The Valley

The Journey of Mercy

In the blink of an eye they were there. There was a sense of rejection they couldn't shake. The land had once been lush but it faded as they kept walking.
They didn't know how long they been here. They didn't know how long it was since the valley went dry. Anytime they tried to mark the days—it would be gone in a matter of a day. And the sky would turn against them—nightmarish shapes appeared. The shapes taunted and tortured them. It had been going on since they made them way to an empty table and the river dried up too.
They didn't know much besides the fact they were dead and this wasn't where they thought they would end up.
What they thought was the fourth time they'd cried that day, they got on their knees.
"Mercy. Mercy on my soul," they whimpered. They weren't sure if they could be heard, but as long as they thought they had been doing this there had been no relief.
None.
Constant torture of their mind and the shapes in the sky turned their stomach sick. How much more will this keep going, was something that came across their mind multiple times. And while they was alone, they felt the presence of something, someone, no matter where they walked in the wasteland. Was it good or bad? They didn't know and wasn't sure if the state of their mind could handle such information.
They felt as though the wasteland had taken so much from them. They were tired and wanted rest. But there was no sleep in this place. Weary and weak, but there were times when they fell on the dirt ground.
This was one of those times—after they plead for mercy, they found themselves on their feet and moving in a unknown direction. They didn't know where they were going, but they just kept going.
They kept their head down as they walked  around, doing their best  to avoid the scary sky. They closed their eyes from the sheer exhaustion. But the bottom of their feet felt something they hadn't felt in a long time. Grass. Warmth filled them.
They fell to their knees once more and gathered their hands, fingers interlacing each other.
It seemed like goodness and the mercy they pleaded for. The wind blew hard, but gentle against their skin, and they looked up. While the sky was still showed those shapes they would rather not see, but it didn't scare them anymore. Their eyes traced over the new lushness. And there in front of them was a sheep's wool close and a staff. They knew it would guide them, comfort and strengthen them, because their journey was not over.