Solgaret

Aster's eyes fluttered open, and the chilly wind stung his face. 

"Brrr, cold!" Aster grimaced as he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around himself in a futile attempt to warm up.

'Where even am I?' Aster though to himself as he turned his head to look left, and then right. 

It was just fog. 

Endless, unforgiving fog surrounded him, obscuring anything and everything from view. He spun around, but there was nothing to see - just an endless expanse of ghostly white mist. 

'Where do I go? Is this a dream? It must be, right?' 

Aster exhaled a misty breath, warming his frozen hands with a gentle puff of air. 

"Haaahh..." 

Aster glanced down at himself, and his eyes widened in dismay. All he wore was a tattered, brown leather cloak, its shredded edges fluttering in the cold wind. No wonder he felt frozen to the bone. 

'It's because I'm not wearing pants!!' 

Also being barefoot, his feet could feel some sort of cold, wet, and solid rocky surface down below. He tapped the ground twice, each time his feet feeling the same hard and chilly sensation. 

Fluttering his hands around, he noticed that their pale skin was almost indistinguishable from the swirling mist. As they cut through the fog like spectral blades, the fog only reformed itself, as if nothing happened. 

"I need to stop acting like a kid," Aster muttered to himself, squaring his shoulders as he began to trudge down the rocky terrain, his eyes scanning the fog-shrouded landscape for any sign of direction. 

... 

Aster walked on and on for what felt like an eternity, the fog swirling around him like a damp shroud. 

Finally, he felt a sudden warmth seep into his chilled bones as his feet sank into the calm waters of a narrow pond. He gazed down, surprised, as the gentle ripples lapped at his toes, offering a fleeting respite from the biting cold.

"Aster..." A ghostly whisper seemed to caress his ear, sending shivers down his spine. Aster's head jerked up, his eyes scanning the fog-shrouded pond, as he strained to locate the source of the eerie summons. It seemed as if the ghosts from fictional books such as Ferry Potter had come to life, and were calling to him. 

"Who are you?!" Aster called out, his voice echoing across the pond, but the only response was the oppressive silence of the fog, which seemed to swallow his words whole, leaving him with an unsettling stillness.

Aster waded deeper into the pond, the water level climbing up his legs as he forced his way through the resistance. The surface erupted into huge, chaotic ripples that lapped around him, as if the water itself was trying to hold him back, its gentle warmth giving way to a fierce, turbulent struggle. 

"Aster…." The whisper repeated, caressing his ears once again. 

As Aster pushed forward, the mist suddenly parted, revealing a brilliant, sunshine-yellow light. The warm glow drew him in, and Aster walked towards it with a sense of longing, the light beckoning to him like a beacon of hope. 

Finally the pond gave way, and he found himself facing a rocky shoreline that seemed to absorb the light around it, its surface a deep, foreboding black. Aster could still see the bright yellow light emanating from afar. 

"It's literally black..." Aster breathed, his voice barely above a whisper, as he trudged through the remaining water to reach the somber shore. 

…. 

"I'm here," Muttering to himself, his eyes drifted downward to the jagged, black sand beneath him. He sank to his knees, the coarse grains biting into his skin as he dug his hands into the sand, his fingers sifting through the darkness in search of something - anything. 

"It's still all black….." 

Suddenly the light that had been calling Aster twinkled, and his head jerked up. 

"Is this….some sort of temple or something?" 

Rising from the black sand, two colossal stone pillars stood parallel to each other, forming a majestic gateway that framed the yellow light. 

Aster walked through the coarse black sand, his feet sinking with each step, until he passed between the towering pillars. As he emerged on the other side, the sand gave way to a smooth, stone platform that stretched out before him, bathed in the radiant, yellow light. The platform rose up in two broad steps, leading to a flat surface. 

He climbed the platform, moving forward towards the light. 

A step. A step. A step, and a step. 

"Huh?" 

Four blackstone pillars rose from the platform, their surfaces etched with intricate carvings that seemed to dance in the radiant light. Arranged in a perfect circle, the pillars stood sentinel, their alignment drawing the eye inexorably to the center - the source of the brilliant, yellow light that had been calling to Aster. 

Aster moved forward, his hand reaching out to touch one of the blackstone pillars. As his palm made contact with the cool, dark stone, he noticed a series of intricate carvings that seemed to hold a hidden meaning. 

"The sun?" Aster muttered, his eyes tracing the curves of a carving that depicted a blazing sun, its fiery flares stretching out in all directions, covering the entire surface of the pillar. As he continued to examine the pillar, the light that had been emanating from the center faded, its intensity diminishing until it was just a soft, warm glow. Aster's gaze lifted, and he turned to his right, his eyes drawn to the center of the circle, where the light had been emanating from. 

As the light had dimmed, it was now possible to directly gaze at the source of the light. In the center, a smaller blackstone pillar, roughly half the size of the other pillars, rose from the platform. The area where it emerged was engraved with a delicate, intricate circle, adding to the pillar's mystique. 

The top of the pillar was a blackstone plate, resting on top of it, a tiny, translucent orange orb, fiery flames running through it. It was like a miniature version of the great sun, had been placed on top of the small blackstone plate. 

"Aster…." The orb called to him, in a voice so ghastly that it seemed fictional. 

Aster's voice was barely above a whisper as he asked, "What... are you?" The tiny ball of flames had spoken, and Aster was both intrigued and unsettled. 

He leaned in, his eyes fixed on the dancing embers. 

"Take me..." The whisper was low and raspy, sending shivers down Aster's spine. "What?" he repeated, his voice cracking with anticipation. But the response was the same: "Take me..." Aster's voice caught in his throat as he gazed, transfixed, at the orb of fire. His arm moved of its own accord, reaching out as if hypnotized, his fingers stretching towards the flames. 

Aster's hand extended into the orb, and although the flames enveloped his skin, he felt only a gentle warmth, as if the fire had no intention of harming him. His fingers closed around the ball of flames, and to his amazement, it began to shrink, slowly being absorbed into his fist. The flames danced across his skin, but instead of burning him, they seemed to be merging with him, becoming a part of him. 

The orb finally disappeared, absorbed completely by Aster's hand. All that remained was the blackstone plate, empty and without purpose. 

"What the hell?…." Aster muttered.