The War of All Wars Page 21

  “Deal,” Losifer answered right away, while flying over next to the carpet, and extending his right hand out for Nemis to shake.

  As Nemis shook, she replied, “Deal.”

  Once the shaking of hands had stopped, Losifer did not release his grip, but instead snapped his fingers using his other hand—a mirror-like portal opened up on the other side of the carpet.

  A few seconds later, Nemis recognized the all-too-familiar elf woman stepping through that portal and onto the carpet—this had to be her mother! She even wore the same white robes as before.

  After a look of utter shock had crossed the mother’s youthful face upon seeing her daughter, for only a second, she forthwith threw her arms out before her, ran over, and cried out with joy, “Baby!”

  “Mom,” Nemis squealed before she released her grip on Losifer’s hand and accepted her mother’s hug—after all, it had been four hundred and seventy-five years since the two had last seen each other!

  The two began to warmly hug and hold each other only seconds later. Nearly twenty seconds passed before Gylva’stes pulled away from the hug and asked, “Honey…how on earth did you rescue me?”

  “Long story there, Mom. By the way…love,” Nemis said.

  “Struck,” her mother responded, answering the authentication without hesitation.

  “Yup—it’s really you, Mom!”

  “Yes it is really me—baby…so when can we go home?” Gylva’stes asked, just before she pulled away from the hug.

  “Soon, Mom. Just waiting on this here Arch-Devil to open us a portal back home…but Mom, there are a few important things you need to know right now.”

  “What, Baby?”

  “See my good friend there? His name is Baltor. He and I made a deal with each other to help both you and his friend out…he and I still need to help his friend out—that is, after I’ve dropped you off at home.”

  “Okay,” Gylva’stes answered most appreciatively, “that’s so good to know…nice to meet you Baltor! Thank you so very much for all your help.”

  After clearing his throat, Baltor said with a respectful nod, “Nice to meet you too, my Lady, and no problem.”

  The two shared a quick hug.

  “Mom,” Nemis said, “One more thing you need to know now…”

  “Yes?”

  Nemis answered, “After his friend is rescued, Arch-Devil Losifer and I have also made our own little arrangement, in exchange for your freedom—I’ve promised him one thousand years of servitude.”

  Looking and sounding shocked, Gylva’stes asked, “One thousand years…? Please honey, don’t give up your life for me. Losifer has actually treated me quite well since my arrival.”

  “Mom, I will get every last year back in the end…once it’s all over, you and I will most likely not see each other in life, but that’s okay. One thousand years is far better for me to sacrifice, as opposed to an eternity of you dwelling here. Nothing personal, Arch-Devil.”

  “None taken,” replied Losifer.

  “Tha—thank you, so much, Nemee,” her mother said in the next moment, while crying with tears of joy at what her daughter had sacrificed for her!

  “It’s okay, Mom…well, Arch-Devil, sir, ready to open the portal to my home-world?”

  Yes.

  With that, Losifer snapped his fingers—in the next moment, a see-through portal opened up. The terrain on the other side consisted of rolling prairies, interspaced with clusters of giant trees that possessed beautiful maple leaves bearing both green and red colors. Built onto the top of one of those thick clusters was a beautiful elfish-looking house, made entirely of wood—it looked as if the trees had voluntarily transformed themselves into this most-beautiful house!

  Hand in hand, mother and daughter walked through the portal, just before they made their way up to the front porch of the house—all the while, Baltor and Losifer silently remained in place.

  Nearly ten minutes later, after the two had shared a hug, kisses and tears on the front porch, Nemis alone came back—the portal shut in the next moment.

  Telepathically, Losifer next asked, Well…would the two of you like some information about the next Plane of Hell, as well its ruler Zebul? Free of charge…because, as you already know, I too believe that the Vompareus need to be stopped.

  Baltor answered, “We’re willing to listen to whatever you’re willing to tell us, your Lordship. Yes?”

  Losifer began, His name is Zebul. History books once depicted him “the lord of the flies,” but his powers have rapidly expanded and multiplied ever since…he is now known amongst the other Arch-Devils, “the master of nightmares,” which is literally the consistency of this hell…nightmares!

  After a ten-second pause without interruption, he continued, In other words, as soon as the two of you arrive on this inner-dimensional plane, you both will physically fall asleep, before your physical molecules will spread throughout the entire plane. All the while, your conscious minds will not only submerge into their subconscious states with amnesia I might add, whereupon you will begin your dream.

  Baltor was about to ask if that was all the devil had to say, but Losifer continued only three seconds later, Trust me, your physical bodies will be completely safe, unless the Arch-Devil or his powerful dream-demons discover either of you on their lords plane!

  Now, until one of your two conscious minds become aware that you are actually dreaming, which opportunity will occur, sooner or later, you will have little control over what happens in your dream, nor can you help the other person. Everybody dreams differently.

  Just ride it out as best you can…like that ole song goes, “Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream…merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream!”

  No longer singing, Losifer added, Sooner or later, you will become “consciously aware,” and you will regain your memories, and soon after that, you will have control beyond imagination…so I would strongly suggest that when the first one of you becomes conscious, remember to find and help your teammate.

  Together can you unite in your dream-states and overcome this “nightmarish hell” by locating his palace, locating his throne, pushing the green button on the left armrest, and escaping out the River Styx to the final plane of hell! I would advise you not to push the red button, or to fight Zebul…he’s very tough, especially with his armies that are always by his side.

  That’s all.

  “Okay, thanks, Arch-Devil Losifer,” Baltor said. He looked over at Nemis, extended his right hand out for her to take, and asked, “Ready to go?”

  “Yup,” she said, just before she took it.

  Hand in hand, the two headed toward the hole and jumped in—just after landing in the river, they heard Losifer say in their heads, Farewell….and Nemis, I’ll see you very soon.

  For the next two minutes or so (if time were to exist), they continued to ride down the river’s waterslide, still holding hands. Most unexpectedly for the both of them, the waterslide ended, transforming into “a waterfall surrounded by darkness!”

  As the two—still holding hands—continued to fall, and fall and fall through the pitch-black surroundings, the thick, gushing waters from the waterfall gradually transformed into raindrops, which soon after turned into a fine mist, which ultimately transformed into an impenetrable gray fog where they couldn’t see three feet away….

  All the while, Nemis kept her body facing upwards as she didn’t want to see what lay below and so she began to meditate—just to her side but facing downwards, was Baltor, as he wanted to see exactly what lay ahead, even though he couldn’t see a thing.

  Two hours after they had begun to fall, he finally asked aloud the question that had been looming on his mind, “I’ve got a question I must ask you—why didn’t you negotiate with that devil, Nemis?”

  “Umm,” she answered, “I don’t know. Why?”

  “If I were you,” he said, “I would have tried to barter—even if you had nothing else that that devil wanted, you shou
ld have tried to knock down the years of servitude. One thousand years is a very-very-very-very long time.”

  Now sounding upset, she stuttered, “Well, I—I guess I made a mistake! I just wanted my mother so bad. I’m sorry!”

  “You don’t have to apologize to me,” he replied nonchalantly nearly a minute later, “It’s your life.”

  For the first time ever, she threw him “a stark evil look!”

  After exhaling aloud and inhaling his breath just as deep, he said, “I’m sorry…I really wish there was something I could do, but I can’t—quote-unquote ‘a deal is a deal.’ I’ll tell you what, though…when you get done with all that—come look me up. All right?”

  At that, she sucked in own her breath deeply, before she replied with a hint of anger still in her voice, “We’ll see…”

  He smiled gently before he added, “It shouldn’t be so bad anyway…your mother didn’t look like she had been tortured or abused in any way, shape, or form. He probably just needs some good company to fill his boring day—not somebody forced to be there like a slave. Know what I mean?”

  He became quite surprised upon hearing her snap out angrily, “Well, neither my mother, nor I, exactly had ‘a choice’ in all this, which makes us both ‘slaves.’ After all, I spent just about my whole life looking for her…instead of spending my life on other important pursuits—love, prosperity and happiness! Had I known she was content, life wouldn’t have been anywhere as bad for me.”

  “Listen, Nemis,” Baltor was able to say calmly, because he forced himself to not get upset, “I’m sorry to hear that you had the life you did—but it’s not like I had a choice in my life either. I didn’t ask for my parents to get murdered, nor did I ask for this cursed immortality, with which I will not elaborate. Most especially, I did not ask to be here in any hell, but we got to make do with all the cards that Fate gives us, and make the most out of those cards. I got one more thing to say and then I’m going to shut up about this subject. Once the next thousand years are up, which will seem like a day in the end, you and your mother can spend the rest of eternity together, while you focus on all your other ‘important pursuits,’ including finding me and seeing if you and I would make a good couple. Know what I mean?”

  “Damn it, Baltor,” Nemis snapped, “A thousand years is a thousand years—there’s no way you can say that it’s going to feel like a day in the end…no freaking way! And, most likely, you will have found someone else, especially since you told me that tons of beautiful women love to throw themselves at you, but you never once told me you’re in love with me, so me and you ever being ‘a good couple’ is most likely not going to happen!”

  No longer able to hold back his anger, he snapped back, “I’m not the one who made that deal with the de—forget it!”

  “Fine…”

  Neither said another word afterwards. In fact, nearly a minute later, she angrily yanked back the hand that was holding his, before crossing her hands and arms defiantly in front of her waist—though he shook his head negatively a hundred times, he remained steadfastly silent.

  Fifty-nine million, two hundred and seventy thousand, and two seconds later—or nearly fourteen months later—since the last word was said, yet nothing whatsoever had changed about their misty-surroundings, Baltor couldn’t help but blink his physical eyes in “complete disbelief” at how ridiculously long this fall was taking!

  Before those eyes could reopen from that blink in the very next second, however, his eyes, mind and body had already fallen into a very deep sleep….

  CHAPTER VIII

  When Baltor returned to consciousness, an unknown amount of time later, his mind felt so tingly, numb, and tired…all at the same time. His body felt the same as his mind. His eyelids felt sealed shut, especially because he had tried to open them, but failed—too heavy.

  Despite his blindness, the rest of his body had begun to feel a bunch of new necessary-to-mention things going on all at the same time.

  First, he was now lying on his back on a very soft and comfortable bed. Second, his head lay on an equally soft pillow. Third, he now wore cotton pajamas that clung to his sweat-soaked body. Fourth, a thick, wool blanket covered his body all the way up to his neckline.

  Unfortunately, he could no longer remember that beautiful woman who had been in his fleeting dreams, well, the nightmare he had just experienced. Not even her name or face.

  In fact, as he began to try and think hard about her with his eyes still shut, he only then realized that he couldn’t remember anything else at all—not even his own name!

  Perhaps ten seconds after returning to consciousness, he again attempted to force open his eyes, but this time, they slowly but surely opened…only to discover that his vision was blurry and the darkness in this area prevailed.

  Therefore, the first thing he observed was that the blanket on top of him that was dark in color, but due to the darkness, he could not decipher that color. Nor could he decipher the exact color of the fan that attached into the middle of the white ceiling—all he could tell was that this fan had four blades that pointed in the cardinal directions, and that this fan was also dark in color.

  In the next moment, he looked around, deciphering that the ceiling and the walls were white in this cube-shaped room, approximately twenty-foot squared. The dark-colored wood headboard behind him covered ninety percent of the dark-colored curtains window—below his feet and ten feet beyond the footboard of his bed, there existed a wood door. The other two walls had pictures hanging on them.

  As his vision cleared even more, he looked at the fan yet again, noting four tiny glass bulbs attached into the core pointing in four different directions—these bulbs, however, were not pointing the same directions as the fan blades.

  He turned just his head in order to look to his left, observing that the picture on this wall was that of a vicious great-white shark with a sea-blue background. And sitting next to the very head of his bed was a large toy chest, stuffed to the rim with all types of boy’s toys—soldiers, building blocks for castles, swords, and other strange-looking gizmos he could not identify, etc.

  Shifting his head to the right, perhaps ten seconds later, he saw that the picture on this wall was that of a menacing jester who laughed insanely. A small wooden table sat adjacent to the head of the bed: Lying on it was a small porcelain lamp, which had a little black switch located right underneath the very colorful lampshade. And the strangest object of all sat next to the lamp, which object happened to be a magical box whose illuminated lights revealed: 3:04 a.m.

  After he had sat up in bed, which action caused the blanket to drop down to his lap, he noticed that the pajamas he wore were dark in color, probably navy blue. His arms and hands were boyish in size, like when he had been twelve years old.

  Only seconds after his body was comfortably seated with his legs crossed in front of him, his still-groggy mind tried to ponder where he was…or who he was? He still could not remember anything, not even the word to describe the condition that he suffered from—amnesia.

  His probing thoughts became interrupted, however, as his keen ears began to hear the sounds of soft footsteps shuffling down the hallway outside this bedroom, which sounds were becoming louder every second.

  Not knowing what the heck else to do, he lay back down in bed, closed his eyes, and pulled up the blanket up to his neckline—as fast as he could. Only a second later, he heard the door squeak open just before someone flipped the switch.

  In the next moment, the blackness in his eyelids turned to a very bright red—even though he kept them shut in order to make it look like he was “sleeping,” his ears continued to listen as those shuffling noises closer to his position! He had no clue as to who this person could be…or what he or she wanted.

  A couple seconds later, those shuffling sounds stopped right next to the right side of the bed—that person next sat down next to him, which action caused that side of the bed to scrunch down closer to the ground and concurrently ca
use his body to lean that way.

  An all-too-familiar sounding voice—sounding exactly like his mother—asked in a sleepy tone of voice, “Yawn… Baltor, are you okay, baby? You’re sweating!”

  Only now remembering his own name, he squinted opened his eyes just a bit, so that his eyes could adjust to the light—the silhouette of a woman sat next to him. Looking up at the ceiling—with a whole lot of shock—that the four bulbs was now lit up, in which one hundred percent of the shadows in this room were eliminated!

  The unadorned fan, headboard/footboard, and door were dark brown; the basic curtains were black; his blanket was navy-blue. His pajamas were navy-blue as well, except for the little figures of a muscular, pale man wearing only an animal loincloth and carrying an axe in each hand.

  After gazing again at the female only a couple of seconds later, both his eyes and mind confirmed that this woman was his mother, not remembering that a robber had long ago killed her and his father in the middle of the night when he was twelve years old.

  “Well?” she asked with even more concern. “Are you going to answer my question and tell me if you’re okay?”

  “I—I don’t know if I’m okay,” he heard his own boyish voice say with quite a bit of fear.

  “Well, your father and I heard you screaming like a crazed lunatic in bed—he should be here any second—I think. It looks to me now like you just had another nightmare, right?”

  “Right, Moma,” he said softly, “I had a really horrible nightmare…”

  His mother sighed, before answering, “We all have them here and here…by the way, why did you call me Moma?”

  Before he had a chance to answer her question, he heard his father half-yelling at the door, “Everything all right in here, son?”