fragileprophet | Week 2 - dreamshare catchall with Sandalphon

[These memories come together in the stream-of-consciousness style of a newborn. You know nothing, but you know that you don't know these things.

You don't know where you are, who you are, how to speak, how to move. You want to cry for no reason other than that its scary not to know, so you do, but it's a numb feeling, the water on your cheeks. The sounds around you are frightening in their unknown ambiguity. The stone is cold beneath your naked body.

You lift your hands in front of your face. Why did they put you in chains? They make your wrists hurt. There is nobody here to answer your questions, but you don't know the words to ask them. When there are people, they regard you impassively, talking in words that sound like sludge in your new ears, thick and terrible and mean.

You're lifted up by your arms and removed from your cell, your footsteps weak and clumsy. Where are they taking you? What do they want? Scared, you're so scared, and you pass cell after cell of little green-haired boys who look just the same as one another. Do you look like that, too?

For days you're made to do things without explanation, things that confuse you, but you somehow know how to do if you just mimic the actions of another one of those green-haired boys. There's something in his eyes that you don't like, and every time you do what they want, your body gets so weak that you can't lift yourself up off the ground. What is this? Why is this?

The green haired boys are gone from their cells now. You wonder where they went. You wonder when the floor got so red.]

[You're seated on the Cathedral's stage in a grand chair. Your Fon Master's staff is resting across your legs, and you hold a letter in your small hands. You read the words from the Emperor of Malkuth and you're struck by their sincerity. They're not those of a politician scrawling empty promises, but a simple man who wishes for peace. This is good. As you finish, you look with a smile at the man on his knees before you, awaiting your response.

Colonel Curtiss, I can tell that His Majesty wrote this from the bottom of his heart. I can see why his citizens love him so dearly...this is truly wonderful.

He looks at you, puzzled, and you wonder for a moment if you've said something wrong...but then he smiles, too, relieved. He tells you he is reassured by your words. You don't have time to bask in the feeling, because the man standing beside you interrupts, snapping at the Colonel to leave the letter. The Fon Master needs his rest, he says.

A piece of your heart shrivels as you remember your place, and you lapse into obedient silence as Colonel Curtiss takes his leave.

He lectures you about the importance of neutrality. You feel a spark of encouragement, and timidly try: Emperor Peony only wants peace between both Malkuth and Kimlasca. I...agree with him.

It wasn't the right thing to say. Grand Maestro Mohs turns to you, his eyes full of hatred. He isn't looking at his Fon Master. He isn't looking at a person at all. He's looking at an insect. A wretch. Something he wishes he could squash under his fist. It hurts to look at him as he tells you you are to take no action in this matter. Your purpose is to sign documents, and smile at the people...and take plenty of rests.

You know what he's telling you to do is go back to your room in the Cathedral's tower. It's an unspoken threat of what you may suffer if you dare to come out. So you go.

The next day, a pigtailed girl brings you a tray of food, here to visit you during your confinement. You know that by now, Colonel Curtiss has left, rejected despite your wishes. War will surely come. You hate this. Softly, you ask her:

Anise, am I making a mistake?

She jumps quickly to the defense of the Grand Maestro. Another piece of your heart withers as you turn away from her and stare out the window at the townspeople down below. They look like ants from up here. Suddenly, she speaks again. She tells you how scared the people are for war. She tells you it's stressful. She tells you that the only thing that keeps the people around here smiling is you, and your happy presence. Why?

It's because they have faith and respect in their Fon Master Ion.

You make a choice, right then. You know in your heart that you are not the one deserving of those feelings. You're a peon, a puppet, a figurehead of nothing.

But you love them. You love each and every one of them.

You want to pay them back for those feelings.

You run away.

It's a heart-pounding affair, running away. You've never rebelled, not once. You scale down the side of the building with Anise, and Colonel Curtiss spirits you away in a boat--you pass out when you have to use a powerful arte to escape pursuers.

But you come to and you're in a new bed, on a new vessel, and Colonel Curtiss, though he admonishes you for your recklessness and you can't help but apologize, asks you to trust him to protect you--he tells you that you're important, and not for the Score, or for being the Fon Master, but because your kind heart can save the people from a war.

Your heart is brimming. Before you know it, you're laughing. They don't understand why, and you can't tell them. You can't tell them who you really are, or why this means so much, how scared you've felt each moment that you've been on this world, so you tell them just one thing that only seems to confuse them further:

This is the most excited I've been in my whole life!

From this day forward, your actions are your own.]

Edited 2018-06-20 07:03 (UTC)

[Before you, a green-haired soldier falls to his knees, defeated in battle. He was wearing a mask, but it clatters to the ground, and even before he has time to shield his face you know...your suspicions are finally confirmed.

Because he has your face, too.

The others around you startle as they see it, too, so you decide there's no point in hiding this anymore. You sigh, stepping forward.

Just as I thought...you are also a replica of the Fon Master.

The others stare at you, faces torn in shock, so you persist. Your words feel like stones as they echo back in your ears.

I'm Fon Master Ion's seventh replica: the final one. You glance guiltily over your shoulder toward Anise. I'm sorry. It's only been about two years since I was born.

You can tell what she's thinking before she says it: the reason that she was assigned to you so suddenly, the reason the other guardians were dismissed: it's all because you were a fake. It's all been one big lie. The replica on the ground speaks, so you're able to tear your eyes back away from her and face him.

You had the closest abilities to the original unlike us trash.

Your stomach churns in violent discomfort.

Don't call yourself that.

He doesn't even meet your eyes, his teeth gritted in pain and bitterness.

That's what I am. My powers were so weak I was cast alive into the mouth of the Mt. Zaleho volcano. A replica that can't serve as a replacement is nothing more than garbage.

You try again. Desperation claws away at your ribcage.

Don't talk like that. You can come with us--you and I are the same!

You step toward him as he staggers back to his feet and extend him a hand. You hope...you hope...

And he slaps your hand away, angry, hateful. You're used to the hatred of the Grand Maestro, but this is something different. This is an intimate, deep-seeded resentment that is much more personal than a man hating you for what you are. This is someone hating you for everything that you took away from them. Everything you never wanted, and that you can't give back. The sting in your hand travels all the way up your arm.

No, we're not. I'm only alive to be used. Only the useful ones are ever kept alive...out of pity.

You don't know what to say, but you don't have time to react as, without a word, he steps backward, off the edge of the landing you stand on, into a chasm of certain death. Your whole body feels still as you watch the void where the other you once was. Your heart is pounding so badly it hurts, but you don't move. You don't know what to do, what to say. You don't know what you feel. But your eyes are burning and raw, your face hot.

Anise steps forward to examine the spot where Sync once was, then turns to look at you and her face falls.

Ion, please don't cry.

Her words confuse you.

I'm not crying, you assure.

But, those tears...

You lift a hand to your cheek, and find it comes away wet. You still don't know what to say.

I guess I was sad, you decide. This is the first time I've ever cried.

You understand now, this wrenching in your chest. You understand that the fear was never just fear. It was always heartache. Always loneliness. Always sorrow. Always everything terrible all at once.

All this time, I had it wrong.

You shouldn't have been the one they spared.]

Edited 2018-06-21 02:51 (UTC)

[You stand in your room. On your bed, a girl with long brown hair lies, asleep, in clear pain. Everyone talks about what to do--the miasma is consuming her body, they say, and nobody has been able to figure out a way to save her. At this rate, she'll surely die...and it won't be long.

Your friends mean so much to you. Thanks to them, slowly but surely, you've begun to feel like more than just the seventh replica of the fon master, a thing in the skin of a beloved boy.

You owe them everything, so you can't keep this to yourself.

I know of a way that we can save her, you say, but there isn't time to explain. Anise runs into the room, panicked, and grabs you by the hand. Saying it's an emergency, she pulls you out before the others can follow.

Before you know it, you're face-to-face with the Grand Maestro. There he is, once again, regarding you like an insect. He beckons you both to come, and you know...you know. There's no use in fighting this. It's time to read the Planetary Score.

Your friends catch up with you and demand to know what Anise is doing, but as she distracts them, Mohs grabs you by the collar and shoves you forward. Your mouth tastes like metal as you let him drag you down...down...

All the way to the Fonstone hidden deep inside the Mt. Zaleho volcano. Back to where you started, back to where the other yous were thrown, alive. It's your turn. Maybe it was always meant to be this way.

Anise and Mohs linger behind you as you press your hands to the Fonstone and read its contents. The words flow through your body and pass through your lips: war, disease, destruction, death, and ruin. The world is over. The world will fall. There is no hope left, not for any man, woman, or child--

Luke's hands pull you back and away. You can feel your body breaking. He begs you to stop, but you keep going, one final thing, one he deserves to know: he can stop it all. You fall and he catches you, cradling you in his arms, watching your face. You're so weak you can't feel an inch of your body.

This was my final reading of the Score for you, Luke. A single path among your many possible futures. I don't expect you to use it...but this is the only way I could help.

His voice breaks. He tells you that you've always helped, and that you'll always keep helping. Your smile falls. Why is he so sad? He knows what you are. Knows that there are others.

Please don't look at me like that, you beg. I have plenty of replacements.

Don't say that--it isn't true! The other replicas aren't you, they don't know me!

You don't understand.

You don't understand.

You don't...you try...you don't have time. You call Tear over and take her by the hand, absorbing the miasma from her body into yours. She tries to protest, but you don't let go.

This was always the only way...and now, you're dying. Now, you can finally pay them back for all that they've given you. All the smiles, all the warmth, everything.

The poison rips through you as your body continues to deteriorate from the inside out. Something strange is happening. There's a knot in your throat, and you feel what's left of your life dragging out into an impossible length. You know that there's so much you'll never get to experience. There's so many feelings in your heart you just don't understand, that you haven't learned, will never learn.

And it hurts, how badly it hurts, what you won't have.

Anger, you've never felt anger.

Love, you've never known love.

Life, have you ever had it, really? Have you truly known?

You want to live, you want to live, more than anything, you truly want to live.

Tear, Jade, Guy, Natalia, Mieu...Luke.

Anise.

As you fade to nothing, as Luke holds you so tightly, you know that there's only one precious moment left for you here, and if you can have nothing else that you want, you at least want to see her again. You want to speak to her again. You want to see her smile, and laugh, and you want to tell her...

You want to tell her...

You have to tell her, this is the last chance, everything you've always--

The memory stops here.]

Edited 2018-06-22 08:22 (UTC)

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