Between the warmth of the fire, and my own superheated embarrassed face, I feel ready to pass out again. Thankfully, or maybe not so thankfully, I remain standing, and conscious, forced to endure more of the nudges and sly brow waggles and so on from the pair of Tiago and Teuila. Ugh, I should, I don’t know, chew out Luni for cluing Teuila in on this stuff. I mean, I think it was her.
Critterkin don’t really have the concepts unless someone brings it up. We’ve got weird database style knowledge available, so we sort of know everything right from the start. We just have to be made aware of what to think about to pull up the memory files, or something. It’s weird, like I said, we’re somehow part digital in nature. Me less than most critterkin, since I bleed blood rather than polygons. Oh heavens, we need to keep Teulia from being injured around anyone if we’re trying to keep a low profile. If me bleeding light was a strange sight, imagine how people would react to someone bleeding dark-blue-outlined hollow triangles that float upward and vanish.
Tiago wipes a tear of mirth from his eye, and motions us to make our way behind the shop, into the living area where the fire crackles pleasantly. There are several bits of plush furniture set out, including love-seat style chairs set up, and a long couch. I guess it might actually be a fainting couch, and it might double as a sort of operating table.
Teuila drags me to one of the loveseats, and lightly tosses me into a seated position, while she leaps into the air to flop across my lap. While reclined, she gleefully asks, “Do you think we could get Spice or Sugar to make one of these when we get home? It’s perfect for snuggles!”
She sits up and wedges herself against me playfully before it dawns on her what she asked. There’s a tiny hiccup that’s audible only to me as she holds back a sob. Her face resting in the crook of my neck doesn’t give away the tears that flow momentarily.
I first whisper, “Someday, we’ll make it home someday.” I continue slightly more audibly to try to soothe Teuila, “I, um, I’m pretty sure, yes. Spice loves designing, and even if they were too busy to actually build it, we could, um, well. If Spice handed us the plans, we can gather pretty much any material on our world, and we could maybe try our hand at making it ourselves.”
This gets a slight giggle out of Teuila as she asks, “Have you ever even held a tool that wasn’t a weapon?”
My response is a vacant, “Uhhhhhh.” For far too long, which sends Teuila into a fit of the giggles.
She’s sort of right. I always relied on my inventory magic to do my crafting for me, other than one time, handcrafting gifts. Well, since early on. Since, since the earliest point. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it. I’m here, she’s here, we’re here. It’s now, it’s today, it’s Rayileklia. My pulse rapidly hammers so hard that my tinnitus screams a ringing noise in response, drowning out even Teuila’s beautiful laughter right next to my face. The time. The time that I, before I started using my inventory magic for almost everything. That time was that day. It was Day One.
I try to grasp the edges of a pit as the chair opens up its toothy maw beneath me, chomping down on me to gobble me up. I’m sent spiraling and tumbling into the abyss of its innards, then I’m spat out into every vaguely pareidolic face in the wood grains about the room. Everything that can, could, or would be a toothy maw opens up and reaches out for me. Even things that shouldn’t. My vision tunnels and widens in rapid succession back and forth. I whimper as tears of fear stream down my cheeks.
Suddenly, after what seems an eternity of madness, I’m aware of a brilliant flower bud in front of my face. It’s a blindingly bright mini luma tulipa. Teuila is squeezing me close while stroking my hair. Tiago is asking her questions, and she’s responding for me. Tiago kneels before me and cups my free hand, the one that isn’t trapped behind Teuila. He seems to be trying to say soothing things. When I’m unable to respond, he disappears for a few moments, and returns with a flask that contains a dropper. I think he asks Teuila for permission, and she helps him open my jaw.
A bitter tasting liquid rolling around my tongue, being absorbed into my gums and swallowed in equal parts starts to clear my tinnitus, slowly. After a while, the snapping maws fade away, and I’m aware of my breathing enough to try to slow it down. I suck down several breaths, gulp back several sobs, and let loose a phlegmy cough. I furiously rub my wet, itchy-eyes, and avert my gaze from everyone, ashamed at succumbing to my trauma in such a safe, welcome place, with Teuila right next to me.
I mumble, “I’m sorry.”
My apology is met with confused responses of care. I think Tiago is berating me for being sorry, in Spanish. Telling me not to be so hard on myself. Teuila tries to lighten the mood, but I’m still only barely returning to reality, so I can’t quite laugh with her yet. I do turn to meet her gaze lovingly though. That’s enough. I think that’s enough, for the both of us. As long as we have this. No matter how many times, I’ll make it back. As long as she’s here waiting, even if I need help to do it, I can fight my way back. Eventually at least. I have to. I can’t leave her trapped here, with me trapped in my own mind. Never again she said. She’s willing to do almost anything to keep that from happening. She shared our pain with Tiago. Enough that he could make a proper diagnosis, and aid me with what is likely an anti-psychotic.
Why do I think I know anything about drug classifications? Would alchemy or apothecary stuff have anything to do with Earthen drug classifications?
Tiago mutters, “I didn’t think it would work, honestly. He returned, still complaining. I guess he really was seeing ghosts possessing someone. Or maybe not taking it after all. Seeing it so effective, I wish I’d purchased enough ingredients to make more.”
Huh, it sounds like Tiago tried to help someone by using that medication, or potion, before. Sounds like it didn’t work out, one way or another. Maybe the science of medicine isn’t as advanced here pharmacologically as my memories of fakeworld. Still, Earth is, well, it’s mysterious. If I asked someone about science that pertained to Earth while on Can’Z’aas it would often end up being met with confusion. If I asked it here, someone knowledgeable enough might actually agree with the science of Earth. Why is that?
I try to reclaim my senses as I state, “Thank you, both. I hate that I carry that with me. I hate that it affects me so much. I hate that my own brain can accidentally trigger it by following a thought train to the wrong words or phrases. I just, I hate being so, so, so weak against it. It’s miserable.”
Teuila gingerly conks me on the noggin’, saying, “Hey, you’re not weak. It’s a thing you deal with. It sucks, but you bear it and go on, you always have. Like Lu says, always have, always will. Maybe we can help you against it sometimes, maybe we can’t, but you’ll always win in the end.”
While gazing down at the two of us, Tiago asks, “Will you two be alright for a moment? I trust you not to get into any trouble, if you please. I just remembered I have to help George with the herbs and grain stores this eve.”
Teuila and I both nod, comprehending, and acquiescing, but mostly caught up in our own little world. Tiago makes a motion that I don’t quite catch out of the corner of my eye, and heads outside. I reach up to touch Teuila’s cheek, and she nuzzles my hand affectionately, while clasping it with her hands.
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We both start, “I was—“ and laugh as we try to allow the other to talk first. Teuila nudges me roughly, indicating she won’t relent, so I can start.
I begin, “I was thinking, wondering almost. We’ve spent so many years in thinkspace Teuila. Are we those people though when we’re out here? I mean, no, that’s not what I mean to ask. It’s more like, well. Hm. Do you ever get the feeling that our story is in two separate parts?”
Te raises an eyebrow, answering with a question, “What do you mean? I’m still me, in and out of my head, even if I have a hard time showing it. Is that what this is about boogerbuns?”
I quickly shake my head and place up my hands, “No, no no no, not like that. You’re wonderful, in and out of your head. Please don’t worry about that, like I said, I’m here for you, we’ll figure out how to work around that, or get our telepathic link back, or something. I have a hard time not going down mental rabbit holes, which, well, you’re well aware of. I’ve got these dreams of Aces, maybe more than two parts, maybe like, three. Our tale of bliss within our minds, our dangerous-yet-rewarding life with our family on Can’Z’aas, and some fated adventure that somehow always had to happen, here, on Rayileklia.”
Teuila scratches her chin and leans back, playfully balancing more weight across my lap as she stretches over the arm of the chair. After she comes to a conclusion, she shares it with me, “I still think it’s all just us. Maybe we’ve always had some weird destiny or fate, and maybe that fate has some big breaks in it or some big parts that are like their own stories, I don’t know, maybe. What I do know though, is, well. I know that I chose you, and you chose me. That wasn’t just some story that was written out for us. We did that. We lived through the Night of High Water.”
Teuila looks somber for a moment, before she suddenly cheers up and continues, “You were twitterpated before I had even really introduced myself to you, and I couldn’t help but feel the same way back. Um, you know. But that’s because of my feelings, my strengths, my wants. And maybe a little bit your soul’s aura, and, um, your—,” she covers her hand with her mouth as she fakes coughing, “koff-scent-koff-and-koff-gorgeous-koff eyes. Just a little.”
She seems to virtually be steaming from her ears with embarrassment, having come so close to verbally admitting the names of some of her feelings. I didn’t quite hear all the words she was trying to cover up with her fake coughs, I only really heard eyes. Te tries to recover, stuttering slightly, “An, an, anyway, yeah, um. Everything after that, that’s us, our life. If it’s a story, and there’s any chapter breaks or whatever, it’s all still just our life. I don’t think we have different stories, just an ever changing journey, just like everyone else.”
Hm, that’s true, I guess everyone’s lives go through changes, whether they expect them or not. Whether or not they can partially time travel, or almost die, or actually die several times. Though, that part may still be just us. Sort of. Or at least our family as a whole. Maybe. I guess I never really got to know any of the other critterkin families well enough to ask if they had anyone return as eggs. Or if they were even the same people that had been killed to be harvested as eggs, or remembered those lives. It just seemed like such a gruesome thing to try to ask about. I rub my palm across my forehead, downwards toward my eyes as I remember Eimsas, and all of our dealings with the city, and its surviving humans.
Teuila nudges me, getting around to what she was going to ask stuttering in the process, “I was wondering if you maybe wanted to slow down a bit? I, I, I know we both, I definitely, and you definitely. We, I know you want, we want, to get back to our family, to Lin, to everyone. But maybe this whole thing is a chance of its own. What if we miss something that could help us help them if we press too hard too fast and don’t pay enough attention?”
Oh Teuila, to admit that must have been so hard. You’re the strongest person in at least two universes. I smile lovingly at her as I try to respond, “I guess we still need to be careful, and we should maybe learn everything we can about all that we can, while we have access to resources and people. I have absolutely no idea what a lead would even look like, one that might clue us in on a way home. Or heck, even a lead to find a clue to find a lead.” I try not to scoff as I joke, “Who would we even ask about it? What would we say? Oh hey there fella, know anything about how to travel through a dead person’s soul into a world that somehow spawned as a universe within that soul?”
Puffing my cheeks to blow a breath through closed lips, I’m reminded of my fire-breathing buddy. I address that reminder, “I’m glad Lil’s taking a break from everything, and that Lil has Luni and Lucky while they get their head and heart sorted. We probably won’t make much progress before we reunite. I do still think we should at least take care of Autumn Brook’s problem, and try to find Taylynn or Selunie as quickly as possible. Just to let them know about Aces.”
Before Teuila can interrupt, as an explanation I add, “I’d be heartbroken if someone came with news, of, well, that kind of loss of someone I loved. It would suck. But I’d lament all the more every day that went by that I didn’t know it had already happened.”
Teuila scrunches her face, probably trying to not think too hard about getting that kind of news. She blurts out, “I’d kill the messenger. I mean. If that kind of news suddenly came about you. It, it would have to be a lie. I’m never letting you out of my sight again for longer than, I don’t know, like long enough to take a bath or have a private conversation or something. I’ll give you alone time if you need it, anything, whatever, but like, no, it just couldn’t happen. Never again.”
She clutches her stomach and vibratingly quivers at apparently the sickening thought of losing loved ones, “Still, if that kind of news came about Lu, or Dragbutt, or Hunter, or well, any of the fam. I’d. I’d. I’d freak out, and probably demand to know everything, like how long. I’d still probably threaten the messenger. I don’t know. I guess, yeah, maybe the ones here on this planet, that ‘Lunie and that Tay’ deserve to know. Huh.”
I think we both just realized that the two women in my dreams could have the same nicknames as our two gals. We both gaze at each other with realization dawning on our faces, but also disbelief. There can’t really be anything to that coincidence. Can there? Like, why would I be the only one with memory dreams or prophetic dreams or whatever if we were all these people? Though Luni seemed to like the Selunie character more than the Taylynn character for some reason.
Luni said that we weren’t ready to think about whatever similarities or weird connections Rayileklia might have to Can’Z’aas for some reason. She seemed to believe it was more for Teuila’s sake than anything. I’d rather go through a thousand deaths than hurt Teuila in any way, so maybe we should just drop the line of thought. Also, I know, going through a thousand deaths would hurt Teuila, so I’m being dumb with my metaphor. It’s why I didn’t tell her out loud. Well, that, and, I don’t know if even just talking about not talking about a certain topic might trigger some thought that somehow we aren’t ready for that hurts her in some way.
I can’t even imagine what we would need to be ready for anymore. We’ve already died, and we’ve come back once. If we were maybe those characters from my dreams, if they really all existed, and were Aces’ memories, well. Well. I. I don’t know. I don’t know why that could even possibly be a bad thing to think about. Unless I’m wrong, and by thinking about it, I might convince myself of something that isn’t true. I suppose that in and of itself could be harmful, I guess. Yeah, I suppose trying to insist to my inner circle that they lived as characters in one of my dreams in a different lifetime might be hurtful, depending on what happened during those lifetimes, especially if I’m wrong about my assumptions. Or, if I’m actually still on the verge of dying, and this is one last accelerated dream, whether or not the others are actually caught up in it, or, well, yeah. I guess there’s too many possibilities to be jumping to conclusions.
I can see Teuila’s expressions as she follows a similar train of thoughts. However, it’s obvious that at some point during the thought train, she just shrugs and throws the whole train out the window, abandoning it with the bathwater. I may be mixing my metaphors a bit. She smiles down at me and adopts a longer shrug, displaying her lack of interest in pursuing the topic further. I grin back up at her and wrap my arms around her waist tightly as I lean against my head her sleek, athletically-toned right bicep and the head of the loveseat. I rest my eyes for what seems to be a mere moment, yet when I open them, the soft rise and fall of Teuila’s breast in a soothing rhythm tells me that we both fell asleep for at least a short while.