Why? Why are our most treasured memories the ones that are always locked in the back of our minds? You always believe that all your mournful memories are pushed away to keep you safe… but it is quite the opposite. It is the memories of innocence that vanish without a trace. No matter how hard you try to remember, you cannot relive your childhood — even in your memories. If you would think, the only glimpses of your innocent past exist, not in your mind, not in a place of non-existence, it's in the physical world, in reality. Pictures of your younger self along with loved ones. Objects that you once held when you were still happy. These all correlate to the memories you will never get back. You could say you remember those days, you remember your childhood. But you don't. One could only move on with the mundanity of their ongoing lives, a life devoid of innocence and simplicity.

That being said, there was one instance where you can not only catch a glimpse of the memories of your childhood but your entire lifetime. A moment where your train of thought is put to a halt. A moment where the seconds grow longer and longer, till eternity. The Moment of Death.

It is not necessarily the moment of death, where death is the only thing that succeeds. Rather, it's the moment where one's thread of life is being usurped, and they can either cling onto it until they surface back or rest and remember — relive — their life in all its entirety once again… forever.

That was what the man, the technorunner, who roamed the Outlands, chose.

(Abfe…)

A sound, or voice, echoed throughout the depths. It was distorted, but not enough to not be able to make out what was being said. Despite that, the word that was uttered made no sense.

(Tji abfe… Jialft sayemn omn shbo'e!)

These were clearly words. But the language being spoken, the words, was beyond the technorunner's ken. Perhaps he had heard of it before. Perhaps he did know it. Perhaps he did speak it. That made no difference. He was in a mindless state, after all, a state of a deep sleep, he couldn't bother to think. Just sleeping was enough for him to be happy, to forget about all things, yet remember all the forgotten things at the same time.

As he continued his downfall towards endlessness. More memories flashed before his jaded eyes, like pictures coated behind crystal. Soon enough, the sea was no longer endless — not from the depths, however. Walls closed in on him from nowhere, they were all covered by stained glass windows, windows that led into more and more depictions of his memories. Yet, all of them were out of reach. He did not even bother to raise a hand, to cling onto these windows, to cling onto something. He had already made his decision long ago. He was giving up. He was running away.

Slumber was overwhelming him as his eyelids began to shut.

(Abfe…)

Once again, the sound emerged. This time louder than before, as if calling out for help, or calling out to help. The sound was starting to be heavy on the technorunner's ears. It was annoying him. It was disturbing his rest.

But that was it!

Whatever that sound was. It was starting to help him, it was starting to wake him up. He was still not far off gone. But he was getting ever so closer to hitting the bottom. Now, he did not know what he wanted. Did he want to sleep? Did he want to wake up? If he slept, he would stay in the past (no he would watch it from afar). If he woke up, then the grim reality will be back (but it's the truth).

No more lies was what he wanted. So why, now, was he running away? Why was he cowering behind the lies?

Questions. Questions. I've had enough of questions.

His thoughts were coming back. Even though he was happy being mindless, it was a pleasant surprise. Perhaps being in the real was not so bad. As he sorted out his thoughts, and the train began moving again, there was one question that stood still.

What is going on?

Struggling against a heavy weight holding his eyelids shut, he finally opened his eyes. He opened his eyes to the, once again, endless sea. But he wasn't drowning this time, he wasn't falling. He was rising, he was being pulled back, being called upon to the surface. It was still not over yet. But the memories? One would ask. Happy memories. He did not want them. If it meant that he would continue drowning as nothing but a corpse, he did not want those memories. He had finally reached a conclusive decision. He wanted to wake up.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

And like that, the sea abided his request.

But instead of being pulled to the surface, and ending up in the middle of an unknown ocean. The technorunner was warped into the most unlikely place imaginable.

It was a small room, perhaps a hut, but it was far more welcoming than the old man's hut that he had barged into not too long ago. Windows were in almost every nook and cranny, shining a large bright light into the room. There was a certain atmosphere in the place, it had a dreamy feel to it as if it was straight out of a fairy tale (the lights certainly helped to give that implication), but among other things, it was alien, at least to most of it. The technology within it far surpassed any kind the technorunner has seen before. It was magical, even by the empire's standards. In spite of all that, the room was awfully normal in terms of how it was furnished. It seemed even more like a hut since there was only the kitchen and the bedroom fused together.

Before the technorunner could question his whereabouts, he spotted a child sitting on the kitchen table. The room was empty just a moment ago. How that child was suddenly there was outside his knowledge. But it didn't surprise him. He had just been drowning in an ocean filled with his memories. Surely, this wouldn't be more confusing. The child was giving him his back. He sat there, fluttering both his legs in joy under the table, not giving a notice towards the technorunner. The technorunner did not understand the child's focus on nothingness.

That was until another figure faded into existence.

This time, it was a young woman, with white hair that complimented the lights coming from outside. Her attire was outlandish. Usually, in Eldria, women wear robes, dresses, anything that was handmade. But this wasn't in Eldria, that was for certain. This woman's clothing… it was refined, not something you would see in Eldria — perhaps in the empire cities? But all the citizens there dressed formally.

The technorunner did not seem confused or dazed by the woman. In fact, he was not dazed by the entire situation. Deep down, it all felt familiar, like he had seen this scene before, no, he had lived it. But how and when? That, he didn't know.

The woman grabbed a plate from the counter and sat down with the child. They were talking, but the technorunner couldn't make out what they were saying, or rather, he couldn't hear them. As if he had been deafened. The woman's sitting position made her face both him and the child, but she, too, couldn't see him.

A mother and her child, sitting together, laughing together, and having the time of their lives. That was the first thought that ever came to the technorunner when he saw them together like that. What made him think like that? It wasn't the way they looked. It was the eyes. The woman's eyes. He looked at her bright blue eyes and felt like he was being sucked in, but he could only feel warmth in those eyes, the warmth that he longed for, the warmth that he had lost in a time he could not remember, the warmth of maternity.

(Eono khmn jiahasayeh…)

It was coming from the woman. She was the one speaking that odd language. Voices were finally flooding through the mute room. Her voice, specifically, echoed in the technorunner's ears, so he could not forget what she said. Yet still, he did not understand.

(Ketoalf Wofeketji Thmnaf!)

The words seemed to be told to the child, but the woman was no longer talking to the child. She was looking at the technorunner with intense eyes that almost frightened him. He felt the need to run as if he had made a great mistake, that he was not to be there. He stood still, he couldn't move an inch. As if he was enchanted.

Maybe that was it. He was enchanted. It would all make sense. The woman's alluring and almost magical appearance. Her calm demeanor. Her completely foreign, almost alien, language. And her gaze… Her frightening gaze that petrified him. That woman was a witch. But before he could confirm his suspicions, the woman's expression turned to that of surprise.

(Abfe!)

She was talking to him. She stood up and walked over to him. Her hands reached up to his face, but she could not touch it. Yet, the effect it had on him was already in motion. He was frightened no more. Instead of horror or anger filling his eyes, tears dropped. He was crying.

(I can't believe it…)

Finally! Words that made sense. But it was quite odd that the woman was able to speak in the common tongue. At first, when she spoke in the other language, the technorunner could not spot a single tone in her voice, as it continued echoing. However, with the words he could understand, he sensed astonishment in the woman's voice, he sensed back the warmth.

(It's still not your time. Follow Your Heart!)

She smiled and gave him a little push. With that, he was floating once again, being warped outside the boundaries of that room. As if the room was some kind of construct, an illusion. He could still see the woman despite the distance that was being drawn every millisecond. The smile was still on her face. But there was one more. She was crying as well. They were tears, not of joy, but of farewell. There was the feeling that they would never see each other again. He couldn't understand that weird and confusing mutual feeling between them, despite having never seen each other before — that was what he believed. The woman raised her hand and waved at him. It was certainly a farewell.

(Magnus…)

One word. A name. All it took was a name, and the curtain of darkness rolled down against his eyes. He was back to slumber. A slumber that was soon to be disturbed.