Afterlife--[RadioSuitcase & Brand]

It was a vast darkness, an endless black sea, a place where the sky and the ground blended seamlessly together, going on forever. At first, the air was heavy, suffocating, as though underwater, yet not. It was cold, freezing, and then warm. The world turned, and suddenly, the sky was lit up with a million tiny stars. The ground appeared, the darkness transforming into knee-high grass, and wildflowers. There was nothing else in this place.

Lydia was transfixed, lying on her back in the grass, her eyes facing upwards at the twinkling stars. She was not sure when it happened - One moment, she was blind, she couldn't breath, and then suddenly, she was here. Reaching upwards with one arm, she stared at the back of her hand. The nails were painted red, but she had no recollection of ever painting them. She combed her fingers through her short hair, noting that it was almost as black as the sky. Had she always had dark hair? For some reason, she could not remember. She could not even remember what color her eyes were, though anyone looking at her could tell her they were a light blue.

The girl was dead. At 18 years-old, she had taken her own life. And as her heart stopped beating, and her brain shut down, her mind was wiped clean. This field was not where she died, it was a place she had never been to before. She had died wearing dark jean shorts, a t-shirt, a light jacket, and worn sneakers, and she awoke here still wearing them, though they were dry now. They had been soaked through only a short while ago.

Despite being lost, and feeling very empty, there was something comforting in the air. Sitting up, she surveyed the field around her, looking left and right, before hunching forward. She pulled her knees towards her chest, her arms wrapping around her legs.

Was this right? It didn't feel right. Had she always been here? Minutes passed by, and yet nothing came to mind. There were no memories in her head, there was nothing to think of. Lydia bowed her head down, wanting to cry, but finding the tears refused to come. Had she always felt so empty inside? Why was no one else here?

The grass tips danced as a breeze gently rolled on. A girl rested in the field, with her knees against her breast. She sat alone beneath the sea of stars. The meadow and wildflowers glowed, illuminated by starlight; it was a place of peace and mourning.

From behind the girl, an apparition emerged. It's body was shapless, and place of flesh there was a swirling smoke. A mask hung, suspended by the smoke. The mask itself was white, with carved lips and a nose, along with a thin, dotted black line running down the center half. Deep hues of yellow, green and blue danced across the mask, mimicking the virbrant colors of the field, the stars, and the dark blue sky. The brown eyes of the mask were human, and upon sighting the girl, the specter's body took form into that of a humans. Again, in place of flesh there was transparent darkness, a feature that could not be helped. As the creature moved, the dark shapes of figures behind him danced across his skin, and his body shimmered, as if made of liquid.

The world was queit. A star streaked across the sky, and massive clouds lumbered forward, illuminated by the moon. Behind the clouds the stars gleamed against the deepest black, and the grass around the girl glistened and danced as the wind carried on. It was a portrait of beauty, and everything belonged where it was, all except for one thing. The man, or the spirit rather, looked upon the girl with soft eyes and a heavy heart, as if a great burden weighed on his chest. Suddenly, the silence was broken as a voice spoke out from behind the mask, "Hello."

Clouds rolled overhead, and the girl glanced upwards, her expression blank. Could it rain here? Rain did not feel appropriate, not in such a calm place.

..."Hello."

Lydia's whole body stiffened, as she heard the voice directly behind herself. She was not alone after all, the field was not so empty; but why had she not heard any footsteps in the grass? Turning her upper body, her arms unwrapped themselves from her knees, and she found herself looking up at a person who was not quite a person. Instinct told her to scream and run, but she remained on the ground, some of the color draining from her face.

"Hello..." Lydia answered in a voice barely above a whisper. Swallowing a lump that had formed in her throat, a frightened nervousness inched its way slowly up her spine. She could see through it - Or him. The voice had sounded like a man's.

The grass shivered around them, a swift wind picking up and blowing between them. Lydia pushed a few strands of hair from her face, her eyes never straying from those in the mask. Why was he wearing a mask? She could not be sure if he was dangerous, if she could not see his face. Maybe that was the point, "Who... Who are you?"

"'I scared you," the spirit said, more to himself than to the girl. Nonchalantly, the spirit walked in front of her, and took a seat facing the girl; together, they sat in the midst of the wildflower meadow. "I'm sorry. I imagine I look odd to you, don't I?" the spirit stated simply, followed by a breif chuckle.

'Who are you?' the question repeated in his head.

The girl's face was pale, and her body had shifted into a more defensive looking posture. The spirit's eyes measured the features of the girl, noting her short, black hair and red nails. She was young, looking perhaps eighteen or nineteen. His shoulders sagged, and his eyes glazed over; he was sad to see her. Then, he rocked his head back, and peered through his mask at the starry field above. Calmly, he said, "It's a pretty sky isn't it?"

"This has always been my favorite scene," his voice trailed off slightly as he watched the rolling clouds above. Suddenly, he returned his attention to the girl, "Tell me, when you look at me, what would you say i am?"

The girl did not move, she did not speak, as the whatever-it-was stepped around, and sat in front of her. Lydia leaned back, hearing his words, but not quite comprehending them. Of course he had scared her! Anyone would be frightened of someone suddenly appearing behind them, especially in such a dark and lonely place as this. And to say he looked 'odd'... Odd did not feel like a strong enough word.

As he spoke of the sky, she looked up as well, though she frowned. His favorite scene; what could that mean? If he had said this was his favorite meadow, or his favorite time of day, it would have made more sense. But scene? Lydia's train of thought came to a stop, as she heard his question, her eyes back onto his.

"I don't know." She answered slowly, her body shifting back uncomfortably. The urge to get up and run was becoming stronger, but still she remained sitting on the ground, "You don't look very human." She added, though that much should have been obvious. He was shaped like a human, and had a human's voice, but that appeared to be it.

"What kind of question is that? What do you want?"

"Me? I don't want anything," the spirit stated plainly. "This is home; you're the stranger here."

Indeed, in this world, the girl was the oddity. The spirit hated playing games and not being direct with the girl, but she was asking questions the spirit couldn't anwer. Or rather, she was asking questions he was forbid from answering. To add to the complexity she was new in this world, and 'first impressions' between newcomers and the habitants of this world, the spirit world, rarely went well. Because of this, the spirit thought it wise to let the girl discover some things on her own: The cause of her being here a prime example.

There are no living souls in this world, only the damned and the lost. She was here because for whatever reason she had taken her own life back when blood coursed through her veins. This world was a world void of all pain but the eternal pain of the heart; it was a place of eternal sorrow. Even in the darkest places, there can be a shimmer of light, and it was the spirits duty to guide her to the light, so that she might reach for it and save them both.

Oh! How he wanted to tell her; tell her everything! Tell her she had taken her life, but was being given a second chance! That if she should choose to reclaim her life, she would be saving him from an eternity of suffering as well! But alas, he knew his place. The choice alone was hers, and how unfair it was that his own eternity might rest in her hands. Should she cast the light away and accept her place amung the dead, she would codemn him. That very thought made the spirit both hate and adore the girl. He hoped he would not fail her as he had seen others fail before him. The thought of his task at hand weighed heavy on his mind and heart, and was the cause of a perpetual sadness which enveloped him, and could be seen through his very human eyes.

For the time being though, the girl was stumbling in the dark, unaware of what was at stake. As he looked at her, he felt compassion for the first time in a very long time. Not because she was a Lost Soul, but because she was his Lost Soul. The journey ahead would be rough, like a storm yet to come, but for now, they could rest, and he could get to know the girl beyond being a Lost Soul, and maybe come to know her as a human being.

"May i ask your name?"

"My name?"

The question should not have caught her off guard like it did. It was a normal thing to ask, right? The girl stared, her frown more prominent, as she thought. It was there, right on the tip of her tongue, but no words could be formed. What was her name?

"I-- I don't know." It was normal for the heart to race, for adrenaline to pump through the veins, for panic to cloud the mind. She had no idea that technically, she had no beating heart. But to feel these things came so naturally, she could not forget them just because of something like death. She had a name, she knew she did.

Standing from the ground, Lydia was no longer looking at the spirit; he was no longer there. She was lost in the dark recesses of her mind, blinded. What was her name? How could she forget something like that, something one heard from birth? Turning away, the girl began to walk, looking downwards. The grass in this field was so strange, each blade was rich and full of life. Not one looked out of place, not one looked drier than the other. The flowers too, though she did not stoop down to pluck one from the ground to examine it closely, each looked utterly perfect. What kind of place was this? Why was she even here? It was beautiful, but something felt wrong.

The spirit watched the girl stand to her feet, and a confused look shot across her face. It was the look of realization that she had forgotten who she was, an instance not uncommon in the spirit's world.

"You've forgotten," the spirit spoke softly. He kept his distance from the girl as he continued, "I can't tell you how you got here, but i would like to help you find your way home; I know this place very well."

While the spirit world could only be actively manipulated by the Koi, sometimes small changes in the world would occur due to the unconscious thoughts of the lost souls which would manifest through the Koi. The spirit standing with Lydia had at one point built the meadow, the stars and even the clouds, but he had never created the flowers. Yet there they were, thousands of wildflowers spanning the meadow like a great ocean. The spirit leaned over and plucked a flower from the grass, he then carried the it delicately between his fingers as he approached the girl. Then, with an outstretched arm he held it before the girl.

As the spirit spoke a red hue danced across his mask, reflecting the vibrant color on the flower now in his hands, "They are called Middlemist's Red, and they are very rare flower. It is good to find them here; perhaps it is a good sign."

The spirit paused for a moment, and then continued, "Is there anything you remember, anything at all?"

The girl stopped walking as the spirit's voice reached her ears. She turned slightly, looking back over her shoulder at the creature with the mask. Instinct told her to keep walking, to tell him to go away, but...

"I don't know. I'm trying to think of something, but nothing comes to mind." That sounded confusing even to her. She could not remember anything; not her name, not her age, not where she lived. Lydia did not remember waking up anywhere but here, or wearing anything but the clothes she currently wore. Reaching out hesitantly at first, she took the flower from his hand, holding it close to her face to see that it was indeed perfect. Each petal was shaped exactly the same.

"Why would you want to help me?" Blue eyes narrowing, she took a step backwards, "How can you help me, if you don't know who I am either?" A fair enough question, she thought. He had never answered her question of who he was. The perfect field, the perfect sky, and the strange 'man'; all together, it was a truly bizarre world.