Overdue Meeting(part 2)

Michael stared blankly at the offered hand wondering how he should react. He didn't know her, he barely knew Death; matter of fact he had never met the guy... or woman. Yet here was a stranger claiming to be Death's firstborn as if it had to mean something to Michael. She was stunningly beautiful, her aura igniting emotions in Michael he didn't think he was capable of holding anymore, but the truth remained, she was a stranger and he was weary.

She had burged into his soul-scape without his invitation. First off, he didn't even think it was possible to invite someone into his void he did speculate about the possibility. He should have also considered the possibility of someone getting into his the same way he went into others. But that would mean they had to be affiliated in some way with death, no? He assumed there was another possible way but this was the most immediate and easy to accept.

From the woman's claims, she was affiliated with Death, which then explained how she made it into his soul-scape. He refused to believe he was right first guess. Since when was he that lucky, yet there she stood her charming visage enthralling Michael with her otherworldly beauty. He wanted to remain unfazed, he wanted to remain weary but something about her presence caused him to lower his guard slightly.

Conflicting emotions took hold of his heart and the void in response grew turbulent. Above them, thick clouds rolled and the surface took the semblance of a turbulent sea; tossing and rising. This change in atmosphere confused Michael even more snuffing out the turmoil that was broiling.

"It must be tiring. That madman let you walk this path uninformed. Poor thing. You needn't struggle alone from here henceforth child, unlike that brute, I care for your success." She said in the most soothing and reassuring tone Michael had heard in his stay in the Nether as she retracted her arm and paced around him towards his soul.

It was scary still that she managed to get into his soul-scape. Michael was still frozen in stunned silence, unsure how he should react to the intrusion. Should he believe her words, or should he continue to treat her as a foe? The latter was more favorable than the former, treating her like an enemy without having much confidence in his ability to fend her off was idiotic. He was not willing to sign himself up for a losing battle.

Still, he chose to be wary of her and at the same time accept the helping hand; gods knew he needed it. Putting up a tough act and wishing to survive was not enough to help him through the Nether; that was becoming painstakingly clear with each passing day. His desperation was leading him to incline to accepting her help, he didn't want to but what choice did he have?

"You realize it, don't you? The path you walk cannot be braved alone, you need support. With how green you are, I know you will make the right choice" She said as if she could read his thoughts. It caused his heart to race and a feeling of being naked and vulnerable to overcome him.

"Relax, I respect the privacy of your thoughts. If there is anything I need to know, I will ask."

Her attempts at reassuring him were not convincing. Michael was still weary of her, he was too skeptical to trust her just yet.

"By the gods", she said and sighed in exasperation like a mother to her child. "Here"

She placed her hand on Michael's shoulder causing him to flinch and try to shake himself off her grip.

"Relax", she tightened her grip and Michael felt his mind flood with thoughts or were they memories?

There were images of writings on pieces of parchment, voices speaking an alien language, and images of golden... runes floating before his eyes. It was knowledge of spells, he inferred that much after a few seconds of the information flood. Yet, he couldn't understand a single word or writing that was poured into his mind. He trained his focus and tried to pry open the mysterious writings to no avail.

After a few seconds of standing still, Galia let go of his shoulder and Michael remained there staring into nothingness his mind racing in an attempt to make sense of the information he had come in possession of. She stared at him puzzled, her head tilted slightly to the side wondering.

"You don't understand?"

Michael was about to retort, of course, he did not, but he stopped himself. His earlier assumptions rang true. The alien language had to be the language of the people of the Nether. However, how is it that he understood both Caster and this woman? They seemed to understand him too. He had merely assumed the possibility of this being an alien world, but there was also the chance that they were of the same world.

Her question made one of his assumptions truer.

"Is the spell that complex?" she added and it was Michael's turn to adopt a puzzled look. Wasn't she asking about him not understanding the language? Right, for her to ask that, she'd have to know he was not of their world, and that much was not evident at first glance. There was a possibility that Caster knew, but the madman would have spilled that nugget of information. Unless they were not acquainted like that.

"You know Caster?" he asked instead of responding to any of her earlier words. His mind was racing with questions and she claimed to be open to offering him answers.

"Why yes, I and he go way back," she responded her voice bubbly unsettling Michael. What was she happy about?

Amidst his pondering, as he decided what to ask next, the information he had gotten from the woman began to become clear. It was like it was being translated in real time in his mind. He saw the letters unravel and the spells make sense. The voice that cast the spell went from alien to familiar in a matter of seconds. It was baffling and intriguing at the same time. He was unsettled and dumbfounded, shocked even.

"What is happening to me?" he asked impulsively, his voice barely a whisper. It was rhetorical and the woman seemed to be aware of that, holding off on answering.

She, however, stared at Michael as if he were a lost child, her eyes painted with pity and a tinge of sadness for the young man. Michael was too taken by the spell in his head to notice her show of concern. Understanding it once the language went from alien to familiar was easy. It was a spell to inhibit any form of intrusion on his mind and subsequently his thoughts.

He didn't know how to feel about it. On the one hand, he had purposed to remain weary, on the other the woman's gesture went a long way to make him feel at ease about her presence. That was not to say that he was about to throw caution to the wind and trust her completely; that would be naive and stupid, but it did make him less apprehensive and weary of the intruder.