and glared at Hashut for the remainder of the trip, which seemed to take forever yet no time at all.

As we approached shore, huge rocks jutted out from the bottom of the sea like snapped bones. The ship weaving through them with practiced efficiency. The shore was sandy with a great ridge of stone towering behind it. Columns of all colors danced across the beach. When the ship came to a stop, we climbed aboard a smaller boat which was lowered and drifted without aid towards the lights. I saw that they had features. They were souls. Human souls. And among them on occasion was the light-less spirit of a demon or the bright one of an angel. A happy, brown human soul waved to Hashut as we stepped off the boat. He did not return it.

"I will accompany you on your trip," he said.

"No need," said Asmodeus with diplomacy. "I'm sure we will be fine on our own, and you probably have something more important to do than follow us around."

"I can be here as well as there. Time and space is no hindrance to me. You need a guide through Mana and I will take you."

Asmodeus grabbed my arm and pulled me away. It burned where his hand rested.

"I don't trust him."

I laughed.

"He is an angel. A Spirit Walker. I think we can trust him." I said, then pulled my hurting arm out of his grip.

I saw Hashut looking at us. looking at us. I couldn't make out his expression, but his distaste was like a live wire snapping in the air.

"There are three realms of Mana," said the angel as we began to walk across the beach. "We are in The Feast now. I will take you through The Hunt and into The Haunt."

"Why is it called The Feast?" asked Asmodeus.

"A human spirit which passes from earth to Mana, enters The Feast when it believes itself worthy of reward. It is not salvation which brings them here, rather their own idea of what they have achieved in life thus deserve in the next. As it is with The Hunt and The Haunt. Though in those realms their sense of accomplishment is less. One who feels particularly guilty might find themselves in The Hunt. Whether they've anything to be guilty for is speculative. But here, people are happy and everything is plentiful."