CHAPTER 5: REMEMBRANCE

A storm was brewing within Soren's mind. His skull was like a gas canister that had built more air pressure than it could hold.

The memories were all returning to him. Every last one of them—at the same time. He could feel his psyche stretching at either end of the emotional spectrum. From fragmented scenes of receiving his first gift from his grandparents, to getting beaten half dead by his father. It was as if he was inside a room filled with TV screens, all playing a different story at once.

To say that his mind had become overloaded was an understatement.

He writhed in agony for what felt like an eternity, rolling around in the cyan grass. The delicate aroma of wildflowers had invaded his nostrils once more, and yet not even a sliver of relief had washed over him.

However, none of that paled in comparison to the whispers scratching at his skull. Those faint whispers... Were they echoes of the past or the future? Or something far more mysterious?

He didn't know.

He didn't want to know.

Every time he focused on what the ravings were telling him, he could feel madness manifesting within his heart. As if his emotions themselves were dying. Whatever those whispers were trying to tell him was far too sinister for his mortal mind to grasp. He felt as if his mind was a hard drive without enough space to fit whatever corrupted files 'They' were trying to pass to him.

For every intangible word he grasped, he could feel his eyes rushing to pop out of their sockets. He felt as if his soul itself was shattering. Even though his vision had still not recovered, Soren could feel the blood rushing out of his ears and nose. A metallic tang accompanied his now recovered sense of taste.

His brain was melting, and he had no way of stopping it. The memories were all rushing back to him—even ones he did not desire.

The Shattering.... The Fracturing.... Singularity....

"Stop!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. "I don't want to hear it anymore! Stop!"

The murmurings continued to grace his ears forcefully. They were illusory in nature and yet felt real at the same time. Even with his denial, a flame inside him was kindling with the desire to listen to its secrets, even if the cost was his sanity. He tried to resist the mental warfare, but the crushing pain of his mind slowly being ripped apart was too much for him to handle. Even after slamming his head repeatedly against the damp soil, the low murmurs continued to invade his mind.

At this point, nothing was working. He began to hope for his suffering to end. Even the thought of having his head slowly being crushed by a hydraulic press sounded more desirable than this…

Just when the insanity of it all was about to consume him whole, a sudden sensation washed over him that instantly cleared the screeching whispers clawing at his mind. His eyes widened, and for a brief moment, he could see clearly again before the haziness of his vision returned.

What… Just happened? The murmurs disappeared? Why?

His body struggled to stand—every limb resisted the call to rise. Through his blurry vision, he noticed how the world had turned dark. The once crimson trees now had patches of luminescence scattered across their bark. It was hard to tell, but he figured it was some kind of glowing moss or algae sticking to the tree. Nothing could ever surprise him anymore…

Although his mind had mysteriously washed away the corrupted thoughts of murmuring voices, the memory did not cease. He could still remember their existence, and if he tried to refocus or remember what they were saying, the pain would return instantly. He decided it was best to just stop thinking about those whispers entirely, for the sake of his own sanity.

It took a few more brief moments for him to recollect himself. The ringing pain emanating from his head had ceased slightly. Soren looked around the meadow once more. He was not hallucinating—it did actually turn dark.

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What the hell? How did night come so fast… Shit.

He coughed loudly. An acidic taste covered his mouth. He immediately realized what it was: puke. The nauseating pain had caused him to empty out his stomach without him even knowing it.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself off the ground and leaned up. His vision darted cautiously across the meadow for any sign of life, both physical and metaphysical. When he realized that nothing was currently there, he shifted his attention back to his Soul Weapon.

The leather tome was sitting quietly on his left thigh. It wasn’t glowing like before, indicating that both of his skills had been deactivated. Soren sighed and slowly flipped to the first page. A seething anger was boiling within him. If it hadn’t been for that damn ritual, he would still be a regular college student back on Earth. Why did he have to mess with forces that shouldn’t have been messed with? He shook his head slightly.

I am so fucking stupid… I underestimated everything… This world isn't like Earth in the slightest… Even ghosts that consume your emotions dry exist here… The memories of that… Creature returned to him. His body shuddered in response.

I need to figure out what the hell is up with this world and fast. Who knows when another one of those bastards decides to pop up again… His thoughts froze. What if there was another invisible entity attacking him at this moment again? His mind raced to check his emotions and other senses one by one to see if he had lost any of them, but he hadn’t.

By now, he had realized that [Eyes of the Fairy] might have an adverse effect on his ability to read time. The moments he spent in that imaginary world filled with impossible shapes and configurations warped all of his senses except for the truth he was seeking. That ability allowed him to tunnel his vision to the absolute extreme, at the expense of everything but what he wanted to see.

I should only use that ability when absolutely necessary. I need to keep my psyche in check as well in case I get my emotions or senses consumed without me noticing…

He decided to shake away all of those thoughts and focus his attention back on his Soul Weapon. The same status sheet appeared before him, though, he did need to squint in order to see in the dark this time. All of the information appeared the same, except for that new section he spotted during his altercation with the ‘Ghost’.

Event Log

New Entry Recorded: [Blue Silver Grass]

New Entry Recorded: [Memory Void Spirit] (Malevolent Hex)

New Message Received: [Title: Mr. Traveler] (Author: Unknown)

His eyes widened. What the… There was a new section he hadn’t seen before. He immediately realized what it was. The information he chronicled about the entity had been added to the event log. But what truly made him scratch the back of his neck was the last logged message.

A message from someone? He looked around the meadow suspiciously and gulped a mouthful of saliva. Where exactly am I supposed to find this message?

Soren got the answer he wanted immediately after asking for it. HIs Soul Weapon recognized his thoughts and slowly began to glow, blanketed in a sheet of golden light. The pages turned ethereal and an invisible wind blew them away. Hundreds of chapters were flipped through instantly until it arrived at a certain page. Soren squinted his eyes as he slowly read the contents of the ‘Message’.

To: Soren Andersen

From: Unknown

Date: 15th of Vyak, 1367.

“The whispers of history cling to the shadows, yet seek the light of remembrance.”

Soren furrowed his brows. The whispers of history? What the hell is he talking about? His eyes slowly went down the page to read more.

“Greetings, Soren Andersen… Or should I call you, Mr. Traveler now? I do think it has a good ring to it. Though, that might be due to me being biased; I am the one who bestowed that title upon you, afterall. :)”

Soren immediately stopped reading and backed his head away from the page in shock. His eyes darted across the meadow once more. Suddenly, he noticed his Soul Weapon glowing again. His eyes hesitantly shifted back to the page where he observed new lettering in a dark black ink manifesting itself right before his very eyes.

“There is no need to fear my presence. We are worlds apart, after all…”