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Darkness stretched into a vast expanse to which Xanthy delved without control. The sky had plunged into a deep blackness that belittled the shadows. There was no light, not even a small spark. Her fingers were brittle with cold; her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.
She couldn't move. Drifting. She was drifting without aim. Her eyes refused to register anything beyond the darkness as skies and oceans blended into one unfathomable landscape. Where was she?
Only her ears worked well but the things she heard weren't anything comforting or legible. Screams of torment rang through the darkness once...or was it twice? Someone laughed just like how Duke Baron from the Disfavoreds laughed when his sanity finally left him. Cries of regret, madness, and anger melded into a soulful dirge in Xanthy's ears, her heart swelling at the same time recoiling from it.
However, riding atop the waves of the noises were the whispers, the mutterings, and the chants. Voices overlapped each other, desperate to be heard by someone, anyone. As Xanthy drifted, she had no choice but to listen to the voices lament, retell, and admonish their lives outside this prison.
How long would it take before her voice joined the endless multitudes?
Something carried her around even when she was aware she wasn't doing anything. She couldn't even open her fist, couldn't even move her arms pressed to her sides.
Her memories were starting to get scrambled and hazy. Did she really get the chalice and drank from it? Where did she get the chalice? What was the chalice? Why did she drink from it?
Why was she here?
She drifted further without any destination in mind. There was no destination in a place like this. The voices howled; the emotions bled almost as dark as the air around her.
How long has it been? Days? Months? Years?
What was time? Why was she counting, even?
Xanthy's soul had turned cold long ago. The air choked life and her will to keep it. She should just give it up and surrender to the current. Let it carry her to the afterlife. Would this journey even lead her to the Land of Wonders, to Pidmena's realm?
Someone screamed in torment. The whispers rose along with it. The weeping howled. Voices, tons of voices, flooded Xanthy's ears—screaming, scratching, whining.
Xanthy sped forward, faster than the rate she had been going before. The voices blurred and blared in her ears. Her vision clouded; her ears bled. Too fast. Even the darkness screamed at her, the dark landscape pulsing and extending shadowy arms towards the light of her soul.
She tore through the nothingness and stopped. Just stopped.
She looked around, although her neck wouldn't let her swivel backwards. She didn't need to. It was all darkness, darkness, and some more darkness around.
