*
A different time. A different day. Yet it is the same place. The cracked, reddened soil underfoot and the inescapable heat mark this place as the plateau. The moon hangs overhead, bathing the landscape in an ivory light. I-Alza-am standing a few feet away, staring at nothing. The bubble of protective air is back, marking this as a memory from before my encounter with... him.
I-she-I seem to be utterly apathetic of the world around me-her-me. My-her-my vision blurs as I-she-I try and maintain control. I... I know that if I lose myself here, I will become the Alza standing alone in the dusty field, and I will never escape from this memory. Suddenly, she-I-she starts to walk forward, her pace neither fast nor slow, as if she cannot even see the land beneath her feet.
I walk closer, towards the ghostly version of myself that has no spark of life in her eyes. She is cold, and her skin seems to be faded, bereft of colour, which almost matches her snow-white hair. I look into her face, and I see not a single shred of emotion or thought. She-I-she is a pretty little doll, a perfect companion to this uncaring, desolate world.
In the distance, strange howls break through the silence, but my lifeless counterpart takes no notice of the bloodcurdling sounds. A little while later -time seems to flow differently here- fake-Alza comes across a wide canyon, several hundred feet deep and fifty feet from face to face. Without slowing, she draws near to the steep precipice. If she feels fear or any other emotion, her blank stare hides it from view.
I-she-I-she-I. It’s getting harder to think, to remain myself. I am watching myself cross the unnatural bridge. I feel the emptiness of the space a few feet below my feet, the only barrier being the wavering pieces of earth which barely support my weight. Again, I hear the ominous howls fill the air, closer now. She lifts her head this time, gazing towards the source of the-
I raise my head, searching for the creatures that had made that dreadful-
She lowers her gaze once more, her face unreadable. It feels as though there are a million stars burning in my vision, and a pain from deep within breaks my concentration.
I am her... she is me... We are different, yet wear the same body, the same mind. She-I-she is not whole yet, she-I-she is lacking in both soul and purpose. The blank doll is walking before me, protected from reality by her dome of air, unseeing, unknowing.
It is getting hard to think. Something is pulling me away, dragging me back into reality. I fight it, I fight the now familiar voice that is telling me to wake up. I don’t want to go back to that complicated place... back to Him.
I look around at the tortured landscape, noting the advent of the sun’s rays, which do little to improve the look of the place. I can’t think anymore.
I-she-I-she-me-her... which one should I be?
The fake-Alza is still in the dusty world, now surrounded on all sides by dozens of bleached white beasts. Their crimson eyes spark a glimmer of recollection in my mind, but the pain keeps its true meaning from me.
HE is there, waiting in the world of light.
In desperation, I reach towards the other me, knowing that if I can touch her, we will become one. The voice drags me back, refusing to let me lose myself in this unreal place. As the light envelopes me, I can hear but one line, repeated without end, in His voice.
“Alza! Come back to me... please...”