Invisible wheezy voices shrieked, and the hands of death shrank, dissolving. She tried to cry out, to beg death to take her, but a puff of icy smoke wafted from her lips.
Inky black tar slithered in from the crack. Something darker than night—darker than death. The vines coiled away from it, clinging to the edges of the shining splintered crack. Kora hurried, floating through the void. Gradually, the darkness faded to a hazy mist, speckled with floating ash. The cold no longer existed. Replaced by a numbness.
Sweet, numb relief.
The light of the crack began to fade.
As Kora drifted through the ashen void, her sensations dulled, and a thin, frayed cloth appeared. She floated through it, the fabric sweeping over her, until she was met with another. She floated through that. It was neither cold nor warm, nor light nor dark. It shimmered with . . .something, leaving a trail of sparks on her iced skin.
Layer after layer of fabric folded over her.
“It’s not your time, gifted one.”
She halted in the folds of the cloth. It was iridescent, shimmering from black to grey, tiny sparkles running through the weaves.
“Thanos.”
“Why are you so desperate to enter my realm?”
“I. . .”she hesitated, ashamed to tell the God of Death she’d simply hadenough.
“That’s not a reason to die.”
“Right . . . of course you can read my mind.”
Her fingers brushed over the weaves of Thanos’ barrier. His grey cloth, held by his very own hands. Was he above somewhere, manipulating the fabric like a puppeteer? Those individual sparkles glimmered, consuming every possible thread, tiny little dots flittering about.
“They are all of my souls.”
She gasped, spinning around. Thanos’ barrier stretched endlessly, folds upon folds leading to the realm of Umbra, carrying all passed souls—and they were beautiful. She had read of this in Agatha’s tomes, she was in the Eternal Tryk. The passage for souls to enter the spirit realm of Umbra—just on the other side of Thanos’ cloth.
Passing through it was impossible for living souls. She should’ve been absorbed by now, blending into the fabric of realms, finding her eternal resting place in the afterlife . . . if she were truly dead. Instead, she was caught in the swaths of the glittering, heavenly weave.
Gods’ sake, she couldn’t even die properly.
Somewhere, in the endless Eternal Tryk, a familiar soul drifted past. A shining star, a twinkle in the dark of night. It rippled across the folds of the barrier, and a small warmth radiated from it. The scent of wooden ash and smoke permeated the atmosphere.
“Please . . .” Kora trembled. “I can’t.”
“It pains me to see you begging for death. You possess great power, now is not the time to waste it.”
“There’s nothing left for me. My life is destroyed.”
“Life is subjective. Do not complain because you have made mistakes.”
“Mistakes?”She swiped for the cloth, but simply passed through to the next fold. “So many of these souls are here because of me. I condemned them. I . . . killed them. I am a murderer. I do not deserve to even be here. But please . . . I can’t . . .”The urge to weep was overpowering, but frosted ice dusted her cheeks instead.
“Many have killed. And many will continue to do so. Do not bear the burden of the actions of others. I welcome all souls, regardless of their stain on the world. Death changes all.”
“Then please . . . take me.”
“All that happens, is because it was willed to do so. If you cannot enter my realm, then it is not willed.”
“Then will it! Make it so!”She’d had enough.
“Your time is not now. Someday, you will meet your end, at the hands of your own. I cannot let you enter. Your destiny is yet to be fulfilled.”
“What . . . what do you mean?”