-1 Prologue

Who I was, I could no longer recollect properly. Even my real name was of bleak recall. I only remembered the nature of my existence which was that of a human mortal from the realm of earth in the Outerworld. My existence only knew my quill pen and my rolls of parchment. Many were the names that people came to call me by, all of which I responded to unconsciously. On this significant day, I was sitting at my oak table while writing in quick, ferocious bursts, punctuated only by my countless astral visions and my moments of reverie. I wrote because I felt the compulsion to do so, and the language of my written script, was that of the immortal deities.

How was I able to do so?

Because now, I fully understood the language and its concept. This was not my making, since I was only a mortal. This was bestowed upon my entity in order to write what I saw and would see, down, for future testimony.

It had been so long since I had written using the immortal language, making the script I was writing, to come irregularly at the beginning. The long strokes of my precious quill pen had been just a little too formative, but eventually I remembered my way. And the letters, flew from my pen like a mirage of lightning. The more I write, the more I became one with the memories and the strokes of the immortal language.

It was in the dark of the night as snow fell from a sky of umber darkness, covering the landscape of the world outside my closed window, in white. The falling snow had obscured my vision so that I could barely discern the distant, beyond my humble abode which made me decided to close the bamboo window. My chamber was well lit from the light of Cavara. The ever burning lamp that I managed to buy from the antique dealer that grazed our town, not too long ago. The light was giving my chamber a radiant glow.

Soon the events of the recent past were flowing freely. After scribbling furiously for some minutes, I sat as motionless as I could, for hours. I was watching the snowflakes drift down, and thought it welcoming that they should come so heavily. I watched the written scripts in front of me on the table as my soul tremble in confirmation. There was still a lot for me to write as my mind continued to process the recollected information it had recieved. The snow fell peacefully and quietly since I had managed to close my windows shut. No disturbances needed, so that I could write without having to clear this oak table of mine, every few minutes.

I remembered clearly what hapened to me to cause my scribbling away like a deprived lunatic. The memories were still fresh like engraved journals. I remembered sleeping in my bamboo bed one night, when I suddenly found myself floating back in time. My body was still lying in bed but my spirit was being carted away. This had never happened to me before. True, I was a scribbler, but I only write accounts that were related to me in the physical sense. But this..., this was in the domain of the spirits. The anticipation of my destination was already making my soul weary and extremely disturbed.

Why was I having this spirit experience?

This question kept nagging at the back of my mind as I floated back in time. After a moment of eternity, the clouds beneath me parted to reveal a serene landscape. This was a place of lucid moonstones and cloudstones. The massive walls of this place were made from pure sunstones. The gates of ivory were exquisite to behold. The symbols and sigils covering the gates were indication that this place was the Ethereal Eternal, the Infinitum.

Fear gripped my soul, as my spirit continued to float and was deposited in front of a giant lucid mirror of rainbow colour that was emanating a divine energy. Energy so divine that it made my spirit trembled in fear.

The Million Myriads Mirror.

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This was a divine artefact that no mortal or deity had ever seen without entering reincarnation. Here my spirit was, standing before the mirror as a mortal spirit. And as far as my memory was concerned, I was still a living mortal at this point in time. Not yet entered the samsara cycle.

Then, why was I here, standing in front of the divine mirror?

There was only one answer that came to my mind. Taking into consideration my work as a scribbler, I could only be here to bear a witness to a divine occurence at the least. As I continued to waddle in my thoughts, I heard a voice that sounded too close to my ears, yet, sounded very far off.

"Pay attention to what you see, so you may write them down. They will serve as a reference in the future."

I turned to the direction of the voice so I may see who was speaking to me. My spirit nearly exploded from the glimpse of eternal light. I quickly fell on my knees and kow-towed to this formless entity of light.

"Stand and pay attention."

With great difficulty, I stood and continued to stare at the mirror. Appearing before me inside the mirror, was the underworld with no end to its entirety. Worryingly, I tried to turn my head and observe my sorroundings to know if I was actually dead and into reincarnation or I was only dreaming. I knew this experience was already too much for a motal soul to bear, and now to be seeing the underworld. This wasn't something a mortal should be seeing and definitely not a place where a mortal should be.

But, I was compelled to observe. Wherever I was, and whatever was happening, this entity that brought me here truly wanted me to be a witness to this event.

Remebering the words of the entity, I focused my attention back on the mirror. The Underworld unfolded before me. The underworld was truly a magnificent and terrifying world. The glory of the Underworld couldn't be explained with words alone. Only by sight could it be observed appreciatively. The Underworld had a central palacium under the rule of lord Hades, the Divine-Supreme of the underworld. The underworld was divided into three realms, Abaddon, Abyss and Tartarus. Each of these realms was under the rule of a sovereign, the World-Sovereign. Each realm had numerous dominions with each dominion under the rulership of a king, the Doma-King.

A ruler was compelled to name his house according to the region of his or her rule. Lord Hades was of the house of Underworld.

The scene before me shifted and displayed the realm of Tartarus. The realm of dungeons. This was the realm where the evil souls with extreme karmic sins were imprisoned, including the dangerous and dreadful titans. As I was indulging myself in its reverie, I was shown a massive dome house. The symbol and sigil in front of the house was a clear indication.

The house of Tartarus.

The house of Tartarus was located high on a very tall mountain that looked dark and enchanting. The obsidian house. The home of lord Hargoven, the World-Sovereign of the Tartarus realm. Taking a closer look at the place, I could see that It had undergone severe battle as of recent. The immense, domed obsidian building was pierced in many places. Its obsidian walls had signs of slashes and gashes.

After realization dawned on me, I closed my eyes at sight of the palace. A ghost of its former glory, though, there were still signs of life inside the palace. This was the house of the ruler of the realm of Tartarus. What a sad state!

The mirror reverted backwards and stopped at the image of a young girl. Who could this be? It had to be someone of importance, I wondered. Then, suddenly, as if it read my mind, a name was displayed.

Ethera.

That was her name. An immortal deity from the house of Tartarus. The daughter of lord Hargoven of the ruling house of the realm of Tartarus in the underworld.

Was I here to bear witness to this immortal girl? Was I brought here to be able to tell the tale of an immortal girl, who became a legendary myth?

The mirror took my spirit along with it as it descended into the depth of darkness, silently. As we dropped down, the state of the house became more glaring. Sorrow once again washed over me as I remembered the young girl who called this place her home. As I was wallowing in the sorrow of the place, I saw the faint passage of a mighty shadow which made me trembled. A shadow that even made the passage of time to vibrate and flunctuate. A memory of a shadow that could cause the mirror to flunctuate? Surely, a shadow of an entity that didn't belong to the place.

Who or what was this shadow?

The mirror shifted back to the young immortal girl, Ethera, and stopped as the voice of the entity that brought me here sounded again.

"Now, it begins. See and bear witness."