A pitch blackness descended on him that when he looked at his hands he wondered if he his eyes were closed. He couldn’t quite tell. He forced his eyes shut, and opened them. There was no difference one way or the other. He raised his his hands near his face, and not even a glimpse of flesh was visible, and tried as he might he couldn’t see them.
“Are you satisfied?” asked the voice
“Who goes there?” he asked at the unfamiliarity.
“A friend,” replied the voice.
He searched in his memory for a long while, but nothing came to him. “A friend?” he asked in defeat.
“I’m not surprised you can’t recall me,” said the voice, “it’s been a long while since we have spoken.”
He thought for a moment. “What do you want?” was the best he could say with a shrug.
“Is this how you greet an old friend?” said the voice. “I hear you’ve been searching the man of time.”
“Man of time?” he asked confused. “I don’t understand. “Why can’t I see you? Why is it so dark?”
“You will find what you seek, in a place hidden far from the world, at the edge of the ocean, where the sea touches the sky. You will find him there.”
“The man of time,” replied the voice, “you seek him, do you not?”
“Look here,” he said feeling his patience dissipate. “I don’t know what you are doing here and frankly I…”
“You never did care, did you?” the voice interrupted him. “Harold, if I took you to see the man of time, do you think you could change everything you did wrong?”
“I-I could try,” he stammered.
“Well then come along,” sighed the voice.
“How can I see where I am going?” he asked indignantly.
“You don’t need eyes to see,” whispered a voice.
And he was whisked away, like a flash of lightening.