Where Spirits Dwell

Jordan’s surroundings began to blur all around him. He soon found himself in a landscape of pure white. He felt his emotions quite inside him, this place seemed have an aura of peace. The woman appeared in front of him, seeming more solid than before, but still exuding an almost celestial presence. She gestured towards him.

“This is the place all the pacts between humans and spirits have taken place for centuries. It will hide your presence; this place cannot be breached by any means. Now come to me.”

He walked towards her, when he was a few paces away she held up a hand, stopping him.
“You can still choose to not do this. Nobody can force you into a pact. I have spoken of the many warnings not joining with me will have but it is your choice. Come no closer, unless you are sure of your choice.”

He stared straight at her and took a step forward, then another and another, finally he was beside her. He grabbed her hand, surprised at its solidity, and looked her straight in the eye, “I’m ready.”

She smiled at him, an assuring look. Then her grip tightened on his hand and she began repeating arcane incantations. As she chanted the air around them began to pulsate, as if it were alive. Flickers of light began spinning and taking shape. When his focus returned to her she was holding a stark white, almost elegant knife.

“We must now seal the pact with blood. Prepare yourself.”

Before he had time to react, a spasm of pain traveled up his arm. He looked at his wrist to see a crimson mist flowing out of it, filling the air around them. The spirit began to chant louder and faster. His head spun, darkness threatening. Then with one final shout from the woman it all stopped, the pain, the lights, and the haze of red.

Her face came into focus one more time, worry battling with nurture, across her face, “Rest, you will need all of your strength.”

With that Jordan stopped fighting and fell into a much needed sleep.