The death of John Smith.

As it would turn out, dying was the most important thing in my life. Of course, if I had known that at the time, maybe I would have been less reluctant to go.
Death had always been something on my mind, knowing that my days were numbered. Well, when you live in a land where death can come from your own brother, who came blame you.
It wasn't my brother that ended my life, however. It was my sister. And as she pushed her blade down through my heart, my mind was flooded with images of our life together. Running thru the fields of our farm together as children. Huddling together around a fire on the harsh cold nights of winter.
What could drive someone who threw out their whole life had been my protector, end up taking my life. But I knew the answer, as much as I would like to not. It was the sickness. Yes, as I looked up at her with my dying eyes, I could see it in her. Something not visible quote from the outside, but it was there. Like a rotten apple, you could mistake it for being a perfectly good snack.
During my life, I had seen so many people succumb to the sickness, some were friends, some were family. I thought that I knew what it was like to subjected to pain through other people. Well, the only time that I felt true pain for someone, it was the last thing I had felt.

After I died, I'm not fully sure what happened. It had been like sleeping, my body relaxing and mind closing down for the day. only this time it was for forever.
Maybe it had even been a bit inviting to my shutting down mind. If it was inviting, who could blame me for accepting? out my whole life, I have lived in a word of death pain and toil. Death would offer a break from all of these.
Only downside was I was dead.
I’m not sure if I even had a choice to keep fighting. I'm not sure if I was allowed to chose the time that I left the word. Maybe I did, but I think not. no…I was forced to leave by things beyond my control.
But before I knew it, I was in the abbess. My senses were numb and there was no light. I had never experienced complete silence before, but this was more intense than everything that I had imagined. At night, when I had lain in bed and thought I had seen darkness, I had only seen a fraction of the raw power that darkness could have on the mind and body.
Due to the darkness and the lack of any light, I wasn't sure if I still had a body or if I simply exist without one. Not that it mattered. In all my time alive, I never noticed the finer details of my senses. The fact that your skin always felt the air around you. That the air had both a taste and smell. The lack of it was intolerable at best like I was missing a part of myself that I had known for my whole life. I don't know how long I was there for. Time itself seemed to wrap around me and space was non-existent. Only now did I realize how my mind needed my senses to measure time. Without them, I had only my thoughts to go on and my thoughts were about as useful as a broken clock, that speed up and slowed down at random intervals.
So like I said before, I had no way of measuring the time I was adrift in limbo and so when I came out I didn't know how I should feel. Should I be relieved that my suffering was over or had I only been waiting for a couple of minutes? To this day I still don't know.
When my senses finally came back on, they returned one by one. First came sight. I can't remember if I opened my eyes, or if sight returned to eyes already open. With my sight returned, I examined my surroundings. They were unlike anything that I had seen before. If I tried to describe it to you, I most certainly would fail to capture the beauty that it possessed. It was like all the beauty of the sun and moon mixed together. Even now, the place amazes me in memory. The air contained more beauty than I would ever pose. Even in all my travels, I've had since that time, nothing has stayed in my mind so firmly as this place, that I don't even know the name for. Maybe it was simply the shook, but I doubt it. Something about the place seemed familiar, like a hiding hole from my childhood.
The next sense to return was me was my ears. The sounds were exotic, as if from a faraway land. As my hearing became better, I realized that it was music. I could make out a tune very quickly.
My other senses came back at unspecified times, with my mind not truly knowing when they did. But once they did, I found out where I was. Lying on a bench made from white stone, I found it was far more comfortable than any bed that I had ever slept in before despite the material. Moving might not have been the smartest idea, but I attempted it anyway. I found that my body was a lot less corpse-like than it should have been. Hell, my body was at the best that it had ever been. I was free from the constant ache that had been in my bones since I was a young boy. Taking the next step, I stood up, keeping my hand rested on the table as I did. As it would turn out, I had no need to do so. My legs were completely able to hold my own weight.
Just as I moved my hand away from the table, someone walked into the room. I hadn't even realized that there was a door there. In fact, I'm sure that there wasn't one until this man walked threw.
He was short, and not in a good way. He had all the mass of a taller man, only more concentrated. He wore brown robes, made from rough fabric that I imagined would be heavy to wear. They draped along the ground as the man walked towards me. When he got a couple of meters in front of me, he stopped.
I remember him looking me up and down like a collector might examine prices antique. I was half waiting for him to start measuring me with a ruler. But he didn't. Instead, he just spoke. Just from his voice, I could guess that he was well educated. His words felt crisp in the air as he spoke, with defined ends and characters.
“Name” He spoke as if it deserved the least amount of effort that this man could use. Me, on the other hand, was still reeling from my time in the abyss. My tongue was weak and stiff. My words came out as a jumble of letters and sound. I won't write it here, but I’m sure that you can imagine what it sounded like. The man obviously had better things to do. He let out a large sigh as I closed my mouth. He didn't feel the need to repeat himself, as he just waited for me to get ready to say my name.
“John Smith,” I said once my mind and tongue linked up. The man didn't say anything and just nodded his head. Somehow, I felt as if I had given the wrong answer.
“And you were killed by your sister, yes?” the man asked. My mind rebelled from the idea at first. Pushed it away, like it was a false fact. But I knew it was true. She had killed me, ending my time alive. Unable to speak, I simply nodded, hoping that it would satisfy the man. He didn't ask for more, so I guess it did. He took a step back, his body relaxing.
“Well, I’m finished here,” he said to me, turning around as he did.
“Follow me” he commanded over his shoulder to me. I got up and began to walk, testing my legs fully now. I was about to follow my guide out the door that wasn't there, but I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was firm and stopped me walking completely, despite the fact that it was only a single hand. I almost jumped as I looked to the corner of the room, were an unusual amount of shadows had gathered. They concealed the man there, making his outline hard to trace. Harder to trace still was his age. His face was timeless, with eyes that looked as if they had seen more than was possible in a lifetime, but his face was free of any signs of aging. His thin face was extremely pale, an unnatural sort of pale, which was contrasted by his hair and eyes. His hair was a midnight black porcupine and his eyes were whirlpools on an ocean of shadow. While it was hard to see anything about this stranger, I could tell that he was tall, extremely thin and not human. Around his body there was an aura of small specs of black dust or maybe sand, which just spiraled around his body, fading in and out of sight. I swung my shoulder, getting out of his grasp before turning completely around to face him. He made no move to stop me as I did. Instead, he just watched with his midnight eyes. My guide must have realized that I had stopped as I hired him to begin to talk from behind me.
“Excuse me,” he said in a voice much to prim for the situation “who are you and what are you doing here?”. The man in the corner just stood there, watching with interest. He raised a long pointed finger to his pale lips.
“Shush,” he said in a voice that seemed had a permit eco but was still soft as if from calling far away. I just watched, feeling like a piggy in the middle as these 2 strangers tried to stare each other down. Then the man in the corner spoke again.
“Tell death that I am keeping this one,” he said. Despite the fact that the man's voice was still soft, there was no doubt that this was a command. Then he lowered his hand from his lips, making a small gesture towards the other man. At the time I hadn’t realized what he was doing but would learn to recognize each of his gestures. When the other man didn't reply to that, I glanced behind me, to find he was gone. That left me with this new man. Who spoke in a quiet voice.
“John Smith, come with me”

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