23. Rahzlyn
Rahzlyn
Deafening, dark silence surrounded.
No end, no beginning. Only a vast, opaque abyss expanded.
All traces of life ceased, save for the faintest trickle of water. A stream lurked in the shadows. From its contents, a choir beckoned.
“Come, child of Scorpio. Drink.”
Summoned by the ethereal voice, an enchanting pool materialized.
A choice hung in the stagnant air: to chase the sole indication of life and drown in it, or to remain still and be lost to the obscure void forever.
The certainty of pain was guaranteed with the former. Eternal peace beckoned from the latter.
“Drink, child,” the voice urged, haunting and soothing and songlike. “Drink and live, drink and drown. Drink and feel and claim your crown.”
In a fragile moment of contemplation, a decision was made.