Awakening

  *

  Avatars. Fire. Despair. Alza. Father. Darkness. Dreams. Hope. Pain. Ice. Tired. Crystals. Moonlight. Maloch. Kingston. Protect. Suffer. Sin. Stride. Yumiere. Rigel. Guilt. Gods. Thrones.

  Too much. It's all too much. I need to sleep. I need to dream. NO! If I dream, I'm at risk. Can't stay awake forever. What if I'm dreaming now? What if everything has been a dream?

  Guardian. Sentinel. Corruption. Pollution. Mother. The Glade. Crimson-Eyes. Terra. Violet. Nightmares. Fear. Power. Alza. Alza! ALZA!

  “What?” The voice was unmistakeably Alza's, although it was a lot closer than Barsch was used to. The owner of the voice was kneeling beside Barsch as he awoke, both of them wearing a look of surprise. Hers faded first.

  “Hermit, he's up.” Without looking back, Alza left Barsch's side. For a millisecond, Barsch could have sworn that he saw a flash of annoyance warp her pretty face, but she was gone before he could be sure. Kingston passed her on the way to Barsch, and his annoyance at her presence was far more obvious. However, as he approached Barsch, the look took on more of a compassionate yet worried nature.

  “What... what happened?” Barsch tried to sit up, but it was if a solid weight was pressing down on his stomach, keeping him pinned to the floor.

  “You collapsed m'boy, right there in the tunnel. Me, Maloch and the girl were further up when it happened, so we didn't notice at first. But the girl must have heard you or something, because she suddenly turned around and headed back. A few seconds later, she came back, dragging you along behind her. She hasn't left your side since.”

  “How long was I out?” Time was impossible to measure in the tunnels, but Barsch internal clock told him that it had been a few hours at least.

  “Almost three hours! You had me worried for a while there m'boy. Maloch said that there was nothing physically wrong with you, but I told him that not all injuries are physical. And personally, I think it's amazing that you've lasted this long! I mean, you healed from an injury that would have put most men out for six months, if not more, in only a few days! And these energy sapping ç'aether crystals can't be helping either.”

  “What do you mean?” Barsch had regained just enough energy to raise his head. When he recovered from the recoil of that action, he began to take in his new surroundings. It was another cave, not unlike the one that had held the crystal thrones, except this one had ç'aether running along the ground, as well as in the walls. Maloch had taken up station by the furthest entrance, while Alza gone back to her already laid out bedroll.

  Seeing Barsch's wandering gaze, Kingston explained, “We decided to sleep here for the night, you know, give you a chance to rest. Well, I guess we all need some down time... ha ha...”

  Barsch said nothing, giving Kingston a chance to continue, “And about the whole sapping energy, well, it has to do with a theory of mine. You see, I think the ç'aether act as energy containers, storing up various forms of energy, or, in some cases, pollution, and slowly amplifying and redistributing it. The things they make us see are probably just by-products of the whole process. And, I have a hunch that the ç'aether on the surface have been corrupted somehow by the pollution, making it so that they store up the energy without letting any leak out, until they reach critical mass and explode, forming origin points. You know, pure, concentrated balls of pollution and radiation, which accelerate the spread of any nearby pollutants. If I could somehow figure out a way to create a natural ç'aether, one that recycles pollution into energy, we might be able to- Ah, you're probably still tired, and I should let you rest.”

  Barsch could do nothing but meekly nod in approval. What little strength he had left had been used up while raising his head. With an apologetic look and a firm pat on his shoulder, Kingston left Barsch's side. The old hermit wandered over to Maloch and, after whispering something to the re-mech, returned to his bedroll. Barsch could do nothing but relax and let his head hit his bundled coat -which made for an excellent replacement pillow- while his thoughts began to meander.

  He thought about the Avatar's warning, and the Beast's fear, and his own apprehensions about falling asleep. Somehow he knew that his dreams that night would be bad. Already, he was mentally preparing himself for the things that would haunt him for days to come. Would it be the crimson eyed man? Or Raigan, and his piercing bolts of lightning. Perhaps it would be a twisted memory? Yumiere's death had always found a way into his dreams before he met Alza.

  But he knew, in his heart, that it would be the Beast that would ravage his mind that night. It was different from the others. It came from within. And even though it was the least real of the options, it had always terrified him the most. It represented his guarded thoughts, his carnal desires, and he had given it a form, and a name. Still, there was always the chance that his night would contain no dreams. There was a chance that his mind would not be tortured once more by visions of the past. Even though it was the most unlikely thing, he had to have hope... he had to believe in a world where dreams were not things to be feared or avoided... a world where he would be free from his demons... his sins...