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Quest of Despair
Chapter 50: The Grace Fields

Chapter 50: The Grace Fields

Veil One

Nate’s reflection multiplied in the mirrors, as though asking for parts of himself he was not ready to forfeit.

He went on strike, with his feet planted on the ground for hours. But struck by hunger and thirst, it forced him to glance in the mirror. The mirror showed an incident when he was five years old, and he let go of his mother’s hand. Overjoyed, he ran through a Sri Lankan market.

Intrusive photographers cornered him, blocking his path.

Mum arrived soon after, her grip on his hand so tight that it made his fingers ache. She scooped him up and shielded them both with her shopping bag. Forcing their way across the men.

“Aria! Aria! Just one photo! One!” they said, following them to their car. Tears ran down Nate’s face. She tried to console him, but to no avail.

When they got in the car, Mum was cross. “Next time, do what mummy says!”

Ethriel reappeared, a gust of wind shifted the surrounding fog.

“Why am I seeing this? It’s upsetting!” he said, doubling down. The adult men behaved in a vicious way.

“What do you see?”

“I see a naïve five-year-old wanting to explore only to be hounded by big people!” he buried his head in his hands. “It’s too much. Why am I seeing this?”

“The only way is through,” said Ethriel.

“If I hadn’t run away, those awful men would not have cornered us.”

“Where does it hurt?”

Nate hesitated. Was there a feeling somewhere in his body? “I don’t want this,” he said, giving up.

“Resisting will not get you through.”

Nate focused on his body. “Maybe a little nervous line of pain on my arm?”

“Try again. It’s either in your chest or in your stomach.”

In and out, Nate breathed to calm his nerves.

A slither of pain struck him. It was coming from his gut.

“Good,” said Ethriel. “Allow this pain to move through you.”

“How does one do that?” asked Nate.

“You invite it in.”

“I- I invite it in?” Nate shook his head. “It’s already there.”

Ethriel was silent.

Nate tried to concentrate on the spot of pain in his tummy. Okay, no harm in trying. I welcome it in. He repeated. The pain magnified. “Wait. I don’t like this!”

Ethriel closed his eyes to meditate.

The pain became excruciating, and then it disappeared the same way it came.

Nate gasped. “It’s gone!” his eyes widened. “It’s gone!” he said, getting up to dance.

He stopped. “Why are there no mirrors appearing? I was moving!”

Ethriel opened his eyes. “Because you’re not resisting,” he said, smiling.

***

Nate pondered. “Did Kenya have to go through this?”

“She did, alone.”

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“Alone!” said Nate. “Kenya alone here.” He shook his head. “Why?”

“She crossed before the tipping point. We let nature take its course,” he said.

Nate’s heart sank as he surveyed the waves of mirrors around him. He steeled himself, gritted his teeth, and faced his next regret like a gunslinger in the wild west. “I reckon the small mirrors are okay,” he murmured, his palms were clammy.

Hours went by.

There was just one large mirror left. His limbs were limp and heavy. More regrets from the scene in front of him. The relentless movement of the water left him feeling drained, mirroring the constant fluctuations of his inner state. “The only way is through,” said Nate, repeating Ethriel’s wise counsel. “I just, I just need a minute.”

He turned away from the large ornament mirror and another small mirror appeared.

“Okay! Okay!” he faced the large mirror and breathed in and out.

The mirror wave reflected a scene of Nate and Lauryn singing in the open jeep with his cousins.

The night sky was clear.

Warm for January.

They were crossing a Savannah in Zambia. Driving in zig zags.

A white owl appeared on the road, gazing at them. They slowed the car. The owl’s stare sent a chill down Nate’s spine.

They continued to the birth of a riverbed. They jumped on a raft and took off down the Zambezi River.

Heading into their fifth rapid. They lifted their paddles, ready to ride the crest. They dropped a couple of paddles on each other’s heads.

“Hey clumsy! Check your frigging paddle!” shouted his cousin Syd.

As they approached the rapid, the water made a concave shape in front of them that threatened to swallow the raft in its entirety. The rush of water rose on the sides, crashing into the raft. It thundered in Nate’s ears.

Their laughter echoed through the air, punctuated by joyous screams.

Further down the river, a group of men appeared with flashlights.

“Oh crap, are those paps?” asked Nate.

“Too dangerous! Get out of the water now!” the men shouted.

“We’ve done this before, many times.” Nate’s friend Benj replied, slurring and being dismissive.

“Get out of the water!”

“They’re right, Nut,” said Lauryn, glancing at Nate.

“Took us forever to lose my bodyguards,” he slurred. “We made it this far!”

Nate stopped. Averting his gaze from the mirror. “What is wrong with you all?” His voice was raspy. “What is wrong with this place?”

An overwhelming impulse to run rushed through him, but he restrained himself, aware that it would only add to the growing list of regrets. His arm slammed against the hard ground. He scanned his surroundings. No mirrors appeared.

Ethriel moved into an Aurial code and a mass of memory foam materialised. Nate rose to his feet and unleashed a satisfying kick on the foam. Then again. And again. He cursed. His profanity echoing in the open space. He punched the foam until, crying and exhausted, he slid onto the ground and lay there, hugging the foam and weeping.

***

Nate’s eyes were puffy and red from the tears.

The mirror flickered back to life, transporting him back into the scene.

“Get out of the water!” they insisted.

The raft careened down another rapid.

“Okay!” shouted Syd, laughing. “Paddles down and hard left!… Ride fast…”

They rode the crest paddles up for the first part and then, as per Syd’s instructions, they paddled hard in the hope the raft would stay upright. Nate revelled in nature’s might. Zero control over the water was a stark contrast to the power and comfort Nate had in Bellaton. He loved the adrenaline rush.

Until that day.

Nothing prepared him for what came next.

***

They left behind rapid number seven as the river roared louder and louder. Distanced from the alerting men.

“Laure, hold my hand,” he shouted over the crashing waves.

Nate averted his gaze. But he also knew avoiding it made it last longer.

He kicked the foam. Punched.

Facing the mirror again, Nate held Lauryn’s hand under a shower of heavy mist. Benj, Laine, and Syd gazed ahead at the rapid, their laughter echoing across the water, while Syd captured their adventure on his waterproof camera.

Again, they underwent another rapid, when, this time, it flipped! They clung to the rope, their knuckles turning white as the powerful water pulled them down. As they ascended, they gasped for air.

“Where are the others?” shouted Nate.

“Nate, help me!” shouted Lauryn.

He reached out to her. The fierce current tugged at their bodies. He went pale.

“Please, don’t let me go!” Lauryn’s expression twisted in terror.

But the raft collided with a rock.

As Nate scanned the turbulent water for Lauryn, his piercing cry echoed across the gorge.

Nate fell to his knees in defeat. “I killed her,” he said with eyes crimson. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

***

Caught in a tempest of water.

“Where are you? Lauryn!”

The water roared. He wanted to rip through the river and save her, but the raging water blinded him and pelted his body. Ten minutes later, the clamour of helicopters filled the sky, and they threw a safety net into the water, allowing the teens to be rescued.

After two hours, they found Lauryn’s body. The teens scrambled to understand as they carried her lifeless body onto the shore.

“I neglected her. Everyone. I was arrogant, feeling all-powerful,” he wept as the scenes of Lauryn’s funeral replayed in front of them. “I was responsible. For all of it!”

Nate was on the ground in a foetus position when a delicate butterfly fluttered around them. The haze lifted. Her small body looped in the air, her large, ornamented wings shimmering in the sun. As Nate beheld her, a wave of calm washed over him. The butterfly rested on Ethriel’s outstretched palm. Entranced, they stared at the butterfly, and the mirror scene transformed.

“The gateway is open,” said Ethriel.

“Which way?” Nate asked, his heart still heavy.

“The only way.”

Gazing at the imposing mirror, Nate whispered, “The only way is through.”