The Forgotten Descent - A Short Story

I. Admittance

The world had shrunk to a pinprick of sensation, and everything beyond was nothingness. Anodos noticed a field, full of a murmurous quiet. The tall grasses waved at him, painting the air with hushes. Above, the sun was a nebulous smudge, bathing the world in warmth and half-light. As Anodos involuntarily approached, he felt the threads of his existence fray, like a woven tunic coming undone, stitch by painstaking stitch.

Anodos could feel a shift in his senses, a feeling of being weighed down and weightless at the same time. The air was fragrant, not with the earthy scent of soil or the sweetness of blooming flowers that he had expected, but with an aroma he could only describe as life unbound.

Then he felt himself sink, as though plummeting into a pool of water, his physical form adapting into a balance measured by buoyancy. As his body disappeared into the invisible reservoir, a radiant sensation washed over him. It was not pain, nor was it comfort, but something at the threshold of both, like being born anew.

His body fell forward onto the grassy expanse, the threads of his existence finally becoming indistinguishable from the soil, the air, the distant sun. A wave of fatigue swept over him, and he lay there unconscious after intruding the world that previously laid before him.

Hours later, Anodos awoke, and it was as if he had emerged from a dream into another. The world that immersed him was a surreal harmony of colors. It was an expansive garden, vibrant with a lustrous beauty. It was as though nature herself had dreamt up this place. A shimmering maze of emerald hedges sprawled in every direction, each leaf shimmering as though kissed by morning dew. The grass beneath was a luscious expanse of jade, speckled with flowers that danced in hues of sapphire, topaz, and amethyst. The sky was a sea of gradient blue, stretching across the infinite, dotted sporadically with wisps of silvery cloud.

As his gaze outlined his surroundings he noticed in the heart of the garden, a gaping abyss rent the earth. It was a yawning chasm of darkness, an antithesis to the riotous colors around it. The abyss was at once terrifying and alluring, a monument of fear and fascination. He thought of what significance it must demand to be granted the interruption of beauty the garden provided.

More mysteries began to reveal themselves as spectral figures began to intercept his attention, like that of once humans, meandering through the elaborate pathways of the garden. They moved with an eerie grace, their forms fluctuating between solidity and transparency. They paid him no mind, their gazes distant, as if locked onto unseen horizons. Some would, without pause, stride towards the abyss and fall into its void; others would wander aimlessly, their presence phantasmal and forlorn.

Anodos attempted to reach out, to interact, but his hand passed through them as though they were mere apparitions.

"Am I a ghost among ghosts?" he wondered.

A feeling of despair threatened to rise within him, but instead, he found himself consumed by curiosity. He was an explorer in a realm unseen by mortal eyes, and there was so much to understand.

As he stood there, the enormity of his situation weighed on him. His reason of arrival unknown, and the normalcy of his new form was beyond the world he knew. Anodos traveled forward and stood at the edge of the abyss, peering into the darkness below him, thinking how his own existence felt just as enigmatic and unfathomable.

"Perhaps, I am in death," Anodos mused, "but assuredly, how would death know of such a gracious garden?"

Anodos stared closer into the throng of ghosts. Among the shades, two figures caught his attention in the distance. They seemed to emanate a distinct light, their forms more solid than the rest, yet not quite corporeal. They were as twin phantoms caught in a performance, distinct and inseparable. One masculine, one feminine, they stood out from the rest, mirroring the other, a divine ballet orchestrated by unseen hands.

Their performance was in constant replay, an act of tragic beauty. They met, they loved, they strayed, and then, separated away from the pearled altar in which they met. Yet, they were not aware of Anodos' presence. They continued their waltz, blind to his wide-eyed gaze, the spectacle of their ceaseless dance was as captivating as it was sorrowful, their forms entwined in an eternal embrace of joy and despair.

Driven by a sudden impulse, Anodos tried to move towards them, his body responding to a silent command that whispered from deep within his soul. He was compelled to touch them, to disrupt the infinite loop they seemed ensnared in, to offer comfort, understanding, or perhaps to seek the same.

However, as he approached, he was met with an invisible barrier that shimmered with iridescent fire. It rolled with radiant hues, a flaming barricade separating him from the couple. The heat was a palpable force against his skin, pushing him back, preventing his advance. He reached out, curiosity and frustration intermingling, only to retract his hand swiftly as the flames roared in defiance.

The flaming wall was impenetrable, its fiery blaze as much a part of this strange place as the grass, the sky, and the abyss. Each attempt to breach it was met with resistance, a resounding rebuke from the flames that kept the figures at bay.

Overwhelmed and aching from his futile attempts, Anodos finally surrendered. He withdrew, his gaze still riveted on the couple. Their performance continued, oblivious to his presence, his efforts, his silent pleas.

Just as the taste of resignation began to fill his senses, a new figure emerged from the garden. As Anodos turned, his eyes met those of the figure. For the first time since his arrival, he encountered a gaze as tangible as his own.

"I am Paci," the figure said, his voice resonating like a chord struck on a heavenly instrument. It was a sound that held eternity, a strum of a thousand lost songs, spun together into a melody that both soothed and intrigued.

Anodos drank in the sight of him. Paci stood as a beacon amidst the garden, the abyss, and the fiery wall. He was a masculine figure cloaked in twilight, the fading sunlight shimmered around him, casting an otherworldly glow that set him apart from the ghost-like inhabitants of this realm. His eyes held a depth that spoke of timelessness, of wisdom gathered from watching the ceaseless wanderings of spectres and the silent cry of the abyss.

Paci continued, "This is the Great Dene," and it was then, in Paci's presence, Anodos felt a gentle tug of hope. Here was someone who could see him, interact with him. It was a stark contrast to the impassive garden-dwellers and their obliviousness, to the relentless abyss, and to the unyielding flame. It was a moment of connection, a subtle shift in the unfolding of his surreal journey.

Finally, Anodos could only nod in response. The relief washing over him quickly boiled from the questions within him, eager to spill forth, yet something told him to be patient. "All in due time," the winds seemed to whisper.