Donemeikadail eka nei
Sha fisde'werise hevain
Mi whe lyuefenva tluasei.
I look up, and I see Light: that which brings hope to lost ones, and that which brings life to the dying.
I look to my feet, suspended above infinite blackness. There, no light shines, yet still things live, their very existence perverse and against the will of the Gods. I shudder, for this endless sea of hell waits to envelop me, as it has so many before me. My hearts beat more slowly, contemplating the truth of their own weakness. I know there is no escaping the void, and the void knows this too, taunts me with its restraint.
My lungs are crying, the life being sucked out of them by the cold, oppressive black. They are not meant for this netherworld, nor am I.
Yet being one of the Gifted, I have no choice but to hope, to hope that somehow I might escape death's grip for another minute. Each minute must I think of his power, and as many times must I deny that he holds me in his claws. Thus, I look to the Sun once more, and I kick my feet and undulate my tail, knowing at once that I will and won't break the surface.
I am right on both counts.
Stepping onto the soft golden shores of this alien place, I realize that the Sun I had trusted knows me not, and I know not it. For it wears a cloak of orange, not one of blue, and I know that a star has no will to deceive. This Sun's, no, this Star's, indifferent honesty is like a blow to the jaw, and bitterness spreads across my tongue.
When finally I look once more to the land, my gaze falls upon something the likes of which I have never beheld. It seems as though a false God wishes to torment me, for that which I see is incomprehensible, and so it is profound, and so it is also terrifying. What it is, I cannot say, and this is far worse than knowing it a Demon. Whether its will is holy, I cannot know, and this is far worse than knowing it to loathe me.
I know not why I feel as I now do, for surely this monster has been sent by the depths of the Void as fodder for many nightmares to come. Nor can I describe my feelings to any breathing being, except to say that this creature evokes in me that which I feel when Omenuetilin himself stands before me. Without taking my eyes from the creature's, I tear off a shred of my nightgown and tie it across my mouth, for that feels like what must be done. Never shall it be said that I disrespected a God, even if it is said of something with an unfathomable nature such as this.
Then, a thought occurs to me: I have already committed a grave sin, in that this being has yet gone without greeting or pleasantry.
In hasty remedy, I fall forward, holding my own chest and kneeling so that my face might touch the ground. Hello, I think, and the words which exit my lips convey this simple word's nuances better than any language might. Be you God or Devil, may you know this much: My name is Kidanlera di Kidayale Vesal, and I kneel in awe of you.