Light gently permeated this foreign place from incandescent pinheads in the far off distance, entire galaxies unknown to man spaced far yet not so few between. Clouds of gaseous blue and purple detonations mottled across this great beyond, surpassing the grasp of one’s ability to imagine it’s scope, let alone handle an understanding of such phenomena. My head, both light and lagging, revolved across this vast spacescape in awe, temporarily unaware of the absurdness of my situation as I sheepishly peered into the glory of both past and present. As my gaze descended my eyes caught my pale feet, wide and naked, firmly planted on an imperceptible plain. A torrent of ice began to stretch from behind my eyes up and backward, a measured waltz from neuron to the next which promptly dissipated as it’s travel found the nape of my neck. My lips curled as my mouth cracked in horror letting out a scream, a scream that came up silent as if I were an actor in one of those silent film reels I’d seen as a child.
Decimus’ chest heaved, his breath recouping from chase given to a hulking boar in hopes of preserving his wife and young boy in this, yet another dire Northumbrian winter. His step slowed further, the fallen snow tacitly giving way to his overly taxed boots as he squinted against the frigid wind, looking for a sign that his arrow had met its mark. It was then, upon a hearty maple trunk that Decimus caught the glint of the moon, glowing crimson in a spatter of the boar’s life-wine. Decimus turned his head high to the luminous celestial body, bold and bright among the bounty of sky-stretched stars, grateful for that which he could see but not understand.