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Death natural? I could laugh at the idea but remorse has yet to yield its grip on my mind and soul. I am stifled, my emotions locked away in the deep bowls of my mind, never yielding my grip over them and the future of which I hold dear. Future is an uncommon word in my vocabulary for my mind is deep within the past. No longer do I wish for the future like so many times I had done, but now I am lost within the past’s winnowing futilely grasping out to those long ago beginnings that evidently are slipping away. My deluded eyes no longer enhance my view of sight for the things around me but instead uncontrollably see but the pain of the far gone happenings of the latter days.
I sit now, my eyes searching out over the eyes that stare back into mine, the appeasing joy they withheld in their tiny bodies evident in their plump and wistful faces. They, these small children, somehow found it pleasing for me to tell them the certain happenings of my past, or as they call them, stories, but the joy they felt would not break through my hazy cloud. This was one of the ways I kept my memories from being lost, recalling recollections of my earlier life kept those memories fresh. Certainly my world was different from this, my earlier life so much more interesting than these beings that could not see farther than what they could depict with their own two eyes. But the ones that sat before me were whom that could inevitably believe, who were young enough to let their minds break through the barrier of reality and they are to whom I told my memories of my own world of long past without a philosopher’s mind creating the conclusion that it was all separate from reality, a childish mind who just made up all that she told.
I shouldn’t be telling these kids of my world, I use to think. My world was different, my world was just as alive, and my world would all but be a relief to my heart at the present time. No more wishing, no more regretting what I never accomplished, no more remembering the faces of friends who I let down, no more hesitating to make anymore memories. What I wanted was to be free from this world and gone to the next so my memories of the past would stay fresh. But every moment that passed those memories slipped away. But I could not leave, not yet. What I really wanted was to feel warmth again, to no longer travel to my ever assailing death to simply grow colder with every breath that was took. I was no longer in my youth, this world being so different from mine, far too older than mine. Joy would never come, the haze would only grow, my eyes would be blinded and nothing would keep me from slowly secluding myself in my own mind, safe from the reality about me. Only faith would keep me from my fate.
A shifting was heard through the group before me, their impatience was evident. They never could stay still, shifting, alteration, fluxing, variation, adaptation; everything moved nothing stayed consistent whether it was living or inanimate. Seeing this brought an amusing look within my eyes as slowly I straightened in the chair I sat, in front of the group of children sitting on the vast carpeted floor. Bookshelves crowded around as well, encircling the children and I, the books atop the thousands of shelves seeming to shift as if readying for my rather repetitive natured stories. But though they were told over and over once again, they never seemed to grow old and dim but rather instead grew in interest as more ears heard the fascinating tales of my past.
A smile grew on my face, showing I was ready to exalt breath in the creation of words. Seeing this, all motion stopped a silence blanketing the scene. Nothing disturbed this stillness until a mouth was opened, eyes set upon me, a young and high pitched voice echoing out, “Tell us about Islarion!”
My smile only increased at the request, this young mind captivated by my experiences and induced to remember many of my tales for their realism in this child’s mind. “As you wish…” I simply said, my grin dwindling as I thought back. The words to describe the memories would always elude me, nothing able to describe what was experienced in those long ago moments, but I would always due the best I could to my extreme distaste. My tomboy demeanor was now evident as I leaned forward, hands on knees clasped shut, a gleeful flint of my past youth reflecting in my eyes. “Shifting, alteration, fluxing, variation, and adaptation, our world once was much like yours. But it all came to an abrupt halt. No longer did time enwrap us, no longer did it move forward. For some unexplained reason, our world had stopped. Time ceased to flow. At first we were exhilarated by this sensation. No longer would my friends and I have to worry about the future but this excitement soon fell to devastation. There was to be no future, and though we were all immortal due to the hand of time being stopped, Death was left in time’s wake. The birth of a new era would never begin, only the death of the future was to be acquired. No new life was to be created. And so, as we slowly were enlightened upon this fact, another mind had already accumulated this information and sought to take advantage.
“Now supposedly, our two worlds were created by two forces beyond measure. Two things we could only call gods. They bound and wove our two worlds, careful not to mingle. But there was an exception, a passage was created that bound two like places between this world and my world it was so called the in-between. Now not all forces are purely good in heart. One was black, a stale oily flame, blood thirsty and murdering opposed to the other; bright and soft, pleasing to the mind. Black was this one mind, the one essence that could wish its own creations to crumble to the ground. War was forced upon my world, Islarion is what we called it, and we were all sent into dark times. My companions and I stayed out of the fighting in hopes time would mend itself. But our hopes were wasted just as the dead who had already fallen. Now, what we once feared we earnestly wanted, desired, craved what we did not have. A future was what our eyes gravely sought; a life without fear. We wouldn’t allow time to stop us nor this force. Our future was in our hands, we had one and we would mend what was broken.”
“But how did you get here?” Came the voice again.
My eyes didn’t stray from the children in front of me. “I truly don’t know. But I assume I must have stumbled upon this in-between without knowing. Our world was stopped hundreds upon hundreds of years ago. I have seen long and hard times, a war everlasting and lingering as time refused to move on. We were left in the times of castles, knights, steel and arrow, the middle ages as you would call it; none as gallant as you would imagine though. The last thing I remember was my companions and I taking up the fight and riding to aid: On a cold dark winter night, hidden by the stormy light, a battle rages for the right for what will become of my world. For the kingdom of fire and ice and the power to be alive, we carried on through the war. We crossed silent seas and plains of gold like an eagle which flew on the wings of death by the hands of doom. Forever we rode together, black wind against our backs, destroying evil with freedom as our everlasting guide. In our blackest dreams, in evil’s domain, we watched it as it fell. The darkness falling down cloaking the world in its embrace, light fell against the black to be scattered forevermore. Fighting hard, steel against steel, through the wastelands evermore, bodies wasted on that shore of bane. But we knew we were free, free before the thunderstorm, on towards the wilderness our quest had carried on.” Suddenly I heard a shifting just beyond the group of children. My eyes lifted to stare into a face, eyes staring back with a grin upon the face of a young man. He was the one who had spoken out the many times ago, my gaze too deluded to acknowledge his presence until now.
“Day breaks like golden strands of wheat upon the land. In the shadows faces appeared. Warriors wearing full metal gear all joined together one and all before the glorious light. Risen up, gathered around come to hear what was said. ‘Use your senses, open your mind. Don't you ever forget what today has brought, what our swords will bring, what the brightest of lights has brought and that the blackness of our own hearts will bring turmoil to the darkness…” He finished my own story and recalled my very words, a hint of a smile slightly pulling up the corners of his mouth. So different yet so similar, the resemblance was great and the differences as well. But it couldn’t have been. He couldn’t have come from Islarion unless I hadn’t been the only one to suddenly transcend into this other world…
His smile only increased at my baffled expression, ”You know that sanity is not as it was meant to be. And know that misery has taken a new stand. In the land of a thousand souls we still carry on through the rain. In the sun we still move along with the memories of the slain. When I see this humanity and the evil that they have come to be; we've come to the point of no return and you beg for just one more time to escape from all this madness, one more time to be set us free from all this sadness and one last time to be the one who understands.” He whispered as he turned away and walked back down through the corridor of bookshelves, “Forget the old and live as long as you might. Care more than others think is wise, risk more than others think is safe, dream more than others think is practical, and expect more than others think is possible. Hold fast to your dreams for if dreams die, life is like a broken winged bird that cannot fly. We still chase after those golden dreams but they’re no longer yours. For no longer does time stand still for you for this is your world now, unlike my own world of Islarion… ”
I shook my head, “I cannot. My hope is the struggle of my soul; it has broken off from what is perishable and attests my eternity.” But he was long gone, my words, I could assume, never reaching his ears.