I reincarnated in game

9 Just Jump!

Hugh plummeted through the air.  It was hard for him to catch his breath because the wind was pushing against his chest, making it difficult to expand his lungs.  In the few minutes that Hugh felt he had left to live, he took some satisfaction in knowing that he had thwarted the plans of the powerful priest who was intent on stringing him up by his neck!  He imagined the looks on their faces when they realized he had chosen his own destiny, instead of succumbing to their will.

He thought about his mother. “Sorry, mom; I had no choice but to chose the path I did.  I felt it was more honourable than being hung by Father Paul.  I hope you are not disappointed in me.”

The image of his mother, lying on her mattress, reaching up to him, came into his mind in perfect clarity.  He, once again, felt the warmth of her hand as it gently caressed his cheek.  He could hear her final words to him, telling him to live his life well.  The phrase began repeating in his consciousness.  “You need to live your life well.” … “You need to live your life well.” …  “You need to live your life well.” …

Of those cherished words repeating in his head, one came to the forefront … “Live” … “Live” … “LIVE!”

Hope ignited in his soul.  His desire to live jolted back to life; sparked into existence by the thoughts of his mother’s dying utterance, which would now be his mantra. 

His eyes shot open.  His mind went back to when he was playing the game of Ether Sword … he remembered that wind could be used to reduce damage to characters that were falling from great heights.  His current situation was similar to that which he had encountered in the games he had played. 

Up to this point, Hugh had been falling backwards.  He flipped his body over; he could now see the distance to the foreboding Fourth Level Land, closing rapidly in the bright sunlight of the morning.  He stretched his hands out on both sides, and tried to absorb the air element by using his Crystal ability; it just wasn’t strong enough. 

“Come on!  I need to absorb more energy!” Hugh shouted out loud.

He became aware of a warmth emanating from his left pocket, and wondered, momentarily, what it could be … the heat increased steadily.  He looked down and saw a multi-coloured light glowing through the fabric of his pants.

“That’s it!  The prism!” Hugh exclaimed to himself.

Hugh then focused his mind solely on the prism, willing its energy to be absorbed into his body.  The warmth spread from the contact point at his hip and engulfed him, from his head to his feet.  He perceived a low hum and felt a vibration which seemed to emanate from the core of the prism throughout his body.  It was working, but the time to impact was now imminent!  He didn’t know if it would be enough to save him from being fatally wounded because he was not a mage; just a Crystal, of mixed race.

Hugh’s intensive efforts to absorb and manipulate the magical elements awakened the system.  That was when he heard the voice.  Time slowed to a crawl.

“I cannot allow you to die …not like this.”  The disembodied voice seemed to come out of nowhere, but be everywhere, at the same time; both within, and without, his body.  It sounded like it was coming from a being that was both omnipotent, and omnipresent.  It spoke clearly, in a low, methodic cadence; the voice of someone in supreme control.

“I can help you.  However, I can only infuse you with this energy once.  If you suffer fatal damage again, I can do nothing to help you.”

It dawned on Hugh that this was the narrator of Ether Sword that was intervening to give him a chance to survive.

Hugh opened his eyes.  A guttural, animalistic scream welled up from the very core of his being …. “Ahhhhhhh!!!!”

Energy surged from deep within him, and from around him; it surrounded his body; shifting his trajectory away from the deep, dark maw of the abyss below him.

In spite of the magic energy which had been expended to manipulate the elements, Hugh’s body continued in an uncontrolled, chaotic, downward spiral towards the ground. 

In a slowed, time environment, Hugh saw the lands below, unfolding before him. 

The chasm, which had filled the space immediately below him, changed from a black void, to an eerie, menacing purple which glowed along the fringe of the abyss.  Deep cracks in the earth at the brim of the canyon looked like demonic tendrils, reaching outward, along the surface.  This slipped past him as he was carried by the winds.

There were huge piles of trash stretching as far as the eye could see; they were everywhere.  The piles were increased, and reformed, by fresh dumps from flying barges, bringing the refuse from the other Level Lands.  Buildings were constructed of mismatched waste and repurposed materials.  The rotting vegetation caused spontaneous fires to ignite; columns of smoke were everywhere.  Pollution rose into the skies, forming dark, smudgy clouds which Hugh passed through, on his descent.  A constant, blue haze hung over the lands, reducing the amount of sunlight which could get through.  Because of the poor quality of light, ground vegetation was sparse and scraggly; trees dotted the landscape; they did better because their height allowed them to capture the sunlight.  There were as many as a dozen small cities on this level.

Time resumed its normal pace.

Because of the force of gravity from the fall, Hugh struggled to remain conscious. 

He landed in a large pile of trash; with the sudden and abrupt impact, bits of detritus were expelled into the air, landing a few feet away from him.

“Ouch!” Hugh said, with a strained groan. 

He lost his battle to remain alert; his consciousness slipped into the darkness of oblivion.