“Ugh,” scratching his brows, Matsya sat up. Looking around the sterile environment left his view walled off by curtains.

  “Awake?” A boy asked behind the curtain to Matsya’s right.

  “Monaha?”

  “Yeah, how are you feeling?” Monaha’s voice was rather scratchy.

  “Fine I suppose, but where are we, and are you alright?”

  “We’re just in one of the off branch nursing ducts. We’re the only ones still recovering, the others somehow got up after a day.”

  “So it’s just been a day…”

  “Pull this curtain back so I can talk to ya better.”

  Monaha explained the events that took place, at least to the best of what he could provide. Some parts missing from the whole, either way, Matsya understood the gist of it.

  “Oh man,” Matsya laid back, his eyes still exhausted. Let me help you, Matsya… “Hah, learned to keep it in my mind, huh?”

  “What did you say?” Monaha asked.

  “Nothing…” “Nothing you say, Matsya. I can help you, I can…” “Actually, Monaha, can you hear her?”

  “Who?”

  “You say you can help me. How?”

  You are kin with the water, you are kin…he wants you to touch the other side, because you are kin with the water.

  “Matsya, who are you talking to?” Monaha gave a sidelong look.

  “I’m leaving…”

  “Matsya! Cough, cough! Where…?”

  “I’m leaving…you can help me, can’t you?” “Yes, Matsya…” Black sludge surfaced underneath Matsya’s bed. The white room soon flooded with black water. “Ah, I can breathe.”

  One week prior to Jaromir’s death: The bridge to Gehenna’s gate.

  Matsya walked by the shore, rod in hand. Turning, he saw the man named Dushyanta. Matsya’s lips parted ever slowly, words could not escape. The line of the horizon began to bend, the ocean’s waves froze, light parted on the merry wheat of the rocky sands. Matsya Fartford was never allotted much. A sorry fellow with the lips of a fish and the eyes of a hawk-owl. Grey sand clung to his legs, frazzled hair damaged by the humid air.

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  “There are two lands, the border and the line. Beyond the line is the gate to Gehenna, if one traverses to the edge of Gehenna they may be reborn into the World. Child of the river, one must achieve one great deed to touch a pillar. You are a fisherman, no? So catch the mightiest of sea creatures, Leviathan, summon of the great sorcerer of old,” Dushyanta said.

  One hour prior to Jaromir’s death:

  Running, the bridge melted at its infinite length. Drifting through the murky abyss, the water of midnight is scary, no? Matsya pushed one leg in front of the other, each step took him closer to sinking. Snared into an impossible endeavor, where to go, touching the end.

  “Is this the end…?” “Indeed, congratulations, son…” The woman’s voice faded, the murky water began to move again. Its static imagery mirrored the stars looking down. “What could these vast waters look like from there, so high…mere ants, mere crumbs of sand. How long will the winds blow,” Matsya said whilst pushing open the gate.

  Emptiness, Matsya took a step down the unseen staircase. Ladders of hands stretched out, wings bloomed from bleached coral, skulls cackled, and the scent of salt rose up into Matsya’s sinuses. Chained and coiled at the bottom of the icy well, was a serpent as vast as the sky, its scales crackled with lightning, its whorish breath shook the oceans, its gale-like eyes kept the glaciers afloat; the dragon Leviathan.

  “My blood, my flesh, born of one of my scales with a mortal. My grandson, why grace me with your presence?” Leviathan spoke in the warm care of a grandfather looking at his newborn grandson.

  “I offer you freedom within my control,” Matsya said, lifting his fishing pole up to point.

  “You wish to harness my power, and I must possess that mortal made junk? You laugh behind quiet eyes, leave me… My patience has only been provided for our shared blood…”

  “I can’t go back without you, I must become stronger.”

  “Boy, you are foolish, cursed by what has followed you…look behind you,” Leviathan breathed a door that opened to the presence of Dushyanta. “Look what you have brought, what you have cast, a wraith sits in our midst.”

  “I figured you weren’t trust worthy, but I never thought you evil,” Matsya looked down, his chest punctured by a pike of immense darkness.

  “Your mother was strong, sadly she succumbed to difficulties in her youth that resulted in you. I knew with how you were conceived that you would have a key to a portion of Gehenna. All I needed was your motivation to act on it. Now you lead me to him, one of the four princes,” Dushyanta gently took Matsya’s fishing rod. Matsya fell, blood splattered out, his eyes fading with light. “You will join me, king of the seas.” Leviathan had no will to resist, forcibly possessing the fishing rod. “Soon, very soon…Matsya, I’m sorry. In a way, you were like my very own son, but I must bring true peace, even if it means a few sacrifices.

  “Matsya…Matsya…can you hear me?” A soft voice called out.

  “Mother…” Matsya muttered.

  “Matsya be safe on the other side…”

  Matsya rose up in a hospital bed once again, sweat drowning his body. Panting and sterile, he glanced over his left shoulder, there a window, in the subtle reflection Matsya could see his face. Clasping his jaw and nose, Matsya quickly realized something was wrong.

  “Who is this? Who am I?” Turning his wrist as if to know what would be on it, were words written along his arm. “If you see this, know we have done the impossible…my god…” Matsya’s eyes widened, he continued… ‘We have done the impossible…congratulations, my Otie.’ “Who is Otie…?” Otie looked at the other peachy toned arm, and one word was written, “Ayihcah…” Like a bolt of lightning running through his back, Otie spun to the top of a cell tower, his eyes glazing over a vast city. “Ah, that’s right, Matsya…you were killed too, but why can’t I remember… Jaromir, do you know…Jaromir, hey, Jaromir! This isn’t funny man, where are you?”

  Otie stammered from skyline to skyline, down pipes of sludge, oil and lightning lighting flames abound. Running through white halls, his figure shook with the cackles of laughter. Bonking his head into a medic, Otie stumbled back.

  “Woah, slow down kid. Hmm, patients shouldn’t be out right now, what’s your room number?” Netil asked. “Let me guide you back.”

  “I’m not a patient…I’m…”

  “It’s alright Otie, protect them, for me…nothing else, promise me…” The whisper of smoky light held out its hand. Otie reached out, but when he took the hand it vanished.

  Jaromir, is that really all you want, but what about Matsya… No, I have a duty, I must protect them…from whomever the culprit, or culprits may be. “I’m actually being discharged, could you help me to the front, please?” Otie asked Netil with a smile as bright as an angel.