Umar of Sadina, Grandmaster Assassin of the Order, had died.
As soon as he felt the disconnect of his body and mind, he became aware of the dreadful fact.
He should have been scared, especially as he was unable to move either his body or mind as his body was stuck between the two worlds.
The world of the living and the world of ideas.
His gaze landed on those who failed to land the killing blow. He had gathered all his most powerful assassins, his Shadows and Master Assassins, yet even their overwhelming numbers that should have been able to take over a fortress had failed to kill him. Yes, his death was not in the hands of others, but his own.
Enlightenment, their ancestral magic, required an… elevated mind. He still felt the hashish coursing through his body even if the separation between his mind and body grew larger with each second. But it wasn''t just the hashish he could feel. There was also the opium, the cocaine, the peyote, the tobacco, and heavens knew what else he had put inside of his system.
Who would have thought that death would make his memory faulty?
Umar felt more defined, more himself, when the assassins observed his lingering entity. Ah, his mind was projected into the world of the living and his body into the realm of thoughts for the shortest and utmost glorious of moments.
Soon, the bridge between the two worlds snapped. He had lasted long in the world of the living after his death, and that was commendable but alas, it had been in vain.
Dead men had no affairs in the world of the living.
Still, he refused to truly die.
He was Umar, the mightiest of the Grandmasters, the only person who had rivaled the ferocious Sultanah Aaliyah-al-Ydaz during his youth, and he wouldn''t give death an easy prey.
Even though he was fully immersed now in the world of ideas, he still could peer into the world of the living. The chamber was poorly detailed as he no longer had eyes and his sight gained a grey and cyan coloration, but the assassins in the room were a whole other business.
Living people were not visible in the world of ideas like objects were. Umar had known that since his youth when he witnessed the first steps to Apotheosis through the Greater Understanding. Objects were defined in the world of ideas through observation. The more an item was observed, the more defined and accurate it became. That was why his corpse was currently the most detailed object in the room.
It was a surreal experience seeing his body from the outside. And its detail was even more uncanny. He could see with precision every strand of hair, every wrinkle, every slight imperfection.
All the attention of his assassins was placed on his body, after all.
Unlike his corpse, he couldn''t see their features except for their eyes. Glowing orbs of the foulest red. People were fluid things in the world of ideas, and unless they were getting outrageous amounts of attention, they would remain that way. But… the assassins didn''t play by the same rules.
Enlightenment allowed assassins to partially step into the world of ideas at all times. Tobacco helped even more with its emphatic magic. That understanding and presence were visualized through those red eyes of theirs. Bloodshot from all the drugs in their bodies.
The room emptied after a while, some of the assassins carried his corpse away, but one person remained.
His nephew and heir, Tareek.
Even if he hadn''t participated in the fight that could have marked Umar''s Apotheosis and he hadn''t consumed many substances, his eyes still lingered with a powerful red.
"I know you are still there," he voiced out with her powerful young voice.
Perks of a hashashid. Umar mused because he was unable to talk in his current form, but the boy and the new Master of the Order of Sadina had gotten the message, nonetheless.
Hashashid were those born of assassin parents. Their natality was low and their birth uncommon as both parents had to be high during the whole conception, but in exchange for such difficult labor that would have rendered any other babe a retard, they were born with an uncanny mastery of Enlightenment.
Both his nephew and he were hashashid, though the boy had always had stronger blood than him.
"What are you going to do now that the Apotheosis has failed?" Tareek inquired as he circled around the underground chamber.
I''m afraid, I don''t know, Umar didn''t fake answers, for he had none. Everyone hated those old men from fairy tales that spoke in riddles. Alas, I''m the first assassin that has gotten this far into the Apotheosis. I may have failed to ascend my mind, but as long as I linger on the world of ideas as a shadow of my mind, I will keep trying.
The young assassin shrugged. "Feel free to do whatever you please, old man. You left me quite the task back in the world of the living. There''s going to be a war, you know?"
Umar nodded but snorted. Can you blame an old man for dying of old age?
"If you call suffering a heart attack from an overdose dying of old age, sure," Tareek snorted. "Can''t blame the geezers for having fun, eh?"
The dead assassin punched the living one, but his fist went through the misty self of Tareek. He was well aware that people in the world of ideas couldn''t interact with anything, not this world, not the one of the living. The gesture was meant as symbolic more than anything.
"It''s been a pleasure being your disciple, Umar," Tareek stated in a weird burst of seriousness. "But our paths diverge here. May you have luck in your quest."
He could have said many things, he wanted to say many things, but a lump appeared in his non-existent throat. The dead were not supposed to bid farewell to the living, but he couldn''t leave like that. He had raised that boy; he had been his father for lack of one. So he simply nodded and mustered a ''Thank you''.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
He was left alone in the chamber where he had died.
***
Being the only ''living'' person in the whole world was a solitary existence. Umar could walk unimpeded into any house in any city as walls were only suggestions in the world of ideas. Mist instead of items, conceptions of what should and should not be.
It was… weird to describe. In a way, his own descriptions shaped the world around him.
Reality was perception. Perception was reality.
The whole world has this greyscale for each item, but when one looked closer at the engravings, the imperfections, and the chipping of every surface, one could see the inlays of cyan. The world of thoughts was a dull one of greys, but sometimes, even the dullest thoughts had an intellectual glint of cyan.
Traveling was also rather simple as the world of ideas was formed from the mental imprints people left on items. Ydaz was a desert and mostly uncharted beyond its main roads. That was an advantage for him as if he walked outside of the roads, suddenly the world became smaller. A single step into an unperceived desert could lead him farther than days down the road.
He moved from assassin order to assassin order in search of answers. Alas, he was the greatest of pioneers, and even if he managed to contact some of the more… open Grandmasters, they were even more clueless than him.
Assassins weren''t the answer, so Umar did the unthinkable and visited the cultivators.
The imperial family of Ydaz could cultivate their body and make themselves mightier than a hundred men, but they were children compared to the assassins in matters of the mind. Still, children could sometimes provide great insights from their special point of view.
He stalked the capital of Asina and its golden palace for answers, trying to see if the magic of the imperials could bring him any answer, but his effort failed to bear fruit. Nurture wasn''t the answer either.
Even the mighty Aaliyah, who had no footing in the world of ideas yet her body shone like a second sun from might alone, couldn''t grant him any insight.
He was alone. And he was dying.
Again.
Reality was based on perception, and nobody could perceive him any longer. Even now for the keenest of assassins, he was nothing more than a whisper.
His time was running out.
Ah, I wish I had some hashish… Umar mused as he walked the streets of a random Ydazi city. He had gone over through the whole continent by now, but home always called him. He couldn''t withstand the wooden houses of Loyata or the stone holes of Seviren. Only he felt comfortable with the mud and sandstone buildings of Ydaz.
So this is where my existence ends, in oblivion, in a random bazaar… He let out a chuckle. It was quite an amusing jest. I would be lying if I didn''t say I didn''t overstay my welcome. Death should have caught up to me weeks ago.
Then, out of nowhere, a change.
Not that of the moving passersby that were nothing more than whisps of mist as people didn''t tend to observe each other, making them infinitely less defined than the world that surrounded them. No, something different. Something… alive.
"What are you doing here?" Umar asked the newcomer.
"Where is ''here''?" The petite girl questioned.
Yes, he recognized that girl. She was the granddaughter of his late friend Karaim. He hadn''t interacted much with the girl, but those emerald eyes oozing with life were unforgettable. Even in the realm of ideas, she looked as alive as in the world of the living.
"We are in the… world of ideas. Where the thoughts and dreams lay." As he spoke, the cracks in his misty form began mending themselves. Perception… he realized. "But you shouldn''t be here, Aloe Ayad." A moment of clarity allowed him to remember her name.
"How do you know me?" The girl, Aloe, thrashed around but she soon became aware of her lack of body. Unlike him, she was just a living trespassing into the domain of those who weren''t. "What''s happening to me?" She cried in distress.
"I already told you; we are in the world of thoughts. And you are… well, your own mind. Your cognition, if you will." Yes, that was what he was. A cognition. A remnant. The shadow of a Shadow.
"That makes…" She cut her words, but he understood the complete sentence. She was experiencing it, the Greater Understanding was flowing to her, and by proximity, to him.
Forbidden knowledge, unspoken words, unborn wisdom, blind colors, unsung songs… it all flowed into him. Umar hoarded the information for himself leaving the woman unaware. For some reason, the Greater Understanding was favoring her, but he didn''t have the strength to ponder those questions. Perception took energy, and energy was thoughts in this world. The more he thought, the shorter he could his life.
He had to absorb every kernel of knowledge the Greater Understanding was trickling down of them without pondering, otherwise, he would disappear again if he tried answering those questions.
"Answer my other question," the living girl said with a hint of rage.
Umar chuckled. "Hustle your memory a bit."
He couldn''t give straight answers, he couldn''t gift information. For better or worse, he had to become the worst type of character in a story: the prophet who spoke in riddles. That was the only way to conserve his energies whilst keeping the ones he obtained from Aloe''s perception of him.
"Umar?" His friend''s granddaughter responded.
"Yes and no," he kept the riddle act. "I am Umar''s… cognitive imprint. He''s long gone, and I''ll be gone myself not long from now. Maybe another year if I manage to fight cognitive decay."
"What''s happening?" Her emerald eyes portrayed fear.
"You should tell me that," the dead assassin shrugged. That got the girl thinking for a bit more, gifting him more… cognitive presence. "I am the lasting remnant of a powerful mind, and you are… quite the pathetic girl."
"Hey!" The young girl protested at the insult, which was exactly what he wanted. He could almost breathe in the perception of her rage.
"You don''t look nor feel like an imprint, you feel… alive," Umar mused almost to himself.
He was aware the girl hadn''t died, but how she was even here was a powerful mystery. A non-assassin shouldn''t be able to enter the world of ideas, not even the greatest cultivator of history had been able to perceive it. Though Aaliyah''s case was special considering her sheer presence altered the realm, making her the only living person capable of doing so.
"I am alive!" The being of mist and emerald eyes protested. "I was… dunes…" She cursed, unable to remember. That tended to happen in the world of ideas. One moment you were a whole mind, the next you were a vagrant in a sea of…
That''s it! Umar realized the Greater Understanding blessed him for one last time.
"It seems you have your answer, whatever it is. See you never again, I guess." He raised his hand to bid her farewell. He couldn''t spend any more time here, the shadow of the girl was becoming fainter by the second and she no longer provided him with any perception. He had to begin his journey now.
"Wait!" Umar stopped in his tracks and looked back at her. "You need to explain to me a lot of things. Too many in fact."
"I can''t waste my limited computational power answering your questions. The world of thoughts has been quite the enlightening experience, pun intended," he chuckled even if he wasn''t aware if the girl knew of Enlightenment. His late friend had kept his granddaughter in the dark, and for good reason. The world of the assassins was one of cruelty and dry farewells. "But I need all the strength I can muster if I still want to reach Apotheosis, even if I''m dead."
Still, he was not a monster and dropped her some clues in exchange for the insight she had unwittingly given him.
"Apotheosis? What are you talking about?" The misty shape of the girl stepped closer to him.
"Too late," he said. "Wake up."
As soon as he uttered those words, Aloe vanished from the world of ideas. Whether she was truly sleeping, in a drug-induced trance, or unconscious, he couldn''t know. He just guessed the only way for a living person to reach this far and this consciously into this realm was through a dreaming mind.
"Okay, Umar," he hyped himself. "Time for the journey of a lifetime."
He walked into the desert and changed his destination not for a sea of sand, but water. The answers waited for him beyond the uncharted seas of Khaffat. No matter what happened, even if he failed to reach Apotheosis again, he wouldn''t allow himself to reach true death. Even in his incomplete and faulty state, a shadow of his original self, Umar Sadina wouldn''t allow himself to disappear from this world.
After all, shadows never die.