It was dark. It was not just a dark that hid light in the corners. No, the darkness was akin to be absent of life. It was the first thought he registered. He didn’t feel the crushing weight against his chest. He didn't realize something had rendered him immobile. Gone was the fact that something was suspending him, yet also threatening to nearly crush him. What would've been felt as cold and damp was completely numb to him. The smell of earth and still moisture would have been an obvious sign of something awry. He was aware of none of this. However, he did conceive a second thought. It was quiet. He was aware too well of the quietude. The silence was deafening. He knew three things at this moment. First, it was a darkness that eluded all light. Second, there was no sound. And lastly, he was truly alone.
As quick as these thoughts had come to him came a deafening boom. It left as soon as it came and he felt his body jolt upwards, if it had not been bared down by an unseen force. It came once again, a rhythmic thumping that echoed throughout him as he felt a hot sensation run along his body. His chest suddenly heaved upward, cold air rushing into his lungs. He struggled for air, as the weight that enveloped him barely prevented him the luxury of breathing, but it was enough. He continued to breathe in small amounts, as he felt the pressure around him loosen, bit by bit. It first started around his chest. He could draw deeper, cold, burning breaths. And in turn, the strength he felt he tried to move anything else that would move. His fingers twitched ever so slightly against the unseen force. The more his fingers twitched the more release he felt.
Soon he was balling and unclenching his fists. This led to the area around his wrists being reprieved of their bonds as well. The domino effect led to his forearms, his elbows, then his shoulders. He rolled his neck for the first time, causing the weight around him to shift. He was completely free of the crushing weight around his torso. He threw his legs, tossing and turning as he did, and at last, whatever had held him prisoner was no more. His senses washed over him like crashing waves. He was laying down and wherever he was, it was dark and cramped. He was enclosed in what seemed to be some gritty, loose substance. He struggled to claw his way upwards, feeling glowering warmth the more he kicked himself upwards. The silence gave way to his grunts, but soon that too was drowned out by incandescent chatter. He heard several murmuring voices, he listened to birds singing alarmed songs as he continued his climb.
In the backyard of Angela’s temple, in a seemingly normal garden, the ground was disturbed. It started small at first. A slight movement of the ground. The blades of grass shift ever so softly in response. However, as the man continued his climb underground, the patch of earth he rested beneath began to collapse onto itself. The dirt churned into itself creating what looked like a whirlpool of earth as the man fought himself closer to the surface. What was an ordinary day in Elisia turned into an unlikely sight as a hand breached the surface of the dirt. It sprawled wildly, pushing against the ground as the rest of the man rose from the hole in the ground. He was free around his shoulders, using his arms to push the rest of himself out of what had kept him imprisoned. He lay collapsed on the soft earth, surrounded by bird song and the aroma of in bloom flowers, feeling the bright overhead sun warm his body.
After what felt like an eternity the man pushed himself off the ground, standing up in the secluded garden, overwhelmed in sunlight. His golden hair that had once shined like the sun itself now dull, an almost greyish blonde. While it was once neatly trimmed and kept tidy, now spread abound in a tangled mess of tattered hair that hung down to his knees. The grey robes that adorned the man were sullen, and ripped. A weathered emblem of a woman resembling a rose rested along the back. The once feminine frame had now been thinned out to bare bones. He had no idea where he was, or what he was doing here. How he had arrived here was a mystery as well. A name drifted on his feminine lips, yet he could not speak it. He turned to face the hole he had crawled out of and read from a humble gravestone decorated by small bouquets of flowers.
“Here Lies Serci.”
