A woman and an old man in a vast, ornate hall with stained glass windows and two cloaked figures, standing before a grand door.

“Does he ever wake up?” She spoke, softly, as if the glistening marble halls would crumble at a whisper. A grey-bearded man walked at her side. “If he did-“ He mused, finding humor in her query. “…we wouldn’t be here to question, I presume.” Even he, as grey as he was, an assortment of wrinkles that each held a tale; even he, seemed pale in time to the halls. The “clop” of their shoes were audible… the only soft echo in the passage ways. “Pale”, she thought. Pale was a good adjective to describe the long way. For every couple of yards, there was a tall glass stained window. A blinding— no blinding was a harsh description, this place held no such sting nor stress. No, it was… embraceful. At the far end, a bronze door towered high. Two cloaked pale figures stood at either side. Their hoods— not dark, but absent in a face to make note of, turned gently to her and the elder. The greyed man looked up at them, straightening his back. “For a world to live; to him a rest most deserving.” He spoke. These words seemed to carry a slight gust that cooled her… like a breeze in an open field of green. The two hooded figures stepped aside— as they did, the gate heaved outwardly open… untouched, or at least, opened by unseen hands… “Take my hand.” The greyed man offered his palm outwardly to the woman at his side. “The first time is… well, it can be a bit overwhelming— I know it was for me.” She took his hand. There was no argument, for already the sight began to overtake her. Beyond the Mehr sehen