In the silence, I reached around but felt nothing. I went for my face, but there was nothing there — no eyes, no mouth, just the faint sense of shape.
"Where am I?" my voice came in an unfamiliar whisper.
I saw nothing, felt nothing, remembered nothing. In the distance, red and purple spirals blossomed, flowers rooted in the emptiness. Then, she appeared: a beautiful woman with lavender hair and a blue and pink dress.
"Hello? Can you hear me?" I asked.
"Yes, I can hear you," she whispered. "My name is Samara, I am the Goddess of Reincarnation and Time."
I waited for her to finish, but I already knew what I was going to say.
"Why am I here?" I demanded.
"I was getting to that," she whispered again.
My mind raced — anger, anxiety, on edge with her every breath. "Then get to it faster!"
"Then stare off at your void, and listen to my words."
Samara's words echoed with a power that forced me to turn away from her — my mind became blank.
"Right now, you are a soul without purpose. I'm here to give you that purpose. Normally, this process is done by the soul and me. I give the soul options, it picks what it wants, and I make it happen. However, you were chosen by a God to be reincarnated, because he has a task for you. Which means you won't get the same luxuries. I'm sure you have questions—"
I rotated to face her. "Why me?"
"I don't know. He won't tell me," she explained.
"If I'm being reincarnated, does that mean I died?"
"Yes, it does," Samara said, turning to the void. "The colors, shape, speed, the spirals tell me everything I need to know about your life." She turned back to me and chuckled, "Granted, I also erased your memories."
She reached down, retrieved a small gold-laced leather book from her feet, and opened it.
"Let's begin."
She handed me the book and a quill from her sleeve.
"I'll ask you questions. You write down what you'd like."
"I thought you said I didn't get to make choices," I doubted.
"I didn't say that. In your case, you won't make every decision, only some of them."
"A name…"
"Just write down whatever comes to you," Samara said with a smile.
After several moments of contemplation, I had come up with nothing.
"I don't know!"
"Because this is an odd case. I'm willing to break the rules a little." She waved her hand.
The book glowed the color of her hair. On the page, a name was inscribed.
"Cynthia?"
"It was your name in your past life," she said with a wink.
I couldn't remember it, but it felt familiar.
"Next, you can choose one ability. Just write down anything you'd like to be able to do."
I flipped to the next page in Samara's book, then to the next, and so on. Each page was filled with information, predetermined abilities for the next life.
"I get all of this?" I asked.
"It's a lot, I know." Samara smiled.
"And I get an extra ability on top of this?"
She nodded.
I put the quill to the page…
"What happens after I do this task?"
"I'll bring you back here — to be reincarnated again."
"What will happen to my body?"
"Most people don't ask that… I'd prefer to keep it secret."
"Why? If I'm going to be reincarnated again, that means she's going to die, right?"
"Not exactly…" She paused for a moment. "In this case, your body will continue living, but your soul will be reincarnated again."
"So, you'll drop me in and pull me back out when you're done with me?"
"Precisely."
That was it, the final piece to push me over. Why does she get to play with my soul? I threw the book at her, hitting her in the chest.
"No."
She leaned down and picked up the book. "I'm sorry, but you don't have a choice."
"I won't do it!"
She raised a hand and snapped her fingers; my emotions ceased like a punch to the gut, and a second later, she was gone.
Oh no. Was I being too hard on her? She was just trying to do what she needed to.
"Samara? I'm sorry."
The spiraling colors in the abyss froze and turned dark before fading away. Two huge glowing red eyes appeared before me. They stared me down with intense heat.
"Do you think I had a choice?" a masculine voice boomed. "Another soul would be so lucky to have a chance at not only one more life, but two."
"Who are you?" I cowered.
"I was the first — the chosen."
"What… happened?" I mumbled.
"I made mistakes," the voice was filled with regret. "Now, if you refuse, you'll be making a bigger mistake than any that I've made."
"But… I'm nothing. How could I help a God?"
"I could fix this problem, but I'd kill millions. Samara can shape you to fit my needs. So, will you do it?" the voice asked. "Please, Samara can give you almost anything."
"Then I want immortality, I only want one life — a life she can't take."
"Immortality is a curse; life needs a beginning and an end," the voice remarked.
I thought it over. "What about omnipotence?"
"Not even I am truly omnipotent," he scoffed. "If you wish to become a Goddess, it is possible, but not at this time."
The swirls returned to the void, and the molten eyes disappeared.
The book and quill were back in my hand — I opened it and wrote…
I want to see the world as it is. I want to see the truth of everything.
Samara returned, sitting on a golden throne. "That I can do. Your story has been written," she said.
As it all faded to black, Samara mouthed two words: Thank you.