Far from the famous Oak house, a few abandoned houses were present.
Likely left by family's who moved out of Silverwolf years ago and never looked back again.
Though the land remained for free use, no one payed it any attention due to the thick repairing it required.
With roofs completely collapsed, timber decayed and walls covered in mould and weeds.
The only residents left were mould and dirt.
In one such house, a small slender figure sat, meditating with his eyes closed, being so still he seemed to be a statue.
This unlikely presence was none other than Lakir.
.
The soft breeze felt cool against his skin, he could feel each breath he took and his hands on his knees but at the same time it all felt distant.
He explored the darkness behind his closed eyes, his only focus was to delve further into this darkness . And with each step he took his head throbbed like crazy. But he did not stop and continued.
The reason for his persistence was simple.
Behind the darkness of his closed eyes lay the path of the beginning.
Though almost every immortal, whether it be a god or a ghost, knew this fact.
No one other than him and the heavenly lord was able to successfully reach there.
There were people who had been there other than them but they were no longer in any realm.
Amongst them was his mother.
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Lakir continued to move further and further inside the darkness.
After sometime, he travelled to a place with no hint of light.
The walls, the roof, the floor, all was pitch black.
The air felt heavy and thick like a fog, his breathing felt shorter and quicker, his heart racing from a mix of emotions.
Suddenly the warm surroundings felt distant and he could feel a cool sensation all over his body as the darkness seeped in from his surroundings, nearing him, moving as if it had a mind of its own .
The thick dark sludge like darkness slowed his movement, his other senses blurred and he felt no control over his physical body, feeling like his soul had drifted away from his physical self.
But he let himself be carried.
He let the sludge cover every inch of his body and let it cradle him like a precious jewel.
The sludge, seemingly happy with this submission, moved while rubbing his whole self against Lakir.
'Blackie!' He pictured calling the entity warmly, who rubbed himself over him more excitedly in response.
He let the entity play with him to its heart's content, but didn't forget to scold it playfully.
'Why are you so affectionate today, hmm? You little crackhead darling.'
He imagined patting the dark mass and the entity realised his intention, wriggling in response.
Though their movement should have produced noise, Lakir's surrounding remained dead quiet.
Afterall, the realm of consciousness was also known as the realm of silence.
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The playful encounter lasted for a while.
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After some time of moving with all his body covered under the sludge, it was finally the time to arrive at his destination.
As a goodbye, the sludge rubbed against him one last time and then slowly uncovered Lakir's body, showing him where he had guided him.
.
Though, now the darkness recognised him but it was not always this welcoming.
About three hundred years ago, when Lakir had just started to walk the path of ascension. He decided to try his hand at accessing the beginning as well.
He tried meditating, but he could not reach anywhere, his focus not lasting more than a hour before he collapsed due to headaches. The only thing he ever saw was dark.
Therefore, he started gathering information.
And the said information came from rumours about the heavenly lord.
He tried anything he heard, like jumping into a dark well and meditating for days, meditating beneath the waterfall or even hanging upside from a tree and trying to concentrate.
'The blood would go to the brain. You would concentrate better, they said.'
Obviously nothing worked out.
There was a moment he wanted to let go of his pride and ask the lord himself for guidance, like other newcomers did.
Atlast, he couldn't.
He wanted to reach there by his own abilities
After another couple of multiple fails, Lakir decided to meditate at a quiet place, a place where he found comfort.
He looked for multiple places, explored them for a while and let his heart decided.
This method surprisingly took him to abandoned places and he was actually able to concentrate better, seeing more than just black!
For the first time, the endless darkness he saw appeared as the inside of a tunnel with rough uneven texture, he was able to breath in the warm air and smell the rot.
Yes, the inside of his consciousness smelled like decay.
Thus ended one struggle, only for the next to begin; the hostility he faced in his own consciousness was truly bewildering.
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The first time he truly attmepted to enter his consciousness, the darkness was quite apprehensive.
It conjured wobbly floors laid with multiple traps which made Lakir keep falling for a long time.
Then, when he somehow got out, it would push him back inside the holes.
The second time, Lakir came prepared.
He tried to manipulate his mind by his imagination, creating scenarios of his own in response to the darkness.
It seemed to work at first.
Only to get him pushed out of his own mind and his meditation getting distrupted.
The third and fourth attempt ended comically, with him trying to bribe the darkness or negotiate with it and the entity pushing it out like a mean land-lady.
By the fifth time, Lakir was as frustrated as a salaryman forced to work on weekends.
Denying all logic and bounds, he just pounced on the darkness.
He walked and walked further into it.
Even when he fell in traps, he kept walking.
He walked as he tore down the dark walls of his consciousness, which kept on rebuilding.
He walked even when his head was ringing and had gone numb due to the throbbing pain.
He just kept walking.
Eventually he reached a strange place.
.
The same strange place he was standing in front of right now.