A Conversation

Aromatic smoke wafted up from several ornate jars of incense, in a room gently lit by a single brazier. The space was vacant, decorated only by a woven straw rug, upon which sat a man, eyes shut gently in meditation. Upon the wall in front of him was a mural of abstract, symmetrical shapes, orbiting a perfect circle in the center, whose blackness mirrored a white circle upon the forehead of the room’s occupant.

For years, Bodhir has been engaging in such meditation. It had begun when he came across ancient Saharin scrolls while trekking through the foothills of the Teeth of Nix. They described rituals undertaken by those nomads, by which they contacted entities beyond the comprehension of mere mortals. For this day, he had prepared more intensely than before, fasting an entire fortnight and purchasing exotic incense from far across the Trade Sea, which he had spent months saving for.

He sensed a small presence in the corner. “Hello?” he asked, and it seemed to tremble. “Do not fear, little one, I’m no threat. Perhaps you can help me. I wish to speak with something far greater and older than any mortal man has done before. I have been humbled by the order of the Universe, and I’d like to ask what it would like back from me, as I owe so much. Can you help?” But now, the presence grew, and the room began to lose tangibility.

“So, little tumor,” quaked a voice unfathomably cold and deep, “you presume to speak with ME?” The presence now permeated all reality around Bodhir. “You praise ME for the disease I have been cursed with! You DARE to ask MY guidance for your miserable existence?!” Bodhir was now aware of a slight tingling throughout his body. “I have always been aware of you, parasite! Ever since your birth, I have HATED you!” The tingling turned to burning, as if every fibre of Bodhir’s body were aflame. “Ever since your misbegotten kind woke from the ashes of MY victory, I have LOATHED you!” Bodhir screamed, as he watched his body break down, simultaneously rotting, burning, and melting. “Ever since the creation of your pathetic world, I have DESPISED you!” His screaming halted, as his lungs and throat failed, but still, he lived. “Now, rebellious flesh, return to ME, and in this way you can serve the Universe!” Bodhir saw the black circle on the wall, ringed with gnashing teeth and hate-filled eyes.

Then, Bodhir was no more, and his soul, drained and wretched, condemned to wander eternally.