It was the 3rd night after his death. I had woken up in the middle of the night, and I wasn't someone to do that frequently. Usually I sleep well, but I guess the grief has started consuming me. I'm restless, tired, and can't sleep. I pull down the covers and stare at the darkness of my ceiling, preparing to get out of bed. That's when I notice it. It wasn't something peculiar. It wasn't something normal, either. The darkness...... it seemed to reach out to me, asking me for help, calling my name....... wait. Was that him? Could that be- no it cannot. It just cannot. But the more I ignore it, the more it seems obvious. My brother, he's here, and he needs help. Help with what? Can I help him? Is he suffering? No, he was a good man, honest and virtuous, he could not have been put to suffer. I must do something. I must help him. ************************ The next morning I skip work, and instead head down to the Northgate alley, where resides a powerful man. I don't know what he is, but people call him a mystic. He is said to have freed people of possessions, casted spells on the Unholy, and even helped predict the future. I believe he is the best person to go to, so I waste no time and head into the small residential area. I knock on the door three times, before someone opens the door. "Yes, how may I help you?" "Its my brother, he has been judged wrongly, and..... um..... put to hell..... I have to do something." He smiles as if assuring me, motioning for me to come in. I do, and he offers me a seat. Suddenly his expression becomes stern, and he looks me in the eye. "You don't know what you're dealing with." "I do!" I protest. "Its my brother, he was a good person, and-" He cuts me off mid-sentence, and says "You have got somethings left to know about the world, my child." I think he was probably going to lecture me about demons taking the shape of your loved ones, to lure you into submission. But I know the person I saw, or felt, last night, had to be him. I just knew it. "I know what you are going to say, but trust me, it's-" He shakes his head sadly. "I'm afraid I can't help you." "What!" I stare in disbelief. "You are a mystic. You're my only hope!" He shakes his head again, and says, "I can help you in this realm, or the Other, but what you seek, will take you beyond Existence." And five minutes later, I'm standing outside in the alley, wondering, what could he have meant by the words - 'beyond Existence'?

Story is told by Oblivion