Nemo (AoA)

When I sleep, I see things with my heart that can't be seen with eyes alone.

It's always been there with me--but it happens most when I am "one." Lately, because I haven't seen Ally in ages, it happens a lot, and I sleep all the time. I think it worries Mr. Beard. He went out and I laid down to sleep, and when I woke up he was back, but he was upset because he had been gone a long time and I slept the whole while. But I thought he would be happy because I don't need to eat when I'm sleeping so much--food is expensive in this country.

When I'm sleeping, I'm never alone--Al-chan is there with me. I call him Al-chan because he's funny. He and I look at the same things, and he usually explains what they mean. The things we see are those things that you can't see with your eyes; Al-chan says we see them with our heart, and it's our brains that make them appear in images so that we can understand them and interpret them.

Like, over and over I see five stars. Sometimes they're up in the sky, and they're like little pinpoints of light up against a big black sky. Sometimes they're hidden inside flowerbuds, and then the flowers bloom and the stars float out. Sometimes they're inside fruit hanging off a tree, and someone comes by and takes one of the fruits and eats it; then I can see a star in their belly, even though they don't seem aware of the light.

Al-chan is sometimes a meanie and doesn't explain things. He says they're too important. "What do YOU think it means, Ceecee?" he asks infuriatingly.

"I dunno, it's hard!" I complain.

"Try to think about it," he urges.

I consider it a while. "Well, the five stars are like--five people who have special power. That's what that light is."

He nods happily. "That's right. Five people have special powers that are preventing the Black Samurai from obtaining his goal."

"But what is that goal?"

"Why don't we think on it?"

We drift through dreams together again, he and I. I concentrate hard on the Black Samurai. I have to find him and find out what he's doing so I can protect everyone--Ally, Papa, Mr. Facebeard, everyone. Then, the Black Samurai appears. I dunno what he looks like outside of dreams, but in my dreams he has a dark aspect and is surrounded by shadows so that I can't make out his face well. Sometimes, I dream of him as an angel with white wings; then something goes wrong, and he plummets from Paradise, and his feathers turn black and peel off as he falls down.

"Ooh, ooh, I know what this one means, Al-chan!" I say excitedly. "He has an illness and he's dying. That's why he went all black."

Al-chan smiles at me. "Very good, Ceecee! And look at his face."

"He doesn't look angry or scared... he looks sad. I don't think he's trying to stop himself from falling at all...." I think on it a bit. "So, he wants to die?"

Al-chan nods. "It's also loneliness that made him sick."

One of the other things I dream about that man is him playing a game. I can't see who he's playing against but I can feel that his opponent hates him a lot. I can see two boys standing behind the players. Onii-chan is behind the Black Samurai, watching the board, and a blond-haired boy is behind the other person. This dream makes me feel scared. I think if one of the players falls, then person standing behind has to sit and play, and I can feel that only the person who wins will be alive at the end.

"But why, Al-chan? If he doesn't want to live, why is he playing to win...?"

"Because sometimes we want to win more than anything else. Some people love winning more than living."

The dream around us changes again. A huge gnole is bounding through a thick forest, chasing something ahead--it's a white hare that glows inside. He catches the bunny but stands over it protectively, growling at the dark forest all around. But then the hare hides in his tummy, and now the gnole is shining all white.

"What about this one, Ceecee?" Al-chan asks.

"Well.... the gnole feels kind of like Papa...." I squirm uncomfortably. "I don't like this dream."

"Why not?"

"Because Papa might be sad... I don't like it when he's sad."

"Don't worry, Ceecee," Al-chan reassures me. "Your Papa will be okay." He pauses. "You have a choice to make soon though, don't you?"

It feels like I turn around, and I see Ally and Mr. Facebeard standing side-by-side there, looking at me. They don't seem to see each other. I feel cold all over, especially in my tummy. "Yes," I whisper. "I have to choose which one, don't I?"

Al-chan puts his hand on my shoulder. "I'm not going to be able to see you anymore, Ceecee," he says softly, and I can see his hand is glowing.

"I'm gonna miss you, Al-chan," I say really softly, but he was already gone.

I'm scared to wake up. I wanna dream forever. They'll end up so sad, won't they--they might even hate me. What do I do....?

I don't want to choose.

Snowfall

((*blows dust off the blog*))

-----

If you knew you only had one night to live in this world.... how would you spend it?

With whom would you die?

...

I would die alone.

-----

Snow whipped down from the sky, but he didn't feel it, despite being stripped to the waist and kneeling on the frozen ground. Gui'cul, a twisted golden-skinned Cryptonberry, laughed in his crude and dusty voice, and dug his clawed hand into Alberic's back.

"Does it hurt, child of Altana?" he hissed into Alberic's pointed ear, the Elvaan's sagging head putting him at eye-level with the deformed creature. Gui'cul twisted his claws into the thick black grooves of the intricate scars that marred Alberic's back, and Alberic gritted his teeth, the muscles in his arms trembling as they struggled to hold him upright. Blood and sticky white pus dripped down from the Cryptonberry's claws.

"Where are the gods, child of Altana? They are silent."

Lyall, also shirtless under the blizzard, surged forward, but even he did not dare lay a hand on the Cryptonberry. After all--they were here on the Glacier outside of dark Pso'Xja for his guidance. "Leave him alone!" Lyall shouted. "This isn't teaching him anything--it's just sadism!"

Gui'cul laughed again, the sound like a snake's belly slithering across cermet. "Is it, gnole-whelp?"

The Cryptonberry drifted away, impervious to the snow, his long greeny-gold robes trailing in the snow, and he raised his beaked maw to the steel-gray sky overhead. "You two children came to me, came to the remnants of a dying race, to learn dark secrets. You wished to reach for that primal power that enabled us to survive for ten thousand years. What was that power?"

Alberic lifted his head and spoke from between gritted teeth, his eyes grim. "Hate."

"That's right," Gui'cul hissed, looking over his shoulder at the pair. "The gods have abandoned Kuluu and Zilart alike. Lord Diabolos did not save anyone--and Lord Bahamut laughs at your agony, child of Altana." He whirled then, and his body arced with lightning as he channeled a powerful blast into Alberic's body; the Elvaan fell, howling and writhing, and Lyall again surged forward, but the torment was over as soon as it began.

"And the gods did nothing!" Gui'cul screeched triumphantly. "Let go of your vanity and useless pride--before the power that is hatred, we are all as nothing! We are mere conduits for the greatest power that all Vana'diel can produce--not cheap conjurers tricks, not abasement before uncaring gods, but the power that is hatred made by our will into arcane force!"

Alberic looked up, and tendrils of steam rose from his hands, resting against the snow-studded ground. Lyall, gripping his friend's shoulders, also looked over at Gui'cul, and rage emanated from him as if it was a physical force. Gui'cul smiled, the expression terrifying on his ancient face.

"You hate. This is good."

-----

I can't bear to see you with her. When I look at your happy faces, I feel empty inside. It makes me hate you both, even though you've been nothing but kind to me.

It's because I stole something like that for myself, and then I let it go before it could be taken away.

It's easier to just hate everything. It's easier to hate myself than try to feel anything else.

-----

As part of their training, Gui'cul made them give up what they had brought with them to Pso'Xja. Alberic piled what seemed like endless harps and flutes onto a stack of kindling, then his ornate silken cannions and seraweels, lush fabrics that he had earned for bardic performances from all over Vana'diel. Lyall, perhaps thankfully, had brought with him little, but had to reluctantly surrender a curved scimitar from the Empire. Together, the two reached out together to black magic to set the bonfire alight. Lyall's face was troubled as he watched the pile ignite; Alberic's was indifferent, even cold.

He took to wearing hooded cloaks with long sleeves and thick gloves, hiding every bit of his body as if to wrap himself, mummy-like, away from the entire world. Days would go by without the pair encountering anyone save Gui'cul, though Loo often made the perilous journey out to Pso'Xja to visit. Whenever she would do so, Alberic would retreat and allow the pair their time alone, and he would say little to anyone for some time afterward.

If time passed outside of that place, it seemed to do so without Alberic's involvement. Past, present, and future no longer mattered; the future had ceased to capture his attention. He specialized in ice and thunder magic, and Gui'cul set them to attacking his fellow Cryptonberries, blasting apart Summoner's elementals as he cackled at their side. "Summoners," he would say darkly, "are all weak. They pray impotently to the gods, and see with what they are rewarded--soulless shades by their sides that are so easily removed, and no real power among them! Anger, rage, hatred, passion, these alone are the source of true magic, not begging to higher beings!"

Lyall was more skilled at fire magic, and many nights it was only his skill at producing flame that gave them a warm place to sleep. Despite his seeming impatience with the process and his open distrust of Gui'cul, Lyall never wavered or left Alberic's side, and worked away at learning black magic just as diligently as the Elvaan. Together, they learned how to channel the tumultuous magics, how to twist time and space, how to fling themselves into the nether and back out again, and how to stand on the precipice of madness and wield what power lies there.

-----

I don't love you.

He took everything from me. I allowed him to take everything from me. I made him take everything from me.

I don't want to see the future anymore. I don't want to feel anything anymore, or think, just act.
I want to be able to fight, even if I don't know what for. I want to fight for a future where I die alone, because if I can't be with you then I don't want to be with anybody.