Han awoke in darkness. Awoke? No, instead, he had fallen into a black void.
“Hello?” he said, his voice echoing for what seemed like miles. No answer. “Hellooo?” he tried calling again. Still no answer.
What is this place? Han was frightened. His face no longer burned, yet that did not ease his mind. For some reason, he was calm. Strange, it feels like I know this place, like I have been here before.
“That’s because you have been here before,” a smooth voice slithered out. Han tried to locate the source of the voice, but there was nothing but complete darkness. “Welcome back, my faithless paladin knight,” a cackle echoed out this time, loud as thunderclaps. As the darkness swept away, a dim light shone overhead, revealing a figure dressed in a familiar set of robes.
Uldin! Huh? Why do I know that name? Han asked himself as he scoured his memories for the name. Uldin, Uldin, Uldin?
“A devil,” slipped from Han’s tongue. A look of shock plastered over his face as he realized Uldin’s true nature.
“Ding, ding, ding, ding, DONG! That’s right, you figured it out! How about a prize?” Uldin said, clapping in a childish mock. “Is it coming back yet?”
Han’s heart dropped. I remember… making a deal.
“Yup, yup, yup! That’s the one, go on then, narrate the rest for us!”
“Get out of my mind, Uldin! This wasn’t part of the agreement!”
“Au contraire, mon frère! I told you what our pact would imply: ‘you open your mind to change, and I would give your uncle’s sanity in exchange,’” he said, as if reciting a poem. “Then you signed your oath in blood, yada yada.”
“Y-you accursed devil, you tricked me!”
“Yuh-huh. Wasn’t all that hard to do. You, mortals, have such tiny brains, after all,” Uldin said as he demonstrated to Han by squeezing his index finger and thumb together.
Han felt an uncontrollable rage swelling in his core. Not so much rage at this foul devil, but rage at himself for conspiring with the evil he hated so. To break his sacred oath with the Gods, even for his beloved uncle, was unthinkable to him. “What’s happening to me! Why don’t I remember anything?” Han pleaded.
Uldin didn’t say anything for a long time. He stared into Han’s eyes, searching. Then, a large, ugly grin befitting the devil that he is spread across his face. “Soon, mon frère, you will be a mindless vessel. An empty husk for me to control,” he began to cackle once more as he saw Han’s broken figure again slump down. After quieting down, Uldin continued, his cackle now turned into a full-blown wheeze-fest; his eyeballs popped from his face, and his tongue ejected upwards as he strained from the intensity of his laughter.
Han did not respond. Instead, he sat with tears streaming down his face like a trickling waterfall.
“Ahem, excuse me,” Uldin said as he cleared his throat. “Now get out,” and with the flick of his hand, Han was thrown back.
It was nighttime when he opened his eyes, and he awoke on a familiar forest floor not too far from his house. As he began walking home, he pondered. It was strange; this scene felt oddly familiar to him, but unlike before, there was clarity. He could remember speaking with Uldin and the deal they made. He could remember the two years of desperation he felt as he searched for ways to save his uncle, the allure that desperation held for him, and why he had summoned Uldin in the first place.
Why can I remember now? It made him sick to his stomach. He didn’t want to remember. He didn’t want to think of his sins.
Darkness.
“Hear the monstrous roar,” a chilling whisper fell upon the wind. Han instinctively turned to face the source of the voice, but there was nobody there. “Kill those whom you love,” another voice whispered with a rasp. Again, he turned toward no one. A cacophony of voices swarmed all around from the trees to the dirt. They were crying out to him.
Frightened and confused, Han escaped from the road into the woods, but the voices followed. As he ran, trees came to life as branches flew toward him, scraping and cutting up his body. He kept running until he stumbled his way out of the woods.
By sheer coincidence, he somehow found himself in town. Gasping for breath, Han sat on the ground with his head in his hands–the voices louder than ever.
What’s going on? Is this what that devil meant? I’m scared.
“Am I going insane?” he asked himself as he rocked back and forth. “Uncle, help me.”
All at once, the whispering voices ceased, “Han-Dûl? What are you doing down there?” a woman asked. Hesitantly, Han looked up at the source of the voice. It was Meredith, the priest’s sister. Wait, Meredith! He jumped up, hugging her in a long embrace. He could remember, it was Meredith! “Oh my, uh, Han-Dûl, are you feeling alright?” she asked, comforting him.
Han felt so overwhelmed by joy that he could not control himself. He held on to her for an awkwardly long time. Never had he been so elated to hug someone; he was thrilled that he could recognize her.
Wait… Han held her at arm’s length and looked into her eyes. “Meredith, what did you call me just now?” he asked.
“I’m sorry?”
“Just now, what did you call me?”
“You mean your name? I called you Han-Dûl as always,” she said. But that was wrong; nobody calls him by his full name, ever. This was wrong, Han could feel it. Again, he put his head in his hands as he tried to escape this delirium.
Suddenly, Meredith cried out.
“Han-Dûl!” she screamed as her face began to contort and deform. He could not believe the sight before him: the woman’s skin wrinkled and expanded as her facial bones snapped and reconnected into changing directions. Meredith let out a blood-curdling cry as she was being uncontrollably disfigured.
Frightened, Han ran back to his home, leaving the maiden to her horrific transformation. All along the way, the voices resumed even louder than before. Buildings and roads began to sway while the sky turned blood red. The stimuli soon became too much for Han, who could not bear to suffer any more delusions. The last thing he needed was the pounding in his head to start back up.
Cracked sky in the darkness
Upon entering his home, Han found himself losing focus as he fell to his hands and knees. Wood walls began to peel back while windows started to crack. The voices were now shouting the same words over and over. “KILL THE ANCHOR!” Nothing let up. The pounding headaches became more ferocious, while the voices kept yelling back to one another.
Han finally let out a strained scream of his own. With full force, he slammed his head onto the polished hardwood floor. A sizable dark mark appeared on his forehead upon impact as blood streamed down to his chin. Yet the voices, headaches, and delusions persisted.
He let out another intense scream. “I know what is real! I know what is real! I know what is real! I know what is real! I know what is real!” he cried, slamming his head to the hardwood with each recitation.
“I know!” Light. “I know!” Darkness. “I know what is real!” Light. “I know what is real!” Darkness? “I know what is real!” Light?
“KILL THE ANCHOR!” the voices demanded again.
“WHAT IS THE ANCHOR?!” he pleaded back to the ceiling.
Everything went quiet and still. There was nothing but the sound of Han’s raspy breaths. Then, in fearsome unison, the voices collectively said, “SRAK-DÛL!”
The sheer intensity of the voices together knocked Han to his back in a fetal position.
Still curled in his ball, the voices began to peter out. “Srak… Dûl,” Han whispered to himself. “If I kill Srak-Dûl… I’ll be rid of this madness,” he muttered as he nodded his head slightly. When he got to his feet, Han hurried to his night table and equipped his baldric.
By the time he was out the door, he was too distracted to notice that the world around him had reverted to normal. The voices and headaches were gone, and the night sky had returned to its deep blue hue.