A World Long Sundered -- Chapter 6 PART 1

“I did wake up though, eventually.”

“Yes.”

The room was empty. Donovan, his mother, Kyndra, and his own smaller counterpart had vanished. Dusk had passed, and yet the room still had an internal glow about it that could not be explained by the lone lantern at the bedside. Only the wash basin the old healer had used to cleanse the blood from his younger self remained as proof the last scene ever occurred. That and the bloodied rags next to it.

He walked over to the oversized bowl, his footfalls causing crimson ripples to bob along its interior. On a whim, he bent down and blew out the lantern. He wasn’t surprised that doing so had little effect on the room’s brightness. It was a dream after all.

“And my mind was still my own.”

“To the best of our knowledge, yes. What else do you recall?”

Neither statements had been questions, Riggs already knew the answers. Yet, it was good to hear their affirmations. He sighed and slowly dipped his hands into the reddened waters. The coolness felt good, exactly how he remembered it should feel. Cupping his hands, he raised a bit out, only to let it flow back into the bowl. The crimson water made no ripples as it fell back into the basin. He noticed that the lantern was lit again.

“What’s wrong with all of you?” The question came out suddenly. He didn’t really expect a response. “It’s not like you to neglect detail in your illusions.” He paused a moment to offer them a chance to respond. Still the bugs were silent, he continued, “I’m not sure what you expect of me. I don’t know why you are showing me all this. You’ve always had a purpose, albeit usually a self-centered. It’s strange you know? I don’t have a tenth of the memory I should have but I know something’s wrong. There must be a reason you would…,”

“We are dying Auryn Riggs.” The response came without hesitation. “However, you most likely already surmised as such, or would have shortly.”

And there it was. The real reason they had brought him back from the void slapped him in the face. After all these years, the creatures he’d been tethered to were finally slipping into their own final sleep. A part of him couldn’t help but feel a little sense of warped justice. Even without the bulk of his memories, he knew that these creatures had manipulated his actions for years and now they needed his help once again. He nearly laughed. Would he finally be free after they were gone? His mirth disappeared as fast as it came, he doubted it was that simple.

“We are dying because you are dying, Riggs.”

It was never simple. “Well, the void claims us all in the end.” His words were more callous than he felt. He dried his hands and found his way over to the chair his mother had sat in while watching his younger self. “And you think telling me this will encourage me to help you?”

“We did not intend to tell you Riggs. It was decided more likely that your memory would return fully before you realized our weakening state. Our time is limited, if we do not recover your memory in time, then you risk waking damaged, if you wake at all. Even if you wake fully cognitive, without the tools needed to accomplish what must be done, you will perish along with whatever remnant of civilization that is left in this broken world.

“You’re telling me if I stay here, I’ll die, if I wake I’ll still die.” He felt his frustration rising.

“That is quite probable.”

Had they always been this infuriating? “Then what’s the point! You sure as oblivion aren’t helping your case here. Just what would you have me do?”

“We would have you remember.”

“Well, that seems less and less of an option, now doesn’t it? Why won’t you just tell me?” He was getting nowhere and he had a feeling that some of his captors were beginning to think the same.

He could sense their hesitation, somehow, he knew they were deliberating amongst themselves. He waited, they only delayed a few seconds; it was long enough for him to notice just what a comical figure he must make sitting in a room seemingly arguing with thin air.

“We still believe there is time enough for you recollect on your own. That is still the most beneficial course of action. However, it is unlikely such a response will satiate your stubbornness. So, let us say this. Your body is dying, and with it our collective existence as well. The force that sustained you for centuries was waning even when you were first introduced to it. Now, it is nearly nonexistent. We, too, have become reliant upon this declining resource. We are not the only ones. There are others, those who you once fought against in the past that devour this energy as soon as they locate it.

“There was a time when we survived outside of this source. Perhaps, someday you will be able to grasp the concept of what we are as well as our origin. For now, though, please be content knowing that we are unable to access the original energies we were created to harness. We were forced to improvise. Our existence now directly relies upon yours. You might judge this parasitic, but your continued survival depends on the knowledge we possess. Knowledge we are trying to impart to you. It may be easier for you to view our relationship as symbiotic.”

His head had dropped into his hands. He was tired. Ironic that someone could feel so tired while dreaming. Was that why he was so weary, his body was failing? This was their way of saying they could help each other, but for whatever reason, he found it difficult to empathize with them. They still hadn’t told him just why he was dying or what he needed to do when he woke.

It all seemed so improbable—but most dreams were.

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