Chapter V: Of things best forgotten.

Joshua was stunned for a second; his body unable to comprehend the situation, his mind too weak to respond to the urgent cries of her voice.

Aen didn’t need much time, that precious seconds that Joshua gave him were enough to finish the incantation. Suddenly, Joshua found himself trapped in a circle. It was unlike anything he had seen, if this world was colorless, then the circle was made of the essence of void itself. No light seemed to penetrate it, even the slight ambient greyness, that seemed to be everywhere around him, was being devoured by this… lack of a circle.

Finally his instincts prevailed. As he tried to run away he found himself unable to pass over it. Terrorized he looked towards Aen who had already started chanting again. This time, there was something different on his tone. Like a malicious tune, it carried over to him, and sent a shiver to his spine. Its rhythmic tempo reminded him of some rituals he had once seen in a documentary about some tribes in Africa. A steady pace, like Aen was calling out to something, repeating the words till someone hears it…

Joshua didn’t know how much the chanting lasted. What he knew was that, afterwards, it left a clear mark at where Aen was standing. It was like a pulsating, violet beam that hurt his eyes when he looked at it. It seemed to resonate at a very low rate, some sort of unidentified sound kept pouring out. Joshua found himself kneeling to the ground; the simultaneous invasion on his eyes and ears was too much for him to bear.

Aen cast him a last look. It was a mixture of loathing and pity. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if he wanted something to tell, but in the end, he just vanished.

Joshua couldn’t bear the noise anymore, he cupped his ears in a vain attempt to seal it off, but it seemed like this… thing… resonated into his very being. Little by little, he felt himself give up. A little before he passed out, he thought that he saw a movement. But then, everything faded.

Aen was panting for breath. It took him some time to regain his full senses. The familiar surroundings helped him recover. He was standing in his small library in his basement, a self-made little haven for him to use. He reached with his hand towards the poorly drawn circle with various symbols embellished its surface. Many would have found it to look sinister, but, in his mind, it was synonymous with safety and protection.

Today it had been way too tiring for him. He had performed a shinning, a binding and a calling, all within mere minutes of each other. Despite his age, now nearing forty three years old, he thought that both his body and his spirit were in top shape. Today had made him feel like this was a lie.

Most spiritwalkers, a term he had made up to describe what he felt he was, wouldn’t be able to perform a single shinning without preparation. But he though himself much more experienced than those. He had walked those realms since he was a kid. He had studied the lore and he had been mentored by the spirits since then. He knew the importance of a healthy body, something that most youths seemed to neglect those days, and so, even in this age he continued to work up everyday. But today had put a great strain on him, something that wouldn’t have happened five years ago.

Aen slowly stood up and walked out of his basement. Tired as hell, he walked to his living room and sat on the couch to rest. Next to him lay the morning’s paper; on the front cover was a face known to him.

“Drug dealer shot down on gang war”

“And to think that someone as cursed as a drug dealer would be given another chance” he sighted. He almost saved this man today in the ghost world. At least now, his calling would bring in the shadows to devour him. “Someone who sells death to children shouldn’t be allowed to wander those realms…”

Aen took the paper and started to read again through the article. It was pretty clear for the police. A man was shot down in the street. When they investigated his apartment, it was full of drugs…

Yet something bothered him. The expression of the man wasn’t what he expected from a hardcore drug dealer. It looked more like a panicked animal. The way that the man tried to thank him, and the bewildered gaze when Aen told him that he knew him, didn’t fit. He realized he was just making excuses…

For thirty years he has walked that realm. For thirty years his sole purpose was to help those lost souls find their way out, guarding them from malicious entities, destroying them if they ever became haunting ghosts, shells of their former self. It was emotion that which has driven him today to break his code. It was simple instincts that made him want to get revenge.

As Aen rose he mumbled to himself “Instincts are for animals, people who tread the realms of the dead should be above that…”

He didn’t have enough strength to fight whatever might have gathered there. Actually he had little hope that he would still be alive, the shadows didn’t seem to have any problem bypassing his bindings. It was just the sense of duty; the need to see what he had caused, so that he would never repeat it again; that which drove him in the basement again.

Joshua was feeling like shit. Like a thousand rampart horses have trampled his body. He couldn’t pinpoint a specific place from which this pain originated; he couldn’t pinpoint a place where he didn’t hurt either…

He was standing in a dark alley alone. His throat was hoarse, like he had run out of air long ago, but continued screaming. His tired voice came out eventually.

“What happened? Where am I?” he asked.

A sigh of relief escaped his lips when he heard her calm voice responding. The presence still being there; protecting him; guiding him. “What do you mean where? Can’t you remember?”

His silence was enough for him. He was already too tired to speak; to answer such a question was pointless.

“Do you at least remember the man that trapped you?”

He nodded his head.

“Well, we were lucky he was somewhat incompetent. That trap that he had laid to prevent your leaving, was not perfect. You slammed and slammed on it, until eventually it broke. Some seconds later, the shadows arrived. And then you run, wildly, like there was no tomorrow. And this was good; because if you haven’t run like that, there wouldn’t have been any…”

“Who was he?”

“I don’t know specifically who… but he was a warlock. A despicable kind that has gained much power through torturing innocent spirits, like you, for knowledge. A man who has gained access to here through vile incantations that, no doubt, came along with a high cost. People like him are worse than shadows. Shadows do what they do because this is what they are. Warlocks do their thing out of malice, through diabolical treaties, and through stolen knowledge… next time you spot something that is neither a shadow nor another ghost here, run. It would be your worst nightmare to be captured by one of those…”

Joshua didn’t ask the question he so much wished to be answered. The hatred that leaked from the voice, when she spoke about this man, Aen, was overwhelming. Yet, what troubled him was why the man changed his opinion; why did he hate him so. Joshua was sure, that nothing he had ever done could provoke such deep emotions as the ones he saw on the man’s eyes. But he had clearly stated that he knew him, so this riddle left only one more answer, Aen didn’t hate him, he hated the entity that was the voice, an entity that this warlock somehow knew about…

Aen was stunned. He couldn’t comprehend what has happened. The calling has dispersed by now, this was normal. What wasn’t normal was the broken circle. What was even beyond that, he didn’t even want to think. As he looked at the tattered masses, that were once the bodies of several shadows, he felt a new emotion. For the first time since he was thirteen, he was frozen in absolute fear.