To Save a World Ch. 03

This time though, Lydia saw only a tired, hunted creature. The woman's emaciated shape has never been more pronounced. Her ribs showed in the shallowness of her stomach, her cheeks unnaturally hollowed, limbs looking too long for her body. She looked like the sick, mangy dogs she'd seen in the wharfs, only upright, and more human.

But her eyes held a hardness -- a determination. In that moment Lydia felt the load of bearing Aaron through leagues and leagues of difficult terrain, the weight of carrying a dying life for the thin chance of recovery, the heaviness of her resolve not just to live, but to make others live with her.

Lydia saw a will to live in those foreign, wolf-like eyes. The same will to live, the same grit, that had allowed her to survive one more day of starvation, one more day of fighting off the other bullies and authorities, one more day of living underneath the soles of the proper men and women of the city that treat her and her kind like nothing more than dirt.

She saw those eyes almost smile at her, and the small encouragement from so remarkable a creature was enough to boost herself.

"I-" she stuttered, unsure of herself and suddenly embarrassed, "Where did you want to take me? I can walk now." She bit off adding 'I think', not wanting to seem like complaining. She had just realized how easy she has had it compared to her who had carried all the burden, and who had probably suffered worse as a slave under Herry. She was determined to follow the woman's lead.

She didn't know if it was just the timing, or if the wolf woman heard the inquiry in her voice, but they immediately got up and she led her through a short distance in the forest.

It was probably only the late afternoon outside of the enveloping forest, but within the towering trees, the thick canopy of leaves, and the greens that blocked the remaining sunlight, it was well and truly dark. The woman's hand held Lydia's with her strange, rough touch guiding her though the dark. Eventually they came to a small clearing in the forest floor, remarkably devoid of any explosions of greenery for more than five hand spans in a rough circle. In the center of it was the root of an upturned tree so huge that Lydia would not be able to hug it all the way around even if there were five of her, the length of it stretching out of the clearing and swallowed up by the darkness ahead.

The woman had found a hollow in the trunk of a tree, parts of the great giant where it had rotted through the bark sufficiently. She got down and crawled through, marveling in the deeper, darker hollow that she found inside the body of the trunk. The outer bark had stayed intact throughout the times, but the softer, inner parts had rotted away, leaving some parts in tact while some parts were carved out by the elements. It was in one of these hollows that Lydia, the woman, and the unconscious Aaron found refuge.

Lydia marveled at her steadfast companion, her respect for her growing by the minute as she discovered that she had even laid down a blanket of wide leaves for them to sleep on. The damp, earthy hole was by no means a comfortable place, but the girl's heart soared just to be able to properly rest from their ordeal. Fear and panic had long ago given way to numb exhaustion, only a small, determined part of her mind willing her body to take one step after another, and it was glorious to put that small part of her to sleep.

Lydia's body had already begun sleeping by the time she was crawling in, and was already asleep when her head hit ground.

* * *

Time became irrelevant in the cave that Aaron was in, and he was already starting to get used to the unchanging situation he found himself in. Besides, if he was dead and this was hell, well, there isn't really anything he could do about it, is there?

In fact, there's pretty much nothing he could do at all -- hell or not.

"You could get up," a voice said.

That was new.

Also, had it just read his mind? He waited for the classical 'yes, I just read your mind' response from the voice, but nothing came forth. Fascinated, he did as the voice suggested and looked around. Why had he never thought to get up before? Perhaps because there really wasn't any need to. But now there was (the voice told him to), and some part of his brain hopped in and further suggested that he investigate his mysterious cave. So he did.

It was a pretty small, almost perfectly circular cave he was in, about five meters in circumference all around. Except, now he couldn't exactly call it a cave anymore. Caves had to have entrances, don't they? This was more like a fully isolated subterranean cavern. Most likely a geological impossibility -- although he wasn't really in a position to talk about, or even think about, impossibilities.

The circular area gave him mind-bending flashbacks about another circle, one in charred earth with eerie blue fires, a shadow of the magical energy that brought him to this world.

Whatever was toying with him seemed to like circles a lot.

He wasn't in the middle of this circle now, though, but just a little bit off. What was in the center of the cavern was a small, glowing puddle of liquid. And it was glowing. An intense, consistent deep blue glow radiated from out of it so much that Aaron wondered why his eyes didn't burn as he stared at it. He also didn't wonder anymore where the light in the cavern came from, as the illumination was practically enough for a small house. It was so bright that the young man expected it to make some noise, as if it was so powerful that it would crackle, the feeling not unlike watching lightning strike and waiting for the inevitable thunder to rumble.

But it didn't make a sound -- not even a little bit. It was as silent as a tomb. Because maybe that's what this was. A tomb.

"Hello," the voice said again. He looked up to find a boy huddled on the edge of the glowing pool, on the side opposite him. He wasn't there before.

"Are you okay?" the boy asked. He stared at Aaron with large, blue eyes, the way the light illuminated his features making him looking like a perched little blue specter. The black of his wild hair looked even blacker in the strange lighting, while the rest of his skin looked pasty white. He was dressed in simple, colorless clothes, as far as Aaron could tell. A nondescript pair of kiddie t-shirt and jeans. The mysterious boy hugged his legs to his chest, his chin perched on the gap between his two knees. He looked oddly familiar.

"I don't know," Aaron replied. He honestly wasn't sure what to even feel. Thinking about it, he really wasn't... feeling anything at all. Even waking up in this strange location, when he should have been surprised and panicked, he felt nothing but calm and indifference.

"Why?" the boy asked back innocently, peering at Aaron from across the glowing pool "I think you know more than you think".

His mind blanked at that for a bit. Why? Why what? Why did he not know if he was okay? How was he supposed to answer a question that prodded at his ignorance to answer another simple question? And did he really know more than he knew? Wait, did that even make sense?

"Um. I think I'm dead." He replied, just as nonsensically. It was an unconscious response of him to copy the way the child was sitting, hugging both his knees to his chest and perching his chin on top.

"I don't think you are," the child said.

"Well, what do you know, kid?" he immediately regretted the remark as soon as he said it. He hated it when people treated him like a child, especially when he thought he was giving sound advice.

But the child just grinned at him, like he knew what he was thinking. "I know quite a lot, actually."

Well, that was weird. But then, wasn't it already a given that the kid could read his mind? Yet again, he waited for that 'I can read your thoughts' quip, but nothing came. He felt mildly confused and a little let down. That was how they always did it in the movies.

"Do you, now?"

"Mhm. You're not dead, mister -- you're dying. This is just a way for your mind to cope with the painful physical sensations of your... passing on."

Aaron sat there, shaken to the core as the young child named that shadowy feeling residing on the back of his mind ever since he regained consciousness.

"Wha-" was his non-reply, "Who are you?"

"I'm Aaron, of course." The boy said, almost proudly.

"But -- that's me."

"Exactly." The child looked at him sheepishly, and all the resemblances suddenly rushed to him. Curly black hair, pale skin, pale, wide eyes that shone blue because it reflected the light of the glowing puddle at their feet. Limbs that looked too long for his own body.

Aaron suddenly had a feeling of deep emptiness, like his brain realized that it was staring right at a missing part of itself and trying to call it back, but failing. If that even made any sense.

"I know a great deal more things, too!" the younger Aron boasted, "I know about your little tryst with pretty Lydia! I know you like how she looks, so frail yet so exotic."

The older -- original, he thought to himself -- Aaron could only stare.

"You see her as an anchor to this world. Someone you want to protect. The world could go crazy but it would be, well, less crazy. Because at least you know for certain that you have to protect her."

"Hmm." Aaron replied pensively, and then a lightning bolt struck his conscious mind. "I know who you are," he said in wonder.

"I'm your subconscious. Your hidden mind. I contain all your forgotten memories, all your errant thoughts."

"All my -- wait, that means -- "

"I can't tell you."

Aaron felt a vice grip his heart, crushing the sudden, blooming hope of getting his memories back. "Why not?" he said, sounding more pitiful than he intended.

"Something's preventing me to. I can't explain it. I just.. can't"

Aaron held the misery in the boy's voice. The younger version of himself stared bitterly at the glowing pool. He decided that the boy was telling the truth. After all, why lie?

In this situation? He looked around the impossibly enclosed, perfectly circular cave, the ethereal glowing pool, the mysterious younger version of himself sitting across from him. In this situation?

He sighed. Please let me just be crazy.

"Maybe we already are," his subconscious mind said "Maybe we already are crazy. But then, it really wouldn't change anything, would it? Not in this even-crazier world we found ourselves in."

He took a moment to absorb that, as if he hadn't thought of it already, after all this time. Somehow, having it spoken directly to him (if you could count this a conversation) really drove it into him, and he felt like he could better make peace with his situation now. Aaron felt the little bubble of hysteria at the back of his mind recede just a little bit.

So he really can read minds, he thought.

Aaron heard himself sigh from across the puddle. "Yes, I can read your thoughts. More accurately, I am your thoughts."

Aaron grinned. He finally did it like in the movies.

* * *

Aaron was dying. There was no other way about it.

It was a miracle he even survived this long, in Lydia's opinion. The trek through the jungle couldn't have been in any form gentle, and it wreaked havoc with the young man's already-battered body. He was bruised in several areas, bloodied by little cuts in some places. Upon further inspection, they found out that the arrow lodged itself in his right shoulder muscles and emerged right under his collar bone in his front. It broke a rib and dashed any hopes of a less-painful extraction.

Lydia remembered loosing strength in her knees as the wolf woman swiftly and brutally removed the broken arrow from Aaron's body. She could see right through the wound for several moments -- the image bordered by raw, torn muscles and bits of what looks like bones -- before it filled up freely with blood. The woman was muttering in her own language the whole time, and there were a few moments when Lydia thought she was trying to convince herself that she knew what she was doing.

The young woman had to stop herself from vomiting. Human bodies were not made to be poked with holes like that.

They managed to stop the bleeding with strips cloth from her old cloak tied tightly around his shoulders, padded with a layer of a variety of ground leaves that the wolf woman prepared herself. She thought it was somewhat appropriate; her old life dismantled, used to preserve her future one.

They took off his tunic and did their best to clean him up with whatever was available to the pair -- which were mostly leaves and watery fruits, which the wolf woman gathered in abundance. Even cleaned up and smelling like fresh fruits, Aaron looked like death. He was all too still and pale, his chest only barely moving whenever he breathes. The young woman felt her heart clench.

She sighed and gazed at the unconscious young man.

It's not really so easy to tell why she would be so attached to him, after meeting him for only a day. His face, without his shining eyes, looks unassuming. Somewhere between angular and rounded, with slight definition to his cheekbones and jawline a passing resemblance to the Easterners with their hard angles. He was tall, but not by much, and nothing of the regal build of the people of Var Syndal. And she's never seen gray eyes and curly black hair together. The sea-farers of the south had black hair, but they straight, and the Amales were not pale in any way. Eyes as pale-gray as his were very uncommon, too.

Searle was a melting pot of the Human races, and Lydia has seen more than her fair share of different kinds of humanity, but she has never seen anyone like him.

Maybe that was a part of the reason.

But if she was being true to herself, a big part of it was how he almost single-handedly sparked the fires that led to her escape. The wit, the cunning, the indomitable confidence that he had. This man Aaron had literally used nothing but his spit and guile to facilitate their escape, her chains now pieces of burning bits of chaos behind her. She marveled at that power. She felt herself get wet.

"Gods forsaken." She muttered to herself. This was not the time.

But she remembered how he felt. How he tasted. Her limbs could still recall the ways they were stretched, her core still feeling the space that he left behind within her. Lydia squirmed, did her best to calm herself. She took a deep breath and stared fondly at the unconscious young man. She really did not want him to die.

The thought sobered her, some. As sudden was this ray of hope that warmed her, she does not want it to fade just as fast. Lydia sat cross-legged beside Aaron's prone body, her back leaning on the 'wall' of their dwelling, fussing with the broad, downy-looking leaves that the wolf-woman used as an improvised blanket for the young man. Doing nothing useful.

But then, a small part of her was simply waiting for him to die.

There was always that small portion of her brain that assumed the worst. As much as she loathed it, as much as she wanted to keep away from it -- that part of her has always kept her alive without fail.

What would she do? How would she survive in this hostile, unfamiliar jungle? Her mysterious companion seemed particularly dedicated to keeping her safe -- was that because she thought of Lydia as an ally, or because of an attachment to Aaron, whom the creature seems to understand? At best, Aaron would recover, and they would struggle to make it out of the jungle. At worst, the wolf woman would flee once Aaron died, and she would be left alone, waiting to die.

So she quietly thought, and prayed to the few gods she knew that the quick-witted young man with the pale eyes would live.

She sighed. Lydia did not even know what she was supposed to do anymore. Aaron was taken care of as well as could be managed in their situation. Their temporary dwelling had been tidied up as much as possible, fresh layers of thick, broad leaves blanketing the mulchy soil. Similar treatment has also been given to the outside of their abode; the hugeness of the tree gave it an illusion of strength that was belied by some rotten parts. The layers of leaves would make a fine makeshift roof in case of rain.

Lydia looked around. The whole place still looked wild, as one would expect a felled giant tree in the middle of the Great Forest would look wild, but at least now it actually looked marginally habitable. There was even a small pile of fruits that the woman collected a little while ago.

"What else can I do?" she wondered aloud. It seemed like everything needed doing, but there was nothing that she could do.

The sounds of the forest answered her, confirming her thoughts.

'No' she thought adamantly, shaking her head. There was always something that she could do. Determined, Lydia got up to look for the woman -- and paused.

Silver, she thought, liking the sound of the new name in her mind, the first thing I'll do is try to talk to Silver.

Lydia found Silver amidst the bushes -- which was not saying much, truthfully, since there were bushes everywhere. But she was relieved to see they were only a few paces from their makeshift camp. Silver was kneeling on the ground, hunched over a particularly thick tangle of vines and bushes, facing completely away from Lydia.

A fleeting thought passed her mind about how much more the woman looked like a beast in this position, her furred limbs and distinguishing tail extending out from her borrowed cloak so different from that of a human's. But that passed as quickly as it came. She wondered if she should clear her throat, since the woman did not seem to notice her approach -- but before she could, Silver glanced behind and saw her.

"Uh," she said, feeling like she was caught doing something that she wasn't supposed to do.

The woman's ears twitched, large triangles sitting regally atop her snow-white head, and for a second she felt compelled to reply to the twitch like it was telling her something.

"I- I wanted to see if I could do something to help"

Silver seemed to consider her for a bit. Lydia realized that she couldn't have understood what she was saying, but then Silver motioned her closer. Lydia joined the kneeling woman.

On the ground were several clumps of a very strange plant. Lydia thought that she had seen their shape before -- they looked like some of the exotic stalls in the port market in Searle, with a wide round roof on top and a thin stick supporting its weight from the center, erected to the ground. Back in Searle, the roofs looked like they were made from brightly colored hides, except that there were no seams and no animal could possibly have a hide that wide. She always thought they looked funny, but their strange designs never failed to draw curious patrons to their wares.

She never thought that she'd see them again, so far from home. But now here she was, staring at a small replica of them growing from the ground.

Fascinated, she reached out a hand to touch the plants, but Silver stopped her. Lydia was shaken out of her reverie when the wolf woman suddenly began pouring out a stream of words in a brisk tone, giving her the impression that Silver was scolding her. The woman stopped as abruptly as she began, perhaps realizing that Lydia understood absolutely none of her words, and then gave her a determined look.

She pointed at the plant, made a grasping motion, and then choked herself.

Lydia swallowed, "Um, I apologize. I won't take the plant from you." She gestured accommodating motions, trying to tell Silver that the plant was hers to take. She blinked at the apologetic young woman, and furiously shook her head.