CHAPTER 21: THE FIRST FLOOR OF HEAVEN

The words of the groundskeeper still rang in his head like a rolling bell, he could feel he was under a strange force but due to his blindness he could not tell if he was moving somewhere or still in the massive cage— if he was he would have heard Annik.

The only thing he could do in the shape of time he was being bombarded with strange energy was holding on to both his companions as tight as he could and think.

Aerith was perplexed by the nature of his situation, and by the way he held on to both the wounded Nasha and the heavily afflicted Emilia. His grip was to tight one would assume he had been soldered until them like metal joints. He had never felt so attached to any one in his life before, he wondered why he was reacting in such a way so suddenly.

Back in the real world, or in better terms the world he was in previously, he had no reaction to the lord his father showing him sympathy, even when the household of the lord’s mansion wept over him he did not even flinch a muscle and now he felt a strange feeling.

Unable to do anything while he was suspended in the strange space he though about what he was experiencing and why he was feeling in such a way. He began to question what they meant to them, Emilia was a child who had been abused her whole life because she was an anomaly since birth who all she wanted from her parents was their love. Being deprived of this she sought death all her life, but he saved her at the cost of his life twice. Perhaps witnessing such a struggle right before his eyes made him feel a deep sense of affection tion towards her. And he had always loved children so the could not hide his affection towards her.

But towards Nasha his stoic protector gave of a different emotion entirely, unlike the little witch girl they had zero connection and never conversed aside strictly needed information, still he felt a deep pain towards her. Or was it severance?

How could she risk her life under her father’s behest, why hadn’t he come himself? Or was he too noble to risk his life for his only son?

Did he feel guilt, even if he did what did he feel guilty about? It hurt his head trying to think about why he felt what, feeling has never been his strong suit. He would rather kill his feelings and be rational with things.

Thinking he would run mad from overthinking he opened his mouth and spoke but there was no voice. He tried to call to his comrades but nothing happened.

"What the hell happened to my voice?" He panicked internally.

He could not see, hear or smell anything. It was utter blackness to all his senses, it made him hold on tight to both his comrades like they were his sanity.

"Why did the tuna lady tell me to protect Em? Who is she and what’s special about her anyway?" He asked himself.

After being in a strange void on the verge of losing his sanity for several minutes Aerith was coughed up somewhere. The sensation was like being forcefully pushed out of a thick bubble made of mucus.

A blinding light was the first thing to greet him, it blinded him and caused him to let out a loud groan as all three of them fell on their back. He had not known his eyes were open or that his eyesight had returned due to the darkness of the void but only to realise they really were. This he learned the hard way.

He reached for Nasha instinctively, half afraid his hand would meet only the memory of her. He heaved a deep sigh when he felt her figure right next to him. "Thank the heavens."

As he bid his time trying to recover from the shock of the blazing light he tried to do other things like acknowledge his surroundings as best he could.

The first thing he took notice of was undoubtedly the air itself, there was this cool breeze brushing against the face and the tip of his nose. It felt chilling and calm, carrying a minty smell he could feet at the top of his tongue.

He reached his hands under him to feel something, his fingers grazed the earth— not stone, not steel, but earth. Actual earth.

It danced beneath his touch. Thin blades of swayed like a thousand sighs, trembling beneath the gentle weight of his curiosity. Each strand seemed alive, humming with the breath of something ancient and foreign.

He pressed his palm deeper, and warmth spilled into him. He could feel a pulse, but faint. It was a heartbeat that was not his, yet somehow resonated with his own. It was a rather odd and surreal sensation he could hardly describe.

His chest tightened. He felt weighed down by a thousand anvils , unable to hear it he sat up straight and screamed. "What the hell."

His eyes were once again flooded with light but this time it was much more bearable, the sight before him took his mind off the fact that he could hear his voice again. There was a vast scenery before him, a world that only existed in fairytales.

There were thin blades of grass rising severl feet above the ground. They were bright green, fresh and swaying in the gentle breeze like a well choreographed group of dancers performing a flawless rendition. Such a sight was a beauty to behold, it practically sucked all the air away from his lungs. For a short span of time all he could do was breath and stare.

His curiousity finally got the better of him, "Is this... Heaven?"

The tall blades of grass all swayed to a side and bowed their heads as if giving him a nod, he almost gasped in surprise. "It is?" His remark was a bit louder than it should have been, hopefully no one heard him in the world beyond the land of the dead.

Just then a voice spoke shattering his dream of living in a world free from suffering, the voice was a giggle— a soft giggle. Aerith’s soul jumped out of his skin as he looked back to see both his companions still out cold on the ground. He wondered where the voice had then coke from, but it spoke shortly after.

"You’re funny, this isn’t heaven. It’s the first floor of the tower." He traced the source of the voice to a huge boulder barely a feet away from where he had been laying.

His eyes almost fell out of their sockets in shock. "Dear god, the rock speaks!"

The giggle cake again, this time much louder. It was then he noticed the figure standing on the rock, and that the voice had come from the figure rather than the rock. He groaned inwardly as he tried to hide his embarrassment. "Shit, I’ve made a fool of myself.

The figure was a boy looking to be as tall as him but his face seemed much younger. He had short trimmed silver white hair that glistened in the light, a face that looked powerdered and filled with sparkles. His eyes were two huge silver glass gems. His clothing was unlike any fabric Aerith had ever seen, they looked to be cut from some top of the line material. A beautiful green vest over white shirt and a funny striped black and white trousers. Even his shoes had a sort of flair to them.

Aerith could not hold back his surprise as the words slipped out. "Is that... An angel?"

A/N: 1 dragon=5 extra Chapters