In a Not-World World Ch. 03

He was gone in the morning.

I'd been searching every nook and cranny of the house in the hopes of finding something-a note or any personal belonging that would indicate he didn't leave. Anything to deny his departure. Anything to betray this unfunny joke.

There was none. Futile was what it was.

After the third throughout inspection of house, I'd debated whether to redo it, in case I'd been still missing something. In the end I decided against it after considering the other option: Compared to doing the same thing over and over, an outside search -especially asking people around- would be more effective.

So I did that- left the house, asked anyone I ran into about Lear, even induced them to let me know if they were to see Lear. I got the impression there were less people around than usual, though I wasn't one to go out much -much less in the noon when the sun swore to burn my skin away - so it was just an impression. There were a few children engaging in games, too busy messing with each other to care about some plain guy hysterically running around -- and a few preoccupied middle ages more than ready to bite my head off if I dared steal one second longer from them.

I felt rather than knew that I needed to halt for a breather when my legs started to give out and my throat kept burning awfully as an affereffect of heavy panting. I set my eyes on the low concrete wall surrounding an expanse garden belonging to a famous old couple. I couldn't find it in me to look for a more comfortable alternative and practically threw myself on it.

Correcting my respiration surprisingly demanded more time than to get used to the soreness in my legs. My throat hurted like a bitch and all I could focus on except the very pain was the memories of Lear. When I looked back on them, it was impossible to notice how little time we spent together. The words we exchanged were as short as a everday conversation you'd have with a stranger. Yet there was nothing more clear than Lear's voice in my head. And I craved him like I craved nothing else, like we'd been seperated after spending a lifetime together. It was weird. But it also felt so natural it confused me.

So you don't know where the lake ends?

I recalled Lear's words from last night as I progressed through the memories. I'd thought he was acting a bit weird, but been too distracted to delve deeper into it. Now I could only clench my fists tighter and let the irksome feeling sink in deep inside.

Lear was there -the conviction got stronger and stronger- and I had to go after him. Find him and...

Whatever it is, I shrugged and ascended to my two feet. I pressed a fist firmly on my chest and drummed my heart lightly.

Albeit restless, I knew better than to over-rush and miss Lear on the way. So I remained observant after passing the mini-bridge, which bespoke the limit of my knowledge of the area.

I trailed the scorched land beside the lake to the right, a few feet apart from where faint grass was scattered along the way. A further scrutiny was tempting save all the warning signs and memories of ill omen. I did steal glances at the clear surface of the water (what if Lear was there?) but never long enough to see deeper.

To the left was a wide, empty extension of the land beneath my own two feet -- until it reached a woodland far away. What stood further away was curious, but the situation didn't call for cheap curiosity. Ergo I diverted the attention and focused straight on the way laying before me.

After a good fifteen minutes of advancing straight, the path I'd been following gained a approximately ninety degrees curve and it occurred to me that perhaps the lake ended where the woodland began. The more I run-walked, the stronger my suspicions became and the frequent glances of lake showed it was indeed getting shallower while the woods were in close sight.

Came the end of the lake, yet Lear was nowhere to be-

My stomach twisted into a tight knot when I saw an outwardly lifeless body laying on the coast. It looked too much like Lear but it didn't keep me from praying it wasn't until I reached there.

The next time I exhaled was when I dropped to my knees and checked for a pulse on Lear's neck.

He's alive.

He was too pale to allow any kind of relief registering into my insides. His soaked clothes and wet skin betrayed it couldn't have been too long since he was in the lake. I worried over the possibility he'd swallowed much water but his breathing seemed fine so I held back from delivering rescue breaths.

I don't know how long I'd waited for Lear to regain consciousness but it sure felt everything but short. Everytime I thought his eyelids were moving, about to rouse, I'd called his name and shook him repeatedly but it was in vain. He looked like he was sleeping a normal sleep, yet he didn't even make a sound at what normal people would at least jerk. I couldn't rouse him-he needed to wake up himself-, that dawned on me at some point and I settled on waiting stock-still.

When Lear finally opened his eyes I wasn't sure if I should've been relieved, because the look on his eyes were void of something that should've been there. It didn't change significantly when he saw and recognized me, but I saw a desperate plea of help. Timid but desperate. It was there.

"Why are you here?" Lear said at last, after the countless times I asked if he was okay. "I told you to stay away from the lake. Are you stupid?"

"I-" I couldn't help the taken aback expression -probably- spreading on my face. The harsh way he articulated the words didn't take me by surprise as much as his eyes did, however it was highly concerning and unsettling. "I'm glad I came."

Lear didn't say anything but averted his gaze slightly.

"I can't make much sense of all," I said just about firmly. "But I know it is better to be in danger together than see you like this."

Lear shifted slightly and the conviction I held for my words deepened.

"Talk to me, Lear." I said softly, cupping his cheek with a hand. Lear's eyes moistened and he blocked them from my view with an arm over them.

"I can't do this alone anymore." He sobbed brokenly. "I need you back."

A heavy ball of distress clenched in my stomach.

"I don't know if we can bring back your-" I lowered my voice hesitantly. "Lost lover but I can help you if there is anything I can."

"What?" Lear ruefully snorted as he wiped his eyes onto his arm. "There is no lost lover. It's you."

I returned a confused look. "What is me?"

"I lost you to the lake." He said, this time looking into my eyes. "Your memories. I lost you when the lake took them away."

My confusion grew second by second and Lear was, I assumed, quickly aware of it. Because he cut me off before I demanded elaboration.

"Help me sit up?" He asked and I did that. The way he leaned on my shoulder dependently spoke volumes about the lack of vigor and power in his condition, and maybe a bit of something else. Maybe.

"I'm scared of this, Adrian." He said tersely.

Scared of what exactly?

The question popped in my mind but I didn't give voice to it. Instead, I grabbed his hand and gently squeezed it on my thigh. "Don't be." I tested the most reassuring tone. "Don't be scared."

"You-I mean you before losing memories- would've just wanted us to keep living like this. Are you sure you want..."

"Yes." I responded when his words trailed off. "It's not exactly the best feeling in the world to be told you don't know yourself but I'm sure the 'me' I don't know would never leave you to deal with everything yourself."

"I didn't mean it like that." He said, wandering between flustered and flushed.

"I know. What I'm saying is: depend on me. Whatever happens, don't keep it to yourself and share it with me." I smiled when he looked even more flushed when he cast me glance. "Tell me, baby. Tell me about us."

The weight on my shoulders increased significantly as Lear rested his head on one and nodded, rubbing his cheek softly. The reliance warmed my insides and I kissed the top of his head chastely.

"You ever felt like something was wrong with here?" Lear asked flatly.

"Here?"

"The world."

I harked back to all the times just about everything felt unreal and ugly - until Lear. It was in fact the same only a few days ago.

"Thought I was going crazy. Everyone became something void of color and aesthetic when I paid attention to them for a long time." I said as I was nearly fed up with distasteful memories.

Lear sighed before going on. "This world is indeed fabricated and ugly, just like you evidently felt."

I raised an eyebrow, although Lear couldn't see my face. "What do you mean fabricated?"

"It's an artificial prison. Designed exclusively for us." Lear mouthed some inaudible sounds after that, clearly uncertain how to disclose the rest.

"You're a horrible story-teller." I joked, trying to ease the tension.

"Yeah, been told that a billion times." He smiled without much mirth. "Sorry, I know it doesn't make much sense. I'm gonna need to start from the beginning."

"Okay. I'm listening." I returned resolvedly when I could almost touch the doubts his contemplative frown was spreading into air.

"In the middle of the Crimson Sea, Kurenai, there is a small island called Zenphoen. Despite being small and inconveniently seperated far from any other inhabited land, Zenphoen made quite a name for itself when the former ruler, Rufian, took a fancy to trading the island's slaves for foreign slaves of lower 'quality'. Rufian strived to build good relationships with other small kingdoms by pleasing the sovereigns with stellar, well-trained slaves. That was, however, nothing but a fatuous facade. A very foolish one. Rufian believed his sneaky-sneaky plan to corrupt the kingdoms with the use of supposedly-obedient-slave-of-a-spy-s would work without a hitch. Little did he know all the targeted sovereigns were cognizant of his plans and hand in hand in returning the compliment."

I had no idea how the story would connect to us but any guess I could think of invited a stinging pain along.

"Soon, Zenphoen was conquered by one of the bigger kingdoms Rufian targeted. The new ruler, Hitcho, was one of the best things ever happened to Zenphoen and its habitants. He neither harmed the people nor stripped them out of their little freedom. On the contrary, out of his disposition to find joy in little things, Hitcho gifted people handsomely and even freed the slaves."

Lear smiled. It wasn't a smile easy on the eyes. "I was one of the 'low quality' slaves Rufian took and Hitcho freed months after."

I gasped and cursed inwardly, tightening my grip on Lear's shoulder at the same time. Without knowing better, I asked. "What about me?"

Lear didn't come across as surprised or irked by the question. Although, something about him certainly darkened. Better brace myself, huh?

"Hitcho, however loved and respected, just like every other ruler didn't shy from affairs with women of his liking. That was but until he found the love of his life, also the creator of this prison, Madelaine. Afterward, he never even touched his only wife again, let alone other women."

The next words were the hardest I ever articulated and my voice didn't stop trembling till the end. "Is she...I-"

"She's your mother." I opened and closed my mouth myriad times, unable to do anything else. Lear on the other hand didn't seem fazed and it somehow both helped and did the opposite. "But you're not from Hitcho, obviously. The one in your memories ought to be your real father Alekos."

"Wait." Too much. It was too much and I needed to take a proper breath before I'd forget how to do so. Also needed to think back on something. Something wasn't making sense.

I shut my eyes, breathed accordingly and found the tinge of sangfroid I needed.

It's an artificial prison. Designed exclusively for us.

The one in your memories ought to be your real father Alekos.

"Dad" I croaked out. "Was he trapped here like us? Then he's actually alive? Right?"

Lear -or was it the other way around?- gave me the longest and tightest hug as he asserted dad's health and explained he actually had never been in this world and had most likely found a way to communicate with me through my subconscious. Lear didn't know how he managed that and it privately lit up the flame of hope inside me. Though I didn't say it aloud, it resonated in my head.

If he could contact us from outside, why not the opposite?

From there on, howbeit excessive the emerging facts got, the hope aided coping with them.

Apparently, my mum had been having an affair with Hitcho since shortly after he'd become the ruler of Zenphoen. To my dad who'd learnt about it soon enough, she'd said it was all for my and our family's sake, to give us a better life. "I intend nothing if not pull a few wires and obtain a fortune worth the king's ransom along with prestigious standing." She must have said it so slyly and uncannily dad wouldn't have known to return the adequate response.

With passage of time, mom's avarice had grown beyond her remaining morals and she'd turned into a monster. Unfortunately we had been far from aware of it until it was too late, what had happened happened.

She'd learned about my relationship with Lear was what had happened. Although sexual relationships between those of same sex hadn't been rare, anything beyond sex had been frowned upon. Same sex partners who'd been caught having a chaste romantic relationship would be -- basically the end of whatever shenanigans mum had been scheming.

So we were here. Trapped. Erased out of her way.

Still in love.

Lear -none willfully- refrained from detailing the time as of our first meeting to the day we'd started being an item. He delivered a heartwarming smile and coaxed me into waiting until he would tell all of the story without leaving anything some time.

Dreaded was the part after we became trapped. Lear undoubtedly was the most reluctant in telling what exactly had happened after we first had found ourselves in an entirely foreign place. And when he did tell me, I thought maybe he wasn't all over and done with self-blaming for the decisions we'd made here.

We'd been scared witless, disorientated and worried sick; about us and dad. Poor man was all alone with the menacing witch of a wife -as likely as not- savoring her newly-found leverage. Only thing suggesting dad wasn't in a similar situation as us was his memories in me. It was far from being reassuring -- but for sure better than the time we'd known nothing about his situation. The time we'd apparently been at a complete and utter loss, incapable of smelling a rat.

The rat in the configuration of lake. We'd been too out of it to think twice when both of us felt something strange about the lake. Too scared -- yet ironically too careless not to end up with Lear looking deep into the lake.

What followed had been just part of many disasters. Lear getting double-trapped in this prison (lake being the new addition) and me losing memories.

"Feel like you can stand yet?" I asked as I took in Lear's darkening expression. Yup, he was clearly on the brink of brooding over the past.

It goes without saying I myself wasn't all sunshine and butterflies in my head. But I wasn't about to start fretting over the past I had no memories of now. Cheering Lear up -as much as humanly possible- after all the suffering he went through facing things alone seemed like a better course of action.

He gave a weak nod which was probably supposed to be enthusiastic but turned out to be anything but. The vulnerability in his eyes brought out a new level of adoration in my heart. The urge to hide him so no one could ever hurt him again became too much and it took all in me to just settle for holding his hand as I helped him on his feet.

"Look at me." I cradled his head gently while making sure he wouldn't topple and meet the ground so soon again. He met my gaze without any further ado. "We'll overcome it just fine. Together."

"Love you." He said after a quick nod and kissed my lips for the briefest of moments.

"Love you too." I smiled, enthralled. "We should just forget about everything else and let today be about us and us only. Sofa and cuddle?"

"Absolutely." He beamed this time.

"Gotta fix something for dinner first, and then sofa and cuddle it is. By the way you sure you can walk back to home?"

"Naw," Lear answered dramatically. "Need someone to carry me bridal style."

"You seem fine to me." I shrugged with amusement, relief washing over me. Lear made a face at that and left us to a comfortable silence. The walk back home was languid and peaceful.

~ ~ ~

The concept of chilling together was too tempting to just be content with a day of it, both of us realized that after a few days of doing absolutely nothing .

The day we'd come back home exhausted from lake, we'd been too sleepy to even enjoy each other's company properly. Thus the prolongation had begun and we'd been doing nothing but lay around lazily - save the time we'd felt energetic enough to do the dirty.

Except the one time Lear said something about finding a way to regain my memories (which I didn't push and just let slip), it was like an unspoken rule to not bring up anything that might dampen the calm. Though, it was probably just something on my side since it wasn't like Lear actually looked like he was holding back on something. I was, still, the one with questions. The one-sided situation was starting to mess with a bundle of nerves in the pit of my stomach. The moment I broke the mood off and asked the remaining questions - especially one that would feel all but too fresh for Lear -- we would have to actually discuss about the situation and get to doing something.

I am pathetic. Pathetic is me.

Stop acknowledging it and keep your word to Lear instead.

I sighed at my thoughts. I was the one who gave Lear assurance we would deal with everything together and to keep my word, the first effort should be mine to make.

I sat up from where my head was resting on Lear's lap and Lear turned his gaze to me, questioningly. My resolve slightly shuddered as I took in the lovely perfection that is Lear. He looked...looked mine and just that. No matter how intently I scrutinized, everything about him screamed mine, mine, mine.

"Are you beautiful because you're real, or are you real because you're beautiful?" I knew what I needed to say but the wrong words slipped out of my mouth instead of them.

Lear's face glistened, embodying the purest form of joy and warm passion. After a moment's contentment, he pecked me on the cheek softly. "You want to ask about why I went there don't you?"

I stiffened at that a bit but didn't let it get past the fond sparkle of the atmosphere. So I nodded, just not without a facetious smirk on my face and said, "Well, not to be stifling with proprietary inquiry, but your man would be happy to be informed on your cruising experience."

Lear chuckled and elbowed me on the stomach lightly. "Shut up." I groaned overdramatically and he rolled his eyes. I just began working my mouth open when he beat me to speaking. "You remember the time I asked you about the farthest place you've been to?"

"Yeah, I think you also asked if I knew where the lake ended." We were talking more relaxedly than I imagined and it helped soothe my apprehension considerably.

Lear nodded and carried on. "I suspected this place only consisted of a small area, but the thing is it was even smaller than I figured. There is nothing beyond that woods by the lake."

"You went there to check where this prison ended?" I asked, my voice coming out crooked.