Of Balance and Consequence
Aug 23, 2012 4:39:11 GMT
Post by Yuri on Aug 23, 2012 4:39:11 GMT
"For some people, death...
...is only the beginning...
[/i]"[/size][/right][/div][style=font-family: Century Gothic; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify; padding: 5px; width: 450px]The silence was a deafening roar in his ears. Crouched upon the sparkling sands, Yuri's eyes wearily stared out into the open abyss of water before him, watching the waves lap absently at the shore like a woman's touch on the back of a man's shoulder. Their soothing sounds echoed in the silent expanse, magnifying; even the small waves sounded like distant thunder. He lowered his fingers into the colorless grains, letting them slide through his fingers as easily as the wind through the trees. His thoughts drifted, floating through his mind, devoid of content as they came and went like the waves of water flowing onto the shoreline. He took a deep breath, but felt no air enter his lungs, as if the entire world seemed almost artificial. He tried to think of why, but as the worries of his location surfaced, they simply...dissipated, leaving nothing but an emptiness of thought or desire.
Truth be told, he didn't even know how long he'd been there.
He stood, though he didn't quite know why, and decided to walk down the shoreline. The movement gave him some form of comfort, some form of purpose - though that, too, drifted away like leaves in a spring breeze. His feet were bare as he paced, feeling each hidden shell and pebble in the sand. His chest, also bare, felt the slightest breeze as it came from across the water, shifting his hair. Though it wasn't long enough to see all of it, the strands that lay hanging in front of his face were as colorless as the sand beneath him - a dull grey, devoid of the attachment that most physical things were grown accustomed to. The baggy shorts at his hips were only slightly darker, with the ocean's water darker still; they were the only variations of color for as far as he could see. Just like his concerns for himself, concerns for the world around him seemed to just melt away, joining the ocean in its everlasting movements up and down the coastline.
When he felt like stopping, he stopped, his arms hanging limply at his sides. He closed his eyes, but the darkness offered him nothing different; instead, all he saw was the same matter of emptiness that existed around him. He was a shell, nothing more.
As Yuri opened his eyes, a flicker of difference caught his attention.
He turned his head, his subconsciousness briefly showing itself as his motor functions seemed to gain temporary memory of themselves. His eyes squinted out into the ocean water, trying to locate the difference, the variation in his existence. It was far out, farther than he could see without concentrating. He put his hand over his eyes, then wondered why he did it; there was no sun in the sky.
"Looking for something, my boy?"
Yuri turned so suddenly to the sound of the voice that he fell backwards into the sand, his arms flailing wildly to catch himself. His heart skipped several beats; he put one hand to his chest, feeling it pump erratically. He'd gone for so long without feeling anything that the adrenaline that surged through his system hit him like a drug; he wanted more. His head whipped back and forth as he sat up. HIs life had spurred into action. "Who--?"
"The real question," the voice echoed again, "is 'Who are you?'"
The owner of the voice was an old man who looked to be no younger than seventy, though that bore no truth to his age at all. He was smiling at Yuri, his eyes glinting with evident mischief as they looked down at him from where he stood -
- ten yards out, on top of the ocean water.
The waves seemed to ripple around the old man, going around him as if he was as much a part of the world as everything else. In stark contrast to the world, however, was how colorful he was. Long, yellow robes flowed around his body, hanging loosely over the majority of his body as if they were poured over him like water. Brown, black, yellow and white designs accentuated the middle of his robes where one side met with the other as well as his cuffs, swirls and shapes melding together as if they were drawn there with a paintbrush. They fluttered on top of the water as well, sending ripples through the water with each movement the old man made. In his hands he held a long, wooden walking stick with notches all over the body, which he currently leaned on as if he relied on its support. His face was masked by a long white beard that seemed to cover the bottom half of his face, though thin and wispy as it hung down to the center of his chest. The upper half of his head was covered with a large hasa made of woven rice straw, barely resting above sharp brown eyes that betrayed centuries of wisdom behind them. Even his skin, though wrinkled, was a pale pink.
Yuri stood up slowly, unable to tear his gaze away from the color. It was a change; an inspiration that tugged at the back of his mind, spurring him to act, to investigate. At the same time, however, his brows furrowed at the old man's question. "I...don't remember."
The old man raised his head slightly, his grin fading into a small smile of knowing. "Ah...And why do you think that is?"
He had no response to that. His mind, as moved as it was by the colors, still offered nothing of importance. Yuri could only shake his head. "I don't know."
Nodding, the old man, he brought one hand to his beard, running his fingers through it thoughtfully. He raised it up, waving it at Yuri as if to beckon him. "Come, my boy. We have much to discuss."
Without thinking about it, Yuri took a step towards the old man, his body obeying words his mind could only argue against. In the span of a breath, he was standing next to the old man on top of the ocean's waves, left with more questions than answers. His eyes looked down, now that he was in control of his own body again. "How is this...even possible?"
A single finger raised up in the air as the old man smiled again. "Reality is irrelevant; perception is everything." The confused look Yuri gave him only seemed to make him smile all the more. His hand sunk into his robes and returned with a small pebble. "If I throw this into the water, will it sink, or float?"
Though Yuri's mind was of little use in important matters, it seemed to recall the answer to this. "It will sink."
The old man laughed, and tossed the pebble down in front of Yuri. Upon contact with the water's surface, it bounced once, twice, and then settled to a stop on top of a bubbling wave before being carted off towards the shore. He tried to think, to consider why its behavior was different, but could offer nothing in reply.
He turned to the old man as if to ask, but the old man's hand raised up to silence him before he began. "You think it will sink because your mind is fixed on what is reality - that stones sink in water." As if to emphasize his point, the old man pulled out another pebble. He dropped it into the water. The pebble broke the surface of the ocean's waves instantly, sinking down to the bottom.
Yuri stood silent, watching the pebble and listening to the old man as he continued. "Perception, however, changes everything. Peoples' heads are full of knowledge, facts, and beliefs, and most of it is false, yet they think it all true when in fact it is a lie. If it was true that everything sinks in water, for instance," his hand motioned up and down Yuri's body, "then how could you be standing here next to me?"
Yet again, he had no answer for the old man; honestly, he didn't understand the lesson, but couldn't argue the truth of the endpoint. Instead, he contented himself with looking around with new eyes. Compared to the old man, the world around him seemed...empty. "Where...am I?"
"Now that, my boy, is a better question." He moved his hand back onto his walking stick as he turned around, facing the ocean. "This land is called 'The Void'. It is one of many realms between life and death."
A momentary shock trembled through Yuri. He raised a hand, running it through his hair thoughtfully as he turned to face the old man. "Then if I am not alive...am I...dead?"
The old man looked over at him with those mischievous eyes. "Death is not the opposite of life, my boy," the old man responded with a smile, "but a part of it." He turned back to the ocean, returning a hand to his beard as he explained. "No, I'm afraid you're neither, though probably closer to the latter than the former, sadly."
Yuri frowned. "I don't...understand."
"The Void is a plane of existence where souls go when they're torn from their bodies, but it is not yet their time to go to the afterlife. It is rare, but not entirely unheard of." The old man tipped his stick towards Yuri. "Do you remember how you died, my boy?"
He tried to think back, but his memory was surrounded in fog. Everytime he tried to sift through it, it was as if it just got thicker, almost oppressing. He shook his head. "I...don't even remember my own name, let alone what happened to me."
The old man chuckled slightly, and nudged Yuri again. "From what I've gathered when I've watched over you, my boy, you will remember your name soon enough." He gave Yuri a reassuring smile. "Do not worry about the rest, though; life is in the future, not the past."
Yuri gave him a questioning look. "The future...?"
"The past can teach us, through experience, how to accomplish things in the future," the old man replied. "Comfort us with cherished memories. They provide the foundation of what has already been accomplished. But only the future holds life." His eyes turned to Yuri, far more serious now. "To live in the past is to embrace what is dead. To live life to its fullest, each day must be created anew."
The gears had started to run, now. "But how do I do that? I'm stuck in this place." He waved his arms around himself to emphasize his point. "As I have been for as long as I can remember."
With another laugh, the old man tapped him on the head with his walking stick, hard enough to make Yuri wince. "Perception, my boy...perception. Do you wonder why you can't seem to remember anything?"
"Yes, though I don't know why." He ran a hand through his hair. "I had assumed it was because of where I was, this...'Void' place."
The old man shook his head. "No, the mind, of all things, this place would have the least control of." He turned to Yuri. "When you were sent to this place, it was because of your own powers. They acted as a shield, preventing you from death in a life-threatening situation - but only just. It took all of your power, all of the darkness that was inside of you, to keep you alive. Darkness cannot create life by itself; it needs balance."
"I don't understand, though. What part of me wasn't in balance?"
"Everything, my boy! Don't you see?" He rapped Yuri in the head with the top of his walking stick. "If the darkness inside of you was awakened in dire need, where was the light? The balance?"
It seemed to make a little more sense. Yuri nodded, thinking, as he stared out into the water. "There wasn't, I guess." He turned to the old man, who seemed to have all the answers. "But why? Why only one half?" A startling realization came to him. "Am I...evil?"
The old man shook his head. "Don't worry about what might be...worry about what is. Right now, you are out of balance." He lifted his head up, sighing. "Bags. Time has run out."
The world suddenly started to flicker, as if it were a television that had suddenly gotten fuzzy. Yuri's frown increased on his face. "What's going on? What's happening?"
"It is time for you to go."
"Go? Go where?" His worry magnified tenfold. He reached out to the old man, but his arm passed directly through the man, as if he were made of naught but air. "What about the balance? What do I do?"
Smiling, the old man turned to Yuri, resting a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "Everything exists within us, my boy. Start your search there." His hand lowered, sliding off of Yuri's shoulder, and then gripped the walking stick, leaning on it for support. The old man stared into his eyes, wisom beyond his years echoing in the back of Yuri's mind as if the old man could peer into his very soul. He felt himself start to sink into the water, sliding backwards into the ocean. He tried to fight it, but his arms and legs refused to move; it was as if he were trapped in the hardest stone.
With pleading eyes, he looked to the old man for help, but was greeted with only a sad smile. "We will surely meet again, my boy...Your life is your own, now." His voice seemed to grow quieter, as if hearing it from a farther distance. The waves on the water's surface began to grow, becoming more violent. Yuri coughed as he inhaled a mouthful of water, shifting his focus from trying to get to the old man to simply trying to survive. A large wave loomed over him, causing him to look up. Briefly, he wondered if someone who wasn't alive could die again.
The last thing he heard before the darkness claimed him was the old man's voice echoing in the back of his mind.
"Rise up and live it."
Truth be told, he didn't even know how long he'd been there.
He stood, though he didn't quite know why, and decided to walk down the shoreline. The movement gave him some form of comfort, some form of purpose - though that, too, drifted away like leaves in a spring breeze. His feet were bare as he paced, feeling each hidden shell and pebble in the sand. His chest, also bare, felt the slightest breeze as it came from across the water, shifting his hair. Though it wasn't long enough to see all of it, the strands that lay hanging in front of his face were as colorless as the sand beneath him - a dull grey, devoid of the attachment that most physical things were grown accustomed to. The baggy shorts at his hips were only slightly darker, with the ocean's water darker still; they were the only variations of color for as far as he could see. Just like his concerns for himself, concerns for the world around him seemed to just melt away, joining the ocean in its everlasting movements up and down the coastline.
When he felt like stopping, he stopped, his arms hanging limply at his sides. He closed his eyes, but the darkness offered him nothing different; instead, all he saw was the same matter of emptiness that existed around him. He was a shell, nothing more.
As Yuri opened his eyes, a flicker of difference caught his attention.
He turned his head, his subconsciousness briefly showing itself as his motor functions seemed to gain temporary memory of themselves. His eyes squinted out into the ocean water, trying to locate the difference, the variation in his existence. It was far out, farther than he could see without concentrating. He put his hand over his eyes, then wondered why he did it; there was no sun in the sky.
"Looking for something, my boy?"
Yuri turned so suddenly to the sound of the voice that he fell backwards into the sand, his arms flailing wildly to catch himself. His heart skipped several beats; he put one hand to his chest, feeling it pump erratically. He'd gone for so long without feeling anything that the adrenaline that surged through his system hit him like a drug; he wanted more. His head whipped back and forth as he sat up. HIs life had spurred into action. "Who--?"
"The real question," the voice echoed again, "is 'Who are you?'"
The owner of the voice was an old man who looked to be no younger than seventy, though that bore no truth to his age at all. He was smiling at Yuri, his eyes glinting with evident mischief as they looked down at him from where he stood -
- ten yards out, on top of the ocean water.
The waves seemed to ripple around the old man, going around him as if he was as much a part of the world as everything else. In stark contrast to the world, however, was how colorful he was. Long, yellow robes flowed around his body, hanging loosely over the majority of his body as if they were poured over him like water. Brown, black, yellow and white designs accentuated the middle of his robes where one side met with the other as well as his cuffs, swirls and shapes melding together as if they were drawn there with a paintbrush. They fluttered on top of the water as well, sending ripples through the water with each movement the old man made. In his hands he held a long, wooden walking stick with notches all over the body, which he currently leaned on as if he relied on its support. His face was masked by a long white beard that seemed to cover the bottom half of his face, though thin and wispy as it hung down to the center of his chest. The upper half of his head was covered with a large hasa made of woven rice straw, barely resting above sharp brown eyes that betrayed centuries of wisdom behind them. Even his skin, though wrinkled, was a pale pink.
Yuri stood up slowly, unable to tear his gaze away from the color. It was a change; an inspiration that tugged at the back of his mind, spurring him to act, to investigate. At the same time, however, his brows furrowed at the old man's question. "I...don't remember."
The old man raised his head slightly, his grin fading into a small smile of knowing. "Ah...And why do you think that is?"
He had no response to that. His mind, as moved as it was by the colors, still offered nothing of importance. Yuri could only shake his head. "I don't know."
Nodding, the old man, he brought one hand to his beard, running his fingers through it thoughtfully. He raised it up, waving it at Yuri as if to beckon him. "Come, my boy. We have much to discuss."
Without thinking about it, Yuri took a step towards the old man, his body obeying words his mind could only argue against. In the span of a breath, he was standing next to the old man on top of the ocean's waves, left with more questions than answers. His eyes looked down, now that he was in control of his own body again. "How is this...even possible?"
A single finger raised up in the air as the old man smiled again. "Reality is irrelevant; perception is everything." The confused look Yuri gave him only seemed to make him smile all the more. His hand sunk into his robes and returned with a small pebble. "If I throw this into the water, will it sink, or float?"
Though Yuri's mind was of little use in important matters, it seemed to recall the answer to this. "It will sink."
The old man laughed, and tossed the pebble down in front of Yuri. Upon contact with the water's surface, it bounced once, twice, and then settled to a stop on top of a bubbling wave before being carted off towards the shore. He tried to think, to consider why its behavior was different, but could offer nothing in reply.
He turned to the old man as if to ask, but the old man's hand raised up to silence him before he began. "You think it will sink because your mind is fixed on what is reality - that stones sink in water." As if to emphasize his point, the old man pulled out another pebble. He dropped it into the water. The pebble broke the surface of the ocean's waves instantly, sinking down to the bottom.
Yuri stood silent, watching the pebble and listening to the old man as he continued. "Perception, however, changes everything. Peoples' heads are full of knowledge, facts, and beliefs, and most of it is false, yet they think it all true when in fact it is a lie. If it was true that everything sinks in water, for instance," his hand motioned up and down Yuri's body, "then how could you be standing here next to me?"
Yet again, he had no answer for the old man; honestly, he didn't understand the lesson, but couldn't argue the truth of the endpoint. Instead, he contented himself with looking around with new eyes. Compared to the old man, the world around him seemed...empty. "Where...am I?"
"Now that, my boy, is a better question." He moved his hand back onto his walking stick as he turned around, facing the ocean. "This land is called 'The Void'. It is one of many realms between life and death."
A momentary shock trembled through Yuri. He raised a hand, running it through his hair thoughtfully as he turned to face the old man. "Then if I am not alive...am I...dead?"
The old man looked over at him with those mischievous eyes. "Death is not the opposite of life, my boy," the old man responded with a smile, "but a part of it." He turned back to the ocean, returning a hand to his beard as he explained. "No, I'm afraid you're neither, though probably closer to the latter than the former, sadly."
Yuri frowned. "I don't...understand."
"The Void is a plane of existence where souls go when they're torn from their bodies, but it is not yet their time to go to the afterlife. It is rare, but not entirely unheard of." The old man tipped his stick towards Yuri. "Do you remember how you died, my boy?"
He tried to think back, but his memory was surrounded in fog. Everytime he tried to sift through it, it was as if it just got thicker, almost oppressing. He shook his head. "I...don't even remember my own name, let alone what happened to me."
The old man chuckled slightly, and nudged Yuri again. "From what I've gathered when I've watched over you, my boy, you will remember your name soon enough." He gave Yuri a reassuring smile. "Do not worry about the rest, though; life is in the future, not the past."
Yuri gave him a questioning look. "The future...?"
"The past can teach us, through experience, how to accomplish things in the future," the old man replied. "Comfort us with cherished memories. They provide the foundation of what has already been accomplished. But only the future holds life." His eyes turned to Yuri, far more serious now. "To live in the past is to embrace what is dead. To live life to its fullest, each day must be created anew."
The gears had started to run, now. "But how do I do that? I'm stuck in this place." He waved his arms around himself to emphasize his point. "As I have been for as long as I can remember."
With another laugh, the old man tapped him on the head with his walking stick, hard enough to make Yuri wince. "Perception, my boy...perception. Do you wonder why you can't seem to remember anything?"
"Yes, though I don't know why." He ran a hand through his hair. "I had assumed it was because of where I was, this...'Void' place."
The old man shook his head. "No, the mind, of all things, this place would have the least control of." He turned to Yuri. "When you were sent to this place, it was because of your own powers. They acted as a shield, preventing you from death in a life-threatening situation - but only just. It took all of your power, all of the darkness that was inside of you, to keep you alive. Darkness cannot create life by itself; it needs balance."
"I don't understand, though. What part of me wasn't in balance?"
"Everything, my boy! Don't you see?" He rapped Yuri in the head with the top of his walking stick. "If the darkness inside of you was awakened in dire need, where was the light? The balance?"
It seemed to make a little more sense. Yuri nodded, thinking, as he stared out into the water. "There wasn't, I guess." He turned to the old man, who seemed to have all the answers. "But why? Why only one half?" A startling realization came to him. "Am I...evil?"
The old man shook his head. "Don't worry about what might be...worry about what is. Right now, you are out of balance." He lifted his head up, sighing. "Bags. Time has run out."
The world suddenly started to flicker, as if it were a television that had suddenly gotten fuzzy. Yuri's frown increased on his face. "What's going on? What's happening?"
"It is time for you to go."
"Go? Go where?" His worry magnified tenfold. He reached out to the old man, but his arm passed directly through the man, as if he were made of naught but air. "What about the balance? What do I do?"
Smiling, the old man turned to Yuri, resting a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "Everything exists within us, my boy. Start your search there." His hand lowered, sliding off of Yuri's shoulder, and then gripped the walking stick, leaning on it for support. The old man stared into his eyes, wisom beyond his years echoing in the back of Yuri's mind as if the old man could peer into his very soul. He felt himself start to sink into the water, sliding backwards into the ocean. He tried to fight it, but his arms and legs refused to move; it was as if he were trapped in the hardest stone.
With pleading eyes, he looked to the old man for help, but was greeted with only a sad smile. "We will surely meet again, my boy...Your life is your own, now." His voice seemed to grow quieter, as if hearing it from a farther distance. The waves on the water's surface began to grow, becoming more violent. Yuri coughed as he inhaled a mouthful of water, shifting his focus from trying to get to the old man to simply trying to survive. A large wave loomed over him, causing him to look up. Briefly, he wondered if someone who wasn't alive could die again.
The last thing he heard before the darkness claimed him was the old man's voice echoing in the back of his mind.
"Rise up and live it."