...

Blackness surrounds from all sides, with nothing but the constant intertwining of ever glowing orbs to fill the emptiness around. A subtle flame ignites far off in the distance, as weak as the slightest of sparks.

Slowly but surely, moving at speeds only just visible, the flicker approaches, proving itself to be further away than expected. Masses of orbs drift by as the flame grows and grows until eventually a world forms, as dark as the space surrounding it, yet only visible in the flickers of the surrounding flames.

Zeke finds his feet planting firm upon its rough texture, still the world around him grows, when finally a path presents itself before him. With the growth now static, Zeke follows on, finding no thoughts to fill the emptiness he feels inside. He walks on with no fear, nor curiosity.

Blood red vines spread, as far as can be, across crooked rock faces that line either side of the pathway. The orbs of the accompanying emptiness can now only be viewed above; only when directing vision upwards, beyond the pointed peaks of the blackened crags.

Just beyond, a light tint pierces the darkness from which it is held. The pathway stops, as do the walls. An opening takes all from view, leaving Zeke nowhere to progress but backwards. The light, a soft blue, fills the space, tinting any stray orbs a cooler shade.

To its centre, upon the whitest of thrones, and powerful in stature, sits a man. His entirety; hair, iris-less eyes, and his long flowing grabs of older days, emit the blue light, glowing contrary to the darkened blacks and reds which surround him.

"Finally we meet face to face my boy." The man's voice is cold yet smooth, bouncing back and forth about the emptiness. The glow of the orbs around him seem to glow brighter with every syllable that he speaks.

Zeke would freeze, if in this episode he ever was of conscious thought. Instead he keeps his vision blank, locked upon the ethereal being before him. "NalasLitael."

The being nods, keeping the glowing blue spaces, where eyes are expected to occupy, locked upon Zeke.

"I'm glad to see you're filling your potential. Yet, you still have a long way to go." The NalasLitael continues, keeping his stance proud and upright. "Events will soon turn, and this is not of your control. You must not allow what will be to effect your progression. Your potential will be needed soon enough."

For the first time, Zeke comes somewhat to life. Though not entirely. He knows he feels something, but can't figure out what.

"What's going to happen?" He asks, finally finding a tweak of emotion in his voice.

The NalasLitael expels a heavy breath, it's power would be enough to take Zeke right from his feet if he was to occupy the real world.

"I brought you here only to relay you a message. Our time is done. You must now leave. But remember, events are out of your control. All you can do is grow stronger."

"What events?" Zeke calls, but his voice fails to reach the NalasLitael.

Before he can comprehend his feet lift from the pathway and he's whisked away much faster than when he approached. As it emerged, the world fades until eventually only a spark of flame, and then nothing. The orbs that surround dim as though slowly extinguishing their lights.

Eventually all is black.

The last thing Zeke can comprehend are the Nalaslitael's final words.

"We shall meet again soon enough. Until that day comes, you must grow. So long my boy. Until next time."

...

It takes all of his willpower to force his heavy eyelids to an open. A sharp pain throbs about his head, filling every crevice with agony. He takes a moment, trying to figure his location, yet the blur of his vision permits only smears of greens and browns. He can neither hear, nor smell.

All he has is the heavy waves of pain that spread across the entirety of his body, throbbing ever sharper upon the joints of his knees, elbows, and ribs.

Eventually, the popping of his ears allows his increased heart to be felt and heard, as well as the stuttered breaths his lungs struggle to gather.

His eyes gradually gain focus, though only directly ahead; his peripherals still merge all colours.

Zeke fights and fumbles to find his feet, but every movement gives off a piercing sensation, like any motion is met with a combination of invisible daggers, tearing away at his flesh.

He reaches up, grasping with stiffened fingers at a low branch. They wrap around, yet cannot hold firm. Zeke grunts as the daggers dig ever deeper. He gasps and murmurs, fighting harder and harder to pull his weakened body from the grass below.

With one final shriek, loud enough to scare away the bravest of flyers, Zeke forces his upper body to raise.

Streams of tears run from his eyes as he clasps them tight to fight away the intensity of the pain. Just one hand holds, refusing to let go. In his mind, this is his defeat. Should he fail here, he may as well wait for the next crawler to come and finish him off.

No, he won't allow it.

Shrieking and wailing, battling against the forces pulling his limp muscles to the ground, Zeke manages to sit, but already he's found his limits.

A dagger, sharper than those before, digs deep into his lower ribs, cutting his breath off , leaving only gasps. He fights to breathe. His lungs won't allow it. Just more and more pain, each gasp adding to the agony the young boy already feels. His eyes clamp tighter, battling the pain, his teeth are forced together, keeping his shrieks at bay. The one hand still gripping the low hanging branch grips ever tighter, snapping in his palm. A soft agony too timid to break through the forces already at work.

Sat up, tears streaming down his dirt covered cheeks, with dried blood covering patches all about his weakened body. That's how he stays, gripping his branch for dear life, wishing for nothing more than one of his mother's healing cuddles to drown away the pain. But it doesn't come, leaving the young boy alone to fight away the pains of battle alone.