It was dark. For that matter it was beyond dark. It was nothingness. No light, no sound, no touch, nothing at all. Or was it the other way? Was it that there was just so much of everything that she couldn't tell what anything was and it all kinda blurred together into a big blob of nothing like how if you mixed together all the colors of paint and got black? Cross wasn't sure.
Actually now that she thought about it Cross wasn't sure she actually had eyes. Or skin. Or any of that other fleshy stuff you use to sense things with. So maybe that was why there wasn't anything. Cross tried to raise her hand to her face to feel it. Nothing. No sensation of movement. No sensation of resistance either. Which lead to the obvious conclusion of not having an arm. Well that seems to support the "not having a body" idea. Cross pondered that and decided that she should probably be freaking out over that. But she wasn't. Huh. Odd. She thought about it some more, and thought about how she should probably be concerned by that. Ah! There it was! An inkling of concern. But not really. Maybe more like a remembrance of how concern felt. Still it was something. It felt more natural than not being worried about not having a body.
Then there was a voice. Sort of. Maybe more like the idea of a voice. Whatever it was it seemed friendly, though in a standoffish sort of way. "That is actually why you don't feel concern. Concern, fear, things like that, they come from biological process in the body. They are tied to pain. And since in most of the ways that matter you don't have a body right now you can't feel that. Only memories of the feelings remain."
Cross spoke, err wait no body so thought? Errr thought-spoke? Yeah that sounds good Cross decided. Thought-spoke. Cross thought-spoke back to the not-really-a-voice-thing. "Ummmm. Who are you exactly?"
"An old friend of the family I suppose" replied the not-really-a-voice-thing.
A friend of the family? Cross was pretty sure that that none of her family friends were not-really-a-voice-things. Though as she thought about it some more, Cross realized that she could not actually remember her family. Or anything really. Which was worrying.
"Worry about relations though, those are things much more closely tied to emotions. Those emotions are more tied to the soul than the body, so those remains to a greater degree."
Ahh. Well that explains that Cross thought. Hold up. "Wait. Are you reading my mind?" Cross thought-spoke to the not-really-a-voice-thing.
There was a ghost of a chuckle from the not-really-a-voice-thing. "In many ways here you are nothing but a mind. And here there is no real distinction between anything. Only those in which we believe."
Uhhhhhhh. Cross had no idea what the not-really-a-voice-thing was talking about. Thought-speaking about. Whatever.
"I do apologize. Things in places like this rarely make sense to people like you. It is the nature of your normal existence that you are unused to places like this. Should you have time, and I use that word in the loosest definition possible, to spend here you would grow to understand. But your time here is short. Already you begin to leave."
As the not-really-a-voice-thing said that Cross realized it was right. In some way she didn't have the words to describe it felt like she was starting to be elsewhere. It was weird. And probably would have been frightening. If ties to existence type stuff wasn't more of a fear of the body type thing than it was soul type thing?
"As good an explanation as any" answered the not-really-a-voice-thing. "I will do what I can to ensure you arrive safely, but there is little I can do. You're journey began in much less than ideal conditions, and I have little power here, less than even what power I have left where you began. And I have none where you go to now."
"Ahhh." Cross didn't really know what to say to that. Mostly cause very little made sense. Still, the not-really-a-voice-thing sure seemed friendly and had offered to help her. "That's ok. I'm glad you were here. Maybe we can meet again sometime?"
It felt like the not-really-a-voice-thing was smiling. "Maybe someday, though hopefully under better circumstances." The not-really-a-voice-thing paused before continuing. "When you arrive you will likely have no memories of this place. Memories are complicated things, being of both the soul and the body. Here where you have no body they are hard to form. And I fear that the nature of your journey will make memories of before now difficult to recover. Though in time I am confident you will. I wish you luck."
By the not-really-a-voice-thing had finished, Cross felt that she had almost finished the process of not being in the not-a-place that here was. As the last of her left, a nothingness came. But this was a proper nothingness. The nothingness of unconsciousness. Not the nothingness of the nothing-but-everything in the not-place she had left. It was relaxing. But the relaxation, the normality, the feeling of the familiar, it was tinged by the worrying sense that something other than the memories she had been warned would be gone was missing.
So, first things first: Welcome to the story! At current I plan on updating once every two weeks, maybe slowing down once I catch up to my backlog. Secondly, I don't currently have an editor other than my own rereading of things before I publish them, so if anyone wants to or has a suggestion of where to look for one that would be great.
Secondly: I'm honestly not sure how I feel about this prologue. I'm not sure that I've described "where" Cross is right now all that well, nor am I sure that the foreshadowing I'm trying to do here works. It's my least favorite section of everything I currently have written for this. So any thoughts on what works and what doesn't work here would be appreciated.