Page 89 of The Warlock's Trial

We entered a dark room. The floor opened beneath us, plunging down into a massive auditorium filled with people. We floated along the top balcony, staring down into the room. It was some kind of theater, though I wasn’t sure this was any theater I wanted to be in. Images played in front of each person on a personalized screen. Nobody seemed to notice the others around them.

“Welcome to the Eternal Torment, believed by the Elves to be the worst place imaginable,” the Ferryman said.

I peered at the closest screens, and I could make out stories playing across them. The Elf below us seemed glued to his screen. In moments, I watched the same Elf abandon his family and make a new one, only to lose them both. Sad music played, and the scene ended with the Elf kneeling in the rain at the graves of the people he’d lost. The Elf who observed his life’s mistakes playing out before him appeared hollow, as if he was unable to stop witnessing the biggest errors of his existence play out on repeat.

Beside him, an Elf woman sobbed as she watched herself enter a room over and over again, only to hear the words, “You’re too late. He’s already passed.” Her greatest mistake in life was that she hadn’t gotten there in time to say goodbye to the man she loved, and she was forced to never stop reliving it.

“Here in the Eternal Torment, the Elves must watch their own mistakes in life, and be reminded of every choice they made that turned out to be wrong in the end,” the Ferryman said.

What an absolutely horrible fate. The scenes continued to play out in dark tones, accompanied by melancholy music. I observed an Elvish woman sob as she watched herself onscreen, begging her past self not to go to the beach.

The woman on the screen didn’t listen. She took her child to the beach, and she turned away for a moment while her child climbed the rocks. The child slipped into the water, and by the time she realized what had happened, her son had already drowned.

Next to her, an Elvish healer clutched at his throat, observing as he administered the wrong medicine by mistake, and his patient died. Another Elf wept as he saw his past self onscreen say the wrong thing, only for his closest friend to take their own life soon after. On and on it went.

It was heart-wrenching to watch, and I had to turn away. To have no other choice but to relive all the most torturous parts of your life for all eternity… there was no worse punishment.

Talia leaned over the side of the boat, watching with interest. “Their greatest fear is to make mistakes?”

“No. Their greatest fear is that they cannot be forgiven once a mistake is made,” the Ferryman said. “But these screens show only one perspective. It doesn’t show exactly how things played out, but what these Elves believe happened. If they changed their internal beliefs, the screen would change, and they could leave this torment behind.”

The music on one of the screens changed, and the scene became brighter. It was the woman who hadn’t made it in time to say goodbye to the man she loved.

The Elvish woman stood and spoke to herself in a shaking tone. “No. I won’t do this. I cannot continue to blame myself for not making it in time. I got there as fast as I could, and no amount of replaying the scenario will change what happened. We had three-hundred wonderful years together. I will not let our love be reduced to this moment, because we were so much more than this.”

Images of their life together flashed across the scene, until the scene slowed. This time, it showed her kneeling at his bedside. Though her lover was already gone, she spoke the words she’d intended to say all along. “I loved you dearly, and I pray to the Goddesses that you find peace in the Blessed Haven. I will meet with you again soon, my love.”

“I belong with my love,” she said. “I forgive myself for the mistakes I made, and I will choose a better future.”

A bright light appeared behind her, and I had to shield my eyes. The woman stepped into the light, and as it faded, she disappeared.

I gazed around at the other Elves, expecting them to notice and follow her lead, but nobody even stole a glance in her direction.

“Where did she go?” Grant asked.

“She has ascended to the Blessed Haven,” the Ferryman answered. “All she needed to do was change her perspective and choose to leave her regret behind. Once she was able to forgive herself, she could enter heavenly bliss.”

It was beautiful watching her ascend, but I felt bad for the other Elves. They didn’t understand they could go with her, if they only forgave themselves for their mistakes.

We reached the end of the balcony, and a door opened. Ahead, skyscrapers loomed against a black sky, and sirens blared in the distance. We floated from the red carpet into a narrow murky brown river that smelled of sewage. Garbage floated alongside us. I pinched my nose shut as I glanced around the city streets and shadowed alleyways.

“Where are we?” Lucas asked.

“This is a place only known by name to the vampires who reside here,” the Ferryman said.

We were in a modern city, but it was as if a warzone had broken out many years ago and we were peering into a dystopian future, at a time when all residents had given up hope. Most of the windows on the tall skyscrapers had been shattered, and the smaller buildings closest to the river were all boarded up. A car had been abandoned in the middle of the road, and it was on fire. Above us, a helicopter whirred loudly, and a spotlight swept through the city in pursuit of criminals. The streets were mostly deserted, but we could see people moving through the shadows. I heard explosions somewhere inside the city, and smoke rose through the air.

Glass shattered as someone threw a liquor bottle at a nearby building. Someone ran out of the building yelling obscenities. The vandal took off down the street, and the sound of tires squealed in the distance.

As we continued down the river, another street came into view. A female in a short, tight dress approached a man in a leather jacket. They barely exchanged words before he wrapped an arm around her waist. His fangs flashed against the light from a flickering streetlamp, and he sank his teeth into her neck. The woman threw her head back, appearing to enjoy the sensation as her own fangs elongated.

In the next alleyway, pained grunts rang out over the street. We witnessed a group of five men kicking and punching another vampire, until the victim stopped moving completely. The five vampires jumped on the man and began to feed.

I turned toward the Ferryman. “Is there no way to help him?”

“You will be slaughtered if you step foot off this boat,” the Ferryman said. “These vampires cannot be saved.”

One of the vampires feeding lifted his head and sniffed the air. His head jerked in our direction, and his eyes flashed red. I gave a start, but we were already past them a moment later.

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