Echoes of Ceotir

“You trapped me here, and I can't leave unless I take you with me?”

“That appears to be the sanctuary’s decision.”

“You’re still pretending you have no control in this.”

“I do not control the sanctuary, it belongs to itself but, it does favour me.”

He was angry; not just at the spirit or the sanctuary but at himself for not listening to the others, for not listening to that part of him that told him this was a mistake. But now trapped, he had to face reality, the sanctuary wasn't listening to him and there were no other ways out.

“Why does it want me to take you, isn’t its purpose to protect you?”

“That is the reason—so that I may continue to exist.”

“So it can’t stop the guardians or the miasma?”

“I cannot say, but it appears they have penetrated the sanctuary and so it must now take action.”

“What other action is there beyond forcing me to take you.”

“It will destroy itself.”

He hesitated, surprised at the statement. He was about to respond but then another shriek came from above. It was louder than before and a wave of miasma flooded the circular base of the tower. Then there was a loud bang and what looked like black glass crashed down around him. He ducked instinctively and held his free hand above his head but nothing struck the central pedestal. He couldn't tell where it came from or what was happening above him but that only made him more afraid.

“What happened?”

“I do not know, but you should hasten your decision.”

The pressure was overwhelming, the miasma was distorting everything around him, and he was struggling to keep his mind clear. The sanctuary in all its power and unfairness was forcing him into this contract. But there were no other options, there was nothing else he could think to do to get out of this situation. It was either take on the spirit or die here in any number of ways now or soon after.

“If I take you with me, will the sanctuary let me out?”

“That is for the sanctuary to decide, though I suspect that it will listen to us together.”

Another pause, hesitation, he didn't want to do it but he was backed into a corner. His body was shaking as the conflict within him worsened, “fine, I accept, what do I need t—”

Plunged into darkness, floating within the nothingness, he was no longer in the sanctuary but in the same space he had dreamed of. The green flame of the spirit billowed as tall as he stood, radiating a presence that wasn't there before.

He looked down at himself but where his body should have been there was nothing but a light, a pale blue shimmer that was almost white, radiated from him. It was his own soul, his own spirit which he understood without understanding why he knew it nor why it took the shape and form of this light.

The green flame flickered and moved towards him. There was a sound like a heartbeat resonating out of sequence from another which he soon realised was his own. As the spirit got closer, he could feel the presence, not as the touch of another but a closeness, a weight in the air, the space between them.

The sound of that second heartbeat got louder, almost drowning out his own and his thoughts felt an intrusion of another. There was a prodding, probing sensation, as though someone was looking inside his mind and trying to dig through his memories.

It felt wrong, uncomfortable, he didn't like it and wanted it to stop so he tried to push it back, to reject it, fight it but he didn't know how. He felt a sudden convulsion, an attack at his thought of rejection with a command to stop and let it in.

He tried to yell, to tell it to stop, but he had no body to make such a sound. But the intention was there and with it, the thought pushed back—he could feel the spirit retract. He understood what it was trying to do; it wanted to steal his mind, to take his body from him, to devour his soul. He would fight it, he had to fight it.

A battle raged on between his soul and the spirit. Soon it moved from thought and intention to his memories that started to appear around him. Scenes of his past danced through the darkness, filling the void of the abyss with vague re-enactments. But as each moment appeared and broke apart he could feel himself get weaker. It was winning; it was taking over his mind, taking over his soul and he felt as though there was nothing he could do to stop it.

A memory of the guardians, those giant birds of terror flew through the abyss above. He felt the pressure of the miasma, reminded of the experience it gave, the feeling of losing himself and the dulling of his emotions. This spirit was doing the same, trying to destroy him by pulling apart his core and taking it onto itself.

But with that realisation came another, the spirit had spoken over the protection the body gave. Stability was the key; remembering himself, and understanding who and what he was, his stability would save him.

The abyss around them was spinning as more memories filled it. That’s what it was doing, attacking his memories, trying to destroy them, to take them on for itself so that he would forget who he was. It was trying to make him weaker so that it could be stronger.

A new image appeared beside them; his kitchen table, Keira, he and his father were all sitting around it eating dinner. They were happy and laughing, they were young and there was cake, a birthday, his birthday, no—his fathers and Keira had made it for him.

His anger only grew; this spirit was trying to take his memories from him, those happy moments in time, it was trying to steal them. He didn't want it to happen, he hated the spirit for what it was doing but he couldn't think how to stop it beyond focusing on remembering. But even as he tried to fight the spirit wasn't ready to give up and it searched for a new memory to break him.

There wasn't a visual representation, not a scene that was re-enacted but instead, he felt the memory, the pain and fear that came from his experience with the guardians. The weight of the miasma, the horror when the bird shrieked through the doorway and the terror of the one clawing at the roof above. All of those memories and fears were flooding him at once, it was overwhelming.

Another memory, a time he had cut himself, and then another when he fell from his bike. The physical pain of each added onto the other as the spirit dragged them from him so that he'd drown in agony. He couldn’t think of anything else, only pain filled his thoughts and soon he watched as memories flickered past him faster than ever before. He was losing again and with each memory lost and weakening of his mind he felt less able to fight the pain that enthralled him.

But then another feeling appeared; a warmth, a comforting sensation that wrapped itself over his body that wasn’t really there. The pain washed away and the flickering memories slowed to a stop.

The sound of the spirit's heart had grown strong and loud but now alongside his own, there was another. It pulsed in harmony and filled the void of his own to overtake that of the spirit which tried to steal his form. A light appeared behind him, a deep blue that engulfed the abyss and brought a calmness to fill his thoughts.

Then he felt another emotion that was not his own, but the spirit’s—fear. This new light, this other form that enveloped them both scared it but all he felt was comfort and peace. He could feel the spirit pull back, but there was nowhere for it to go and soon the blue light doused it as water would fire.

New images appeared around them, new scenes of memories but none he recognised. He knew what they were, he knew where they came from because they were now so interwoven he could feel them as much as anything else. The spirit was under attack and now it was experiencing the same pain he had.

The spirit's memories were being passed around him, broken down as his were and with each one he could feel it weaken. It was as though the form that protected him chose specific memories, key scenes to play out around him. He learned the truth of where the spirit came from and what the sanctuary was.

It wasn't a sanctuary, not a place to protect others but a gateway between his world and the spiritual. The green flame, the spirit that had tried to devour him, was the keeper of the gateway, a man, not someone from the spirit world but one of the Ancients. His soul remained preserved within the structure, drawing upon the spirit world to sustain it. And it was he who released the guardians, calling upon them from the other world so they’d manifest in his.

He could feel the desire from the other spirit, the desperate want to have a physical body again and the hatred and anger it was directing towards this other form that was now pushing it back. He saw images he could not recognise; scenes of a world that no longer existed, a world before the corruption, before the miasma where the Ancients lived and ruled.

But images flew beyond him—feelings, emotions, senses and experiences all overwhelmed him so that he couldn’t keep track as the spirit that was now under attack was being torn apart.

Any hint of the green flame was gone and only the deep blue and his own light remained. He felt no fear, no concern over the other form that wrapped itself around him as a loving parent might embrace their child. An embrace from its core to his own that only contained love and care. With those final emotions and thoughts left behind, the deep blue light faded and disappeared, leaving one last memory to play out before him in the abyss.

It was a memory of his own. A moment he had all but forgotten. The morning of the attack from nine years ago, the morning that they woke without knowing what was going to happen. The morning before his life got turned upside down and he lost his sister, but in that morning and in that scene she was standing there.

They had eaten breakfast and were preparing to leave for school but she had come into his room. She ran up to him, grabbed his shirt with a tug so that he’d turn around and then she leapt into his arms and wouldn’t let go. He was watching the scene as though a silent observer, a ghost that floated above it all and seeing her in that moment made him happy.

“What are you doing?” The memory version of him asked her.

“Hugging you.”

“Why, what are you up to?”

“I wanted to.”

“You’re so weird, come on we have to go.”

“I love you.”

“Seriously, what’s got into you?”

“Say it back.”

“Uh, fine, I love you too.”

“I’ll miss you.”

“We’re just going to school, what's going on?”

“It might be a long time but one day we’ll see each other again.”

“Okay enough with the dramatics, we’re going to be late.”

He pushed her off himself and grabbed his bag, her eyes seemed almost teary. The memory of himself shook his head at the sight of his sister and then walked to the door, but before he could leave, his sister spoke once more…

“Don’t be afraid, they won’t hurt you.”

And then the scene faded but before he could even think about what he had seen. The abyss of blackness that surrounded him vanished as he blinked his eyes open to see the so-called sanctuary once again.

The building was crumbling, falling apart around him with glass-like shards that shattered the stone floor causing it to fracture in a similar manner. The ground was shaking, the pedestal toppled and he almost fell with it. Stumbling, he managed to get to his feet as he tried to understand what was going on. His mind was still struggling from the attack it had endured as he got used to being back in his body again.

Run, leave.

It had become familiar now; the thought that bubbled to the surface without warning, the one he ignored but he wasn't going to make that same mistake. He ran down the steps as more of the building shook itself loose and fell to the ground around him. In a second, he pressed both hands against the wall and with all his might and desire he could muster, shouted...

“Please, let me leave!”

Nothing again, just as cold, just as silent as it had been before. He dropped his head, hands still pressed to the wall, feeling defeated by the building that would not listen. But then another thought pushed through the despair from the same place that demanded he leave and this time commanded he be free.

Open.

A light appeared, pulsing away from his hands and head that touched the wall as it had before. This light wasn’t green but a deep blue that resonated with such brilliance it was almost blinding. And with that light came the same sensation he was hoping for, the feeling of falling before snapping back to reality on the other side.

But even with the freedom that tunnel gave him he couldn't stop as the whole mountain was shaking. He ran, not knowing if he could even find safety with the tunnel and mountain shuddering under the structure's destruction. But he kept running for as long as the rumbling continued, and the rocks fell around him he would not stop.

There was a loud crash behind him, the sound of a giant rockslide and dust exploded through the tunnel. He fell to the ground and covered his head but it was over. The shaking had stopped and he remained lying on the ground, coughing from the dust that filled the tunnel. He forced himself up—he had already gotten far and it wasn't much further that he had to run to be free of the dust cloud that was settling.

Once free from the dense air of dust, as the lights that ran along the tunnel flickered back to life after being cut off from the collapse, he could breathe again. He fell to the ground and looked down at his body, he had a few scratches from falling debris but nothing serious and at last, he could stop and rest. He had made it, escaped the spirit, escaped the building and he was alive.

He sat there for a long time recovering without thinking about anything as the events settled over him. The spirit had attacked him; tried to steal his mind and body, but something within him, something deep down came out and saved him. He wasn't sure where it came from or what part of him it hid within but he was thankful to be himself again.

Then his mind drifted to that final scene, the last memory that played out before he was free. One he had long forgotten about from the horror that the same day became, the same day he lost her to the demons that attacked them. He thought about his sister and that strange farewell when it finally hit him...

“She knew they were coming.”