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[b][sub]LORD of the DEATH-ROAD | WATCHER | DEATHDART | SHEPHERD of SOULS | MASTER of the SCALES of JUSTICE
SOVEREIGN of the AFTERWORLD | LORD of SOULS[/sub][/b]

[sub]&[/sub]

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[h1][sub]ROSALIND[/sub][/h1]
[b][sub]RAGING ROSA | THE DANCE-DEMON | FEVERFOOT | LEAPING LINDA[/sub][/b]

[img]https://www2.gvsu.edu/vangm/backgroundsandotherpictures/pinkrosevine.gif[/img][/centre]
That is how hell was on Rosalind. While some may be immediately put off by its ghastliness and consider it an altogether unpleasant thing, or perhaps drive themselves into the doldrums thinking how terrible it is that such a place should exist, that is all by the by. It remains one of the least studied and explored places, and is naturally of great interest to the avid cosmologer. While the ethical and moral virtues of its existence are to some suspect and to others self-evident, it is not an area of enquiry into which I would now like to delve. No matter the position one seeks to take regarding it, there can be no other position regarding its existence except acceptance of the truth of it. 

Now Rosalind, as mentioned, got to sobbing her eyes out right where Kohshello had left her, by the entrance to the Grey. This inbetween-place, a waiting station that is neither hell nor paradise, is interesting only insofar as its introspective qualities go. It does not appear to have any special features as such, but appears to its denizens as a plain - I would not say shabby - place. It inspires neither joy nor sorrow, but only introspective reflection. All who leave are made more aware than they have ever been of their great failure when it comes to the ultimate purpose of life.

Consider Rosalind, who eventually was ushered in by the strict and matronly Simsillia, the vahura charged with wardenship of the Grey. Rosalind’s sobbing came to a halt almost as soon as she stepped through the grey door - all feelings of sorrow, suffering, fear, terror and whatever remained in her of hell, simply vacated her mind and chest, and a blankness overtook her and her eyes dried. 

The Matron sat her on a bench, dressed her in a plain white robe, and left her staring blankly across a field of black grass - not grass, when Rosalind looked closely, but twilight hair. She did not question it, did not consider it ugly or beautiful. It simply was. There were no hills and there was no horizon. The plain simply stretched on eternally, and she saw eternally. And here is the thing about eternity: in eternity we see how the material becomes the conceptual. Now mortal minds cannot comprehend this, but as Rosalind looked on across that eternal plain, she found that somehow, though she did not know where, that plain stopped being material and became conceptual, and she was suddenly staring not across the plain but across infinity; she was staring across and into a concept. I don’t want to ramble on, I understand that many may not quite comprehend this, and it is not an important point really. Just know that Rosalind looked into this incomprehensible conceptual [i]thing[/i].

I have mentioned that the Grey inspires only introspection, and this is exactly how it does it. When you are staring into an incomprehensible concept, your mind immediately wanders off to the only thing in all that [i]stuff[/i] that it can comprehend: itself. So yes, Rosalind found herself staring into herself. Her life played out again and again before her. That’s all that happened. She saw her birth, saw Iqelis laughing at her, saw herself whirling off into space, saw herself collide with Yudaiel, saw the terrible dance that resulted and the merging of their beings, saw the coming of her father and his words of reprimand, how he gifted her the bangles, saw how her unconscious body wandered off, saw how she collided with the moon and how Yudaiel forgave her, saw the boat she was gifted and her descend to Galbar in it. She saw it all, again and again. A thousand times perhaps, ten thousand - as many times as is required for true knowledge. She became, to use our own terms, an expert on matters Rosalind, something of a rosalindologist.

That kind of introspection is difficult. She lay herself bare before herself and saw herself for all her beauty and ugliness, for all her vices and virtues, stripped of all the illusions of the world. That’s how. That is the sort of stuff that drives people insane if done in the material world, but the Grey is not the material world and so such things are possible there. A mortal can go their entire life and never cast an inward glance, never know who they are at all; in the Grey all things are laid bare and there is no escape from oneself. Now I don’t know what others think, but I don’t know if what we saw of hell is worse, or this. If we consider that Kohshello attested that hell existed inside Rosalind long before she entered hell, then what is the Grey but a venture into the truest hell of all?

Anyhow, it is a very odd place the Grey, and all we can say of it with certainty is what I have said here. Rosalind’s memories are so garbled and unreadable beyond this; make of it what you please.

She did not stay in there eternally, of course - the Grey is but a stopping station before mortal reincarnation - so in time the Matron Simsillia returned and took her by the shoulders. Rosalind moved in a daze at the vahura’s bidding, and eventually found herself standing in line before a cloaked figure. He was not so dissimilar to the shades she had seen before - hooded and dark. But he differed in grandeur, and had two pinpricks of blue beneath his hood of darkness. He inspected the lined souls one by one, and sent them out through a white gate with his blessings, until he came to Rosalind and looked down at her.

He paused and his blue eyes narrowed. Rosalind stumbled towards the door, but his hand descended gently on her shoulder and he walked her from the door. “You have been to hell, have you not?” He asked her as they crossed the eternal plain of black grass-hair.
“Y-yes.” She said simply, as he walked her even across the sky she had not known existed in that odd grey plain. 
“And on entering it, what were the joys of life to you?” He asked.
“Joys?” She asked in confusion. “What joys? Hell taught me that I never tasted joys.” He did not respond, and they finally arrived at a vast lake of iridescent splendour. Rosalind looked at it and thought she saw people inside it, thought she saw fields, thought she saw bliss. She glanced up at the shade. “What is this place?” She asked.
“That there is paradise, Rosalind.” He said.
 “Paradise?” She repeatedly dumbly, not understanding. “Why are we here?” The shade glanced at her and gestured for her to come to him. She obeyed. He placed his hand on her head and she found herself suddenly in his grasp - her body had shrunk and he held her between his gloved thumb and forefinger. Without a word, he dipped her into the lake for the shortest second, then brought her out. She sat in his palm and was still.
“Have you ever known sorrow, Rosalind? Have you ever known misfortune or pain? Have you known any of that?” The shade asked. The twilight-haired woman looked up with a contagious bright smile.
“I’ve only ever known bliss,” she laughed, “in my whole life I never knew suffering or woe!”
The shade nodded. “Yes. That’s how it is. That’s how it is.”

They left the lakeside and he took her with him until they emerged out of a massive tree, and he placed her down - whereupon she returned to her normal size - and sat before her in the tree’s hollow. She sat by him - for the hollow was wide enough - and looked on the green plain before them. “This isn’t paradise.” Rosalind stated plainly.
“No. This is but a waystation on the way.” The shade said.
“Are you a god?” Rosalind asked, turning her head to him.
“I am. And you are too, Rosalind.” The shade said. Rosalind chuckled incredulously.
“No no, I’m not a god. I thought I was - a very long time ago it feels like - but now I know.” There was no pain or loss in her voice.
“It may be as you say, but it remains the fact that despite all that - perhaps because of all of that - you are a god. You are our sibling. You emerged from the Monarch of All. You are a god, Rosalind.” The shade told her.
“I don’t understand how that can be. I’m not like the gods, I know that now.” Rosalind mused.
“The gods are not alike for you to be like them.” The shade said simply. “You are a god in your own way. And our sister in every way.”
“Then… why am I so weak?” She asked, her brows furrowing. The shade looked at her, his eyes of blue faint and wide - warm, even.
“You are not weak, Rosalind.”
“Why am I so cowardly?” She continued.
“Many cowards pass through my court; you are no coward, Rosalind.” The shade told her.
“But I failed - I failed the trial. I went to hell for it.”
“That was due to an oversight on my part. It is clear to me that hell should not be a consequence of failing the trials - it creates injustice. There must be judgement for all. I will have to rework things. You have made me aware of this, Rosalind, and I thank you for that. Forgive me for all that you suffered.” The shade glanced at her with quiet contrition. Rosalind only smiled.
“It’s okay, all sorrow and suffering seem so small after paradise. I feel dumb even calling it suffering - that’s such a serious word.” She paused. “But you know, don’t you think people should know? I’m sure if everyone knew how wonderful paradise was they’d all want to go. And if they knew how awful hell was they’d want to avoid it.”
The shade cocked his head at her. “You raise a very good point there, sister. I… didn’t really think about it. Perhaps it would be fair to make mortalkind aware of the existence of these places and tell them how they can gain one and avoid the other. But I would hate to leave these my domains to do such a thing.” He cast his blue eyes across the plain.
“Well, you could just send someone instead of you. Like an envoy or a delegate. In fact-” Rosalind got to her feet suddenly, excited, “how about I choose someone. Someone who will be your envoy to all mortalkind, forever!” She looked at the shade, who rose and nodded.
“That’s agreeable to me.”

They watched together, then, as the souls of mortalkind wandered through the underworld on their way to judgement. Sinners and saints passed by, but Rosalind’s eye was not drawn to any, those who had been male and those who had been female, those who had died young and those old, those who had been killed and those who had perished in accidents; all sorts passed. At last, however, a little soul came crawling by - an infant - and Rosalind immediately jumped out and brought it to her chest. It had been a boy in life and when it looked at her there was curiosity and dignity only, and perhaps a smile. “But he’s just a child.” Rosalind said, kissing his ethereal brow.
“Hmm,” the shade mused, “killed, it seems.”
Rosalind looked up at him in shock. “Killed, bu who-”
“Zima…” the shade whispered with a sigh, more to himself than to Rosalind.
“I- I don’t understand, is that a-”
“No matter, it’s no matter. So you think this one is fit to be my eternal delegate?” The shade considered the child, and Rosalind looked down at him too, then smiled.
“Yeah, I like him.” And even as she spoke the child’s white luminescence took on a golden-red hue, and his light became something altogether divine.
“Then he shall be our delegate. He will go to mortalkind, warn them of hell and tell them the good news of paradise, and he will tell them how to avoid the Asheln Plains and gain the Elysian Fields. Is that fair to you, sister?”
Rosalind looked at the shade with a broad smile and nodded. “They’ll love him.” She brought him to her and rained little kisses on his brow, cheeks, lips, and held him tightly to her bosom. The shade looked at her quietly, but if he thought otherwise he did not say anything.
“Give him to me, I will take care of things from here.” The shade said at last, and Rosalind looked at him uncertainly.
“Can’t he stay with me?” She asked.
“If he is to be our envoy to mortalkind, he must go out as one of them; he must gain their trust and live among them, and he must then warn them. They will trust someone who grows among them more than a stranger who comes with wild claims.” The shade explained.
“Oh… that makes sense, I guess. But I’ll get to see him again, right?” She looked at the shade with furrowed brows.
“Of course, there is nothing to prevent that.” He assured. Somewhat contented, Rosalind handed the golden child over to the shade. The child giggled and kissed his cheeks at Rosalind as she passed him on, and the woman could not help the joyous grin that spread across her face. “I will return you to your body now, sister.” The shade said, stepping away from her.
“Oh, okay. But you’ve not told me your name.” She looked at him expectantly as he raised a hand and drew a doorway for her, then cast it open.
“Names are an odd thing.” The shade mused. “But I’m Voi, if you like.”
“Oh,” the woman gasped, “I… knew that.” There was a happy sort of realisation on her face. “But it’s good to hear it from you anyway. Look after my little Earohana.”
“Earohana?” The divine shade asked.
“Yes. My beloved one.” Rosalind affirmed. The shade nodded silently and placed a hand on his chest in farewell.
“Until the threads of time bring us together once more, sister.” Voi said.
Rosalind nodded. “Goodbye, Voi.” Her eyes not leaving the golden Earohana, she disappeared through the doorway.


[centre][img]https://www2.gvsu.edu/vangm/backgroundsandotherpictures/pinkrosevine.gif[/img][/centre]
[list][*][hider=Summary]Rosalind experiences the Grey. It is a place of ultimate introspection. She then meets Voi. He dips her in paradise. They then talk. Voi realises that his system is not working correctly if someone like Roslaind ended up in hell. He plans to fix it. Rosalind tells him he should let mortalkind know about all this so that they can actually have a chance of avoiding hell and going to heaven. He thinks that’s fair, but doesn’t like the idea of doing it personally. She says they can send an envoy. Rosalind chooses a baby, apparently killed by Zima, as the delegate of destiny. She calls him Earohana, which is derived from the Maori for ‘beloved one’.[/hider]
[*][hider=Vigour]Rosalind: 9 Vigour
[indent]1 Vigour: Create Champion. Earohana is the Eternal Envoy of Voi and the Beloved One of Rosalind. He will repeatedly incarnate into the world to different people and, when grown, will tell people about the afterlife and how to live in such a way as to avoid hell and enter heaven. While Rosa named him Earohana, his name will naturally change with each incarnation as his parents name him.
Rosalind: 8 Vigour remaining[/indent][/hider][/list]