Paul
Thank you for the invitation.
“Oh, sure, I guess?”
Your mindscape is a sacred place. You must never permit your enemies to enter.
He’d long since inured himself to the sensation of being in two places at once. On the one hand, he hid, watching Lea, Kenta, and Cassie occupy the beast. On the other, his Mindscape’s Little Me stood beside Pharos—in her humanoid form.
She was naked and yet not. On the one hand, Pharos had the stunning body of a supermodel. On the other, how could she be nude without anatomy? Pharos carved her feminine form from metal, glass, and light.
Her frame was pure polished gold with silver filigree. Shining glass lenses lay in the hollow of her neck, wrists, and ankles like jewelry with larger windows at the navel, palms, and shoulder blades. She wore a symmetrical glass helmet of angular sections and concentric rings on four faces with no clear front or human features. The intensity of her internal radiance was far withheld compared to the great beam, probably for Paul’s benefit, allowing him to look at her without shielding his eyes.
Pharos caught him staring. This old thing? She waved at herself. I needed a form your mind could contain. Her light flickered in time with the sound of her Voice.
“You’re gorgeous!” Paul blurted.
Charmer, she touched his cheek gently with a golden hand and wiped a bead of wax from his face, I bet you’ll be a lady killer when you grow up. She giggled. You should’ve seen me when I was young—I shone so brightly in the early days. Oh, how the luster fades with age…
Paul followed her lead as she strolled towards his inner world’s home.
A cottage? How quaint.
There was something special about her walk as if she’d lived here millennia and knew every blade of grass and molehill by name. Her balance was perfect, her idle stance sturdy as an ancient tower.
“How are you doing that?” he asked, indicating her feet.
Her radiance blueshifted a shade happier. One of the abilities you’ll soon enjoy. On your every step, you’ll know your surroundings like lighthouse built there to watch over them. This is Claircognizance pertaining to your actions in the immediate future.
“Isn’t that like a Chiropteran’s ability to hear the future?”
No, came Pharos’ heated redshift reply, No. They’re nothing alike. Listening is passive, inherently reactive. My magic is proactive, dependent on your imagination. I’ll give you a brief tutorial later.
Looking around his inner world again, he wondered, “What are we doing here?”
Our time is short for explanations. Do as I say.
As beings of refinement, we eliminate our most distasteful task first. Paul braced himself. You shall have to, she paused here to quiver in disgust, Press your lips to one of those revolting creatures.
Paul stopped in his tracks. “Wait, I have to kiss one of my friends?”
If I were you, I’d choose the very skinny one. The less meat on it, the better.
“Daniel?—He’s a boy!”
I haven’t kept track of their biology, and I don’t intend to start now. More importantly, I see that one is a Child of Perses. That pick would’ve been unwise. You can decide for yourself as long as I’d don’t have to look at them anymore…oily skin, guts full of foul-smelling bacteria and gurgling noises, dandruff in their hair, dirt under their nails, decaying food between their teeth, messy, smelly, fluids everywhere…
While Pharos ranted, Paul thought to himself. I’d prefer to kiss a girl. Lea is out of my league… Wendi is trapped…
:Cassie! Come here; I need a favor!:
:I’d love to, Paul, but I’m a little busy!: Jaws snapped under her feet as the bat girl pumped her wings to gain elevation.
:This is urgent!: he said, desperate to convince her. Then he had a brilliant idea, :Listen to the future and see for yourself.:
:You know I hate those dumb vision-centric idioms—Ack!: Cassie lost control for an instant, then course-corrected and flew to Paul—leaving the others to deal with the beast.
“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Her voice was softer and gentler than he’d known possible. She worried for him. Paul wouldn’t ask what she’d seen. His courage was better off not knowing.
Cassie landed and approached. He knew she wouldn’t blindly obey if this killed them, which meant whatever the deal cost him was worth it. “Yes,” he said, putting all his confidence into that word. “I need you to kiss me.”
Paul couldn’t believe he’d gone and said it. Anxiety shot through him while he waited for her to respond with objections and anger, to berate him for presumption, outright refusal… laughter.
Instead, she nodded, placed her wings on his shoulders, leaned forward, and kissed him—right cheek to right cheek as he kissed back. Paul wondered about her lack of resistance or reservations, even if this wasn’t full on the lips. He’d expected it to be a big deal, built it up in his head for a long time, fantasized about this moment and this girl—his first kiss.
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Paul couldn’t smell her hair, couldn’t feel her breath on his neck, and barely felt the weight of her arms on his shoulders. However, she was there, putting herself in his space, breathing his air, and touching him tenderly. That was enough.
Visualize the flow of magic through your bodies. An overlay of glowing lines appeared to Paul, veins and arteries of magic connecting them at the lips as time dripped like honey. Reach into the core of your being and draw forth a sliver of your lifeforce—one year of your lifespan. Paul struggled until Pharos continued, Imagine it happening, and reality will bend the knee.
He pictured the bright center of his being, his spiritual heart, and unraveled a portion. Though startled by the vision’s responsiveness to his thoughts, Paul got the hang of it in short order.
Now give it to her. Don’t worry; we can retrieve it later.
The little bundle of life energy journeyed through the nadis of his body to enter Cassie through his lips on her cheek and flow into her core. There, his lifeforce grafted itself onto hers without losing the color or consistency identifying it as his.
The process ejected an equal portion of her lifeforce, which completed the circuit flowing through her lips into his body. The feel of her essence inside him was strangely his favorite part of the whole experience… more real than anything else.
If Paul’s body was numb to the world, this was how he’d always imagined sensations. Fluttering and delicate, it emanated warmth, tasted sharp and sweet, smelling clean and dry and dark. It settled into the place in his core he’d given up like a bird in its nest, entering his heart like a promise he would never be alone.
On her shirt by the golden emblem of her race, a metal candle pin appeared. At the same time, a silver pendant grew around his neck. The Paul in his head raised the necklace to dangle a hanging bat figurine with large ears. He caught something on his cheek and found another tear—he’d been crying again.
“What did we just do?” he said to Pharos as he turned to her, “What did you just do?”
Nothing irreversible. You can get rid of the creature now; we’re done with it. I hope you didn’t get any fluids on you. By the way, you weren’t intending to kill her later, were you?
“No!” the Paul in his head shouted.
Good. As a side effect, she’s been inoculated to your magic somewhat. You gain a minor resistance to her sonic attacks, so that’s fair. Also, we’ll never make it in time if you dawdle.
They reached the cottage as Paul pestered her for answers. “I don’t care how much time we have; I need an explanation!”
I thought you’d be happy about this; didn’t you want an ‘out?’ I won’t have anyone saying I took advantage of them while they had no other options. She saw he didn’t understand, Paul, what does one do if their candle goes out?
He wondered if this were a test. “Relight it.”
Exactly. Your little friend has some of your fire now. Merely a spark but as long as she keeps it lit, she can rekindle you later.
Pharos opened the door to the cottage.
Whenever he’d entered his Mindscape, Paul rarely gave his inner world more than a passing glance on his way to whoever he’d connected with. He knew his own home, didn’t he?
Yet pitch-black shadows clung to the corners like cobwebs. Everything, from the furniture to the doormat to the pictures on the walls, felt familiar but also unfamiliar. This feeling of trepidation from crossing a floor he’d walked thousands of times unnerved him.
Pharos examined the framed photos on the shelves, tables, and walls. Though he didn’t remember these pictures, Paul recognized them instantly.
Here was his room in the Facility, there was uncle Lumière finding the cottage, another was Daniel releasing Lea from imprisonment, the time he met Cassie, and so on. Except some of them were things he’d never have taken a picture of. Here was the tremendous beast which nearly caught them when they found John and Gaja’s bodies, there was a wide spread of Red Tail the Hawk and the valley he’d devastated, and another was a haunting image of Moloch the demon whose tar-pool eyes followed Paul everywhere.
For every single picture, no matter the subject, Pharos tapped it once with a finger. A globe of glass materialized around her targets. She swept through the rooms of his house with ethereal grace and efficiency. There were no missteps, wasted movements, or hesitation, each perfect step part of a meticulously planned route executed with the absentmindedness of someone concentrating on other problems.
Paul, I realize your options are limited in the Wilderness. You know I don’t care if you like girls, boys, or whatever but, when you do find a partner—promise me it’ll be a nice… Inorganic.
“There’s no way I’m making that promise.” Paul was too absorbed in discerning her goal to process Pharos’s words at first, and then he panicked, “Wait, is that what happened?”
Not exactly, unless… where did you kiss her again? I wasn’t looking.
“T-t-the c-cheek…”
You’re fine. That’s more like a blood oath.
Pharos climbed the stairs to the second floor, tapping every decoration on the walls. After briefly visiting his uncle’s room, they came to Paul’s. Somehow, the place which should be the most comforting seemed the most alien. For one thing, his bed faced the wrong way. Besides that, there were things here he neither remembered nor recognized. The strangest thing, though, was the low whisper of unintelligible words. He couldn’t decide when they’d started. Maybe they’d always been there, but now the words were loud enough to almost recognize.
The foot of the bed faced a large flatscreen television on the wall opposite the door. Its screen blared static. The head of the bed had two identical nightstands on the left and right, symmetrical except for the objects they bore. An unfamiliar iron-handled kerosene lantern sat on the left, burning low and dim. The right held a bright flaming candle in its metal holder, as well as a pretty pink conch shell.
Pharos reached for the shell and tossed it to him. After a terrible instant thinking he’d drop it, Paul got a firm grip and clutched it to his chest. You might want to hold onto that.
The curves and spikes of the unusual spiral shell reminded Paul of a deep, winding cavern or maybe an ear. It vibrated in his hands, and, on impulse, he brought the opening to his ear.
“Are you sure you want to go through with this?”
Startled, Paul almost dropped the shell again. He’d heard a perfect, living echo of Cassie’s voice. This he knew was Cassie in a way—the piece of her lifeforce she’d given him.
Without waiting for him, Pharos investigated the television.
That’s odd, she said as the screen screamed white noise. It was the kind of thing a doctor said when they found a suspicious spot on your MRI in a medical drama show.
“What?”
Your Dreamscape should be blank while you’re awake. Black as Night.
Pharos dismissed it as she returned to Paul at the head of the bed. Dried wax accumulated on the edge of the mattress and pooled below where Paul would place his head to lay on the pillow without his flame burning the sheets… As if he slept here nightly—though he hadn’t. Couldn’t have. He’d remember this room otherwise.
There are a few things that don’t add up about you, Paul Pathfinder. I can tell you’re a smart kid. You’ve shown nothing but intelligence and bravery during the time we’ve had together. I know you were taught by a respectable teacher. You were challenged, beset with problems only you could solve, and given many opportunities to learn from your mistakes.
On top of all that, this is your prime development period. This is the time for you to learn about yourself and the world. Yet here you stand, with no more candelabra branches than the day you were born.
The whispers intensified to a crescendo, the fact he couldn’t understand the words maddening.
It’s almost as if… Pharos raised a hand, Your growth was—stunted.
The hand plummeted to tear the pillow from the bed, revealing something black and slithering on the white sheets. Crude hands and tar-slick tongues writhed together, taking the shape of a leech with teeth made of dirty fingernails. Through the static, Moloch’s face flashed onto the Dreamscape screen, oil-slick eyes watching Paul.