Shattered Reality

"Gyaah—" I gasped, awakening to the quiet crackling of fire and the feeling of rough hands holding onto my cheeks. "I-I—"

Opening my eyes, I glanced up at the sleeping form of Aesandoral above me. With my head resting in her lap, it was easy to see her slack expression hanging down. She appeared fast asleep, which I immediately assumed to be a good thing considering the bags that hung heavy under her eyes. I stared at the blood and dirt stains that painted her weary face before noticing the notch that had been taken from her elven ear.

What was that dream? I thought to myself as I looked at her, my anxiety temporarily quelled just at the sight of her face. Was it all a dream?

Three realities bounced around my head, some pushing harder at the mental dam than others. I could remember the first memory clearly. That awful moment that had happened to me over a decade ago. An event that had consumed my life, Tahvin’s life, and the closest moment that I—he—ever came to cutting his life short. But then, Oleria appeared.

Suddenly, my mind throbbed as I struggled to process the memory. Pain pulsed through my consciousness with every beat of my racing heart. The dam swelled more than it ever had before. More than it did with Madi. It threatened to burst forth and drown me. So, quickly, I pushed away from the thoughts, from moments I dreaded to think about. Fleeing from that time in my life and the pain it had caused me. I didn't want to be reminded of the torment Madi had wrought, and I feared what lay beyond Oleria's door.

I immediately tried to calm myself by thinking of the other dream, yet as soon as I drew it to the forefront of my mind, it became clouded. Foggy and impossible to call forth to clarity. The memory was hidden, not behind a dam, but beyond something else. Even though I remembered it, the images and voices clearly taking up space in my mind, they were blurred and muffled. This meant that I could only remember glimpses, with no real recollection of when in my past it had happened.

Who was the person there with me? I asked myself, forcing myself to piece together the puzzle of this dream. Was that truly Alyx? Was that—no, it couldn’t be…

Shaking the thought from my head, not daring to ask any more questions of it, I reached a hand up. This was my world, the third reality in my mind, and I needed to focus on it. With aching muscles, I extended my grip towards Aesandoral's face. Gently caressing her cheek, the elf whimpered weakly before slowly opening her eyes. Our gazes met as I softly cleared my dry throat enough to speak.

"Hey," I tried to whisper, my words struggling to escape my lips. "Aes."

"Iz?" Aesandoral's voice trembled as tears began to magnify her emerald gaze. "Iz! You're awake!"

“Iz!” A pair of muffled voices screamed as I listened to the sounds of distant steps approaching me.

In an instant, my back was being pressed forcefully down into the stone bed I rested upon. The remainder of the triop had joined their companion atop me, wrapping their arms tightly wherever they could grasp.

“Hey,” I coughed up weakly, their combined weights crushing me. “C-can’t breathe.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time in recent days,” Rionriv responded, lifting herself from me as the others followed her lead. “We thought we had lost you a few times.”

“Lost…me?”

“Iz,” Aesandoral spoke softly from above, her hands caressing my cheek as her joyful eyes stared tenderly into mine. “You’ve been unconscious for almost a week.”

My heart began to race even faster as I looked to my three companions. Just as the archer's face was, everyone's expressions were worn and exhausted, covered in mud, blood, and soot. The clothes that had been fresh the last time I had seen them now appeared torn, with patches missing from bites and small holes from projectiles. More than that, their wounds looked hastily healed, resulting in a badly battered appearance.

“A week?” I tried to sit myself up, but my body barely responded. “What happened?”

Struggling, Rionriv and Sharzin took notice and helped me into a position near the fire pit where the hag's cauldron of food bubbled. As I got comfortable, I watched as the sisters quickly cozied up close to each other near the blaze in the moments before Sharzin sat near me. They had all positioned themselves on the side of my body where I could still hear clearly. This caused me to reach a hand up to the side I remembered being bitten. Rubbing at the hastily healed-over flesh, I realized that I now lacked an ear.

As I felt the flesh nub that was the side of my face, Sharzin reached up to the cauldron, scooping out a bowl of one of her concoctions before handing it to me. As she did this, I glanced over at the others, who refused to take their eyes off me. It felt as if they were waiting for something. As though they had been waiting for a long time, and now that the moment had come, they were expecting something special. A look that wouldn't leave their faces as they eagerly watched me eat.

The delicious food pushed past my lips and slid down my throat, warming my chest. With a pleased huff, I shovelled another spoonful into my mouth, enjoying the meal as they finally began to talk. Beginning with the last thing I remembered, the triop went on to explain the ending of the battle to me. How, even after the abomination was destroyed, its poison continued to course through my veins, making it impossible to heal me with magic potions. There was a moment of pause before they detailed to me how they had fled from the garrison entrance, pursued by a pale fighting force that was neither Komant nor Sturann as I had described them.

Aesandoral had apparently held them off long enough for Rionriv and Sharzin to get me to the small grotto we had marked as a fallback location. I dropped my gaze, suddenly embarrassed by the trouble I had caused. Without me to help, Aesandoral had been forced to take back her role of shield. It was only because they had planned accordingly and worked as a team that they managed to escape without anyone being terribly wounded, or worse. The fact alone that they had managed to escape a Fliant Komant without being struck down by its radiant blade was enough to celebrate. But I couldn't find it in me to do that. Not yet.

“Aes…” I muttered, looking her battered body over and the burn marks from the Fliant blaster. “I’m sorry I was…I promised you I’d protect—"

“It’s okay.” She replied quickly, a relieved smile appearing on her face. “I’m just glad I could protect you for a change.”

“And it gave us a chance to learn to use this!” Rionriv spoke up, pulling an object from her bag.

She smiled, her feline tail vibrating excitedly behind her as she directed my attention towards the trauma kit I had forced on them a few months back. The fabric appeared burnt from blaster fire and covered in week-old blood. I could easily make out bloodied handprints over the clothy exterior where they had ripped open the bag, and even spotted the torn packaging of blood coagulants through the holes.

“I hate to say it, but you were right. It was a good thing we knew how to use this stuff. Without it, you would have been dead. Like real dead. Sharzin gave you her blood!”

“My little universal donor,” I smirked, placing a hand to Sharzin’s head and giving it a tussle. “Thanks for saving me. Really, I-I—”

My dream came back to me. How willing I—Tahvin—had been to throw his life away. With a shudder, I looked down and away from everyone. Suddenly, I was mortified that I had ever wanted to die. The thought of throwing my life away and never getting the chance to meet the triop ached my heart worse than the pain I felt that night.

"I—you're all too good to me. I can't believe how worthless—ack!"

Sharzin hissed, jabbing me in the side.

“Hey! Shut up, dummy," Sharzin growled as she shook my shoulder. "We were only picking up the slack you left us with. We need you. And now that you’re back, it’s time to assault.”

“Fair,” I replied with a weak smile, rubbing at my bruised ribs. “You mentioned regular patrols and boobytraps. When's the next one supposed to be coming?”

Aesandoral leaned in to answer, taking another scoop of the stew and filling my bowl.

“They should be finishing their patrol in another hour,” She explained, finishing her pour before sitting back down alongside Rionriv and resting an exhausted head on her shoulder. "Then twelve hours after that."

“They're pretty clockwork,” Rionriv continued, looking at the space. “And they always seem to have more of those pale figures with them."

"We've killed about two dozen with cave-ins," Aesandoral spoke up again. "But we've about blown every cave we could within their patrol range."

"We were actually about a day away from evacuating you back to Goodshore and calling on those reinforcements.”

“That would have been the right call,” I replied weakly, reaching over and touching Rionriv’s leg softly. “Thank you.”

I adjusted my gaze to focus on the hurt Aesandoral and Sharzin before continuing. “Thank all of you for taking care of me. I’m sorry for being such a—"

The feeling of hopelessness from my dream stung once more. Even though the thought had already faded, it still hung heavy on my heart, making me want to apologize once again. And then, for a brief flash, I wondered if dying would have been a better alternative. I wondered if the triop and, by extension, this whole world, would have been better off if I had ceased to exist in it.

No. I fought back against the morose thought. No, I can’t think that way. Remember, confidence. They sacrificed for you. You must for them too.

Giving my head a shake, I revealed a weak smile and tear-filled eyes.

“I truly can’t begin to thank you all enough.” I finished, swallowing my emotions with a grunt before reaching over to my two wounded friends. “Here, let me see if my healing magic can fix up those scars.”

Moving slowly, my own body still aching after days of rest and potions expended, I cautiously removed the bandages from my companions to reveal scorched wounds that had been previously concealed. When asked, they explained more in depth about the weapons the Fliant soldiers had been using. Strange crossbows harnessing a sinister purple light that cut and pierced, cauterizing with every attack. And, while their aim wasn’t the best, the times when they did hit resulted in unimaginable torment.

"Yeah, those are a weapon very similar to one you already have in your arsenal," I responded, channelling my magic into my hands as I moved on from Aesandoral to heal Sharzin. "Specifically, you, Ri."

"Me?" She responded with a tilt of her head. "What magic do I have that does that?"

"Not magic, but your prize from the dragon horde. The arcane gun."

"The—oh?" The sorceress replied quickly, confused for a moment before lighting up with acknowledgement. "Oh! Right! I forgot about that."

Reaching into her bag, Rionriv withdrew the magical submachine gun. Examining it, she fiddled with the safety as I had taught her to do and pointed the weapon towards a distant wall. Closing one eye, she aimed down the weapon's sight and squeezed the trigger. A trio of bright blue bolts, fueled by Rionriv's unique flavour of magic, burst forth. The beams struck the stone, scorching the rock with a poorly aimed spread.

"Wow, okay," Rionriv remarked. "Now I get why they were missing us when we ran."

"No, you're just as bad a shot as the space nozis," I remarked, suddenly being zapped by a faint shock from the tiger girl. "Oww, sorry, it's the truth though."

Finishing up my healing, the rogue looked at her scratched-up hands and arms that had been cleared of scabs and scars before turning towards me. With a smile, she reached over, taking me into her grasp as she squeezed tightly against my waist.

“Thanks, Iz.” She inhaled and exhaled, nuzzling her head into my gut. “I’m glad you’re not dead. But what about you? What about your ear?”

I placed a hand atop her cloaked head and gently rubbed. As I did, Aesandoral stood from her sister and approached my side, plopping against me as she rested her head on my shoulder.

“We’re all glad you’re not dead.” She spoke softly as, with a heavy sigh, her body relaxed into mine. “And yeah, you should try healing yourself too.”

“Yeah…” I replied, thinking once more about the knife I had held to my chest before shaking the thought."I don't think my healing capabilities can restore missing parts."

The memory faded as I said this, replaced by a more vivid remembrance of the second dream and an instinctive grasp at my leg. I suddenly remembered the pain I had felt as I rested on the razor's edge of life and death. The dream of Tahvin clinging to life. Of someone trying to rescue him. Was I dreaming of this while my friends were trying to keep me alive, or was there something else going on?

With a shiver, I pushed the thought away. I couldn’t get rid of the feeling that I wasn’t free of those nightmares, but I also knew that I couldn't focus on them now.

“Glad to be alive too.” I eventually added to the statement as I placed a hand to my chest and pumped a healing spell into my body.

After a few moments of watching the others cuddled up to me, Rionriv approached and placed her head on my other shoulder. She released a deep breath as she rested against me.

“You nearly die so much.” She gently protested as she reached down, rubbing a hand on Sharzin's exposed cheek. “You can’t keep scaring us like that. You didn't need to move at the end. We had it—I had it. So, after we complete this mission, we’re going to sit down and have a long talk about your reckless death wish obsession, Ishara.”

Again, my mind flashed to Tahvin. To the knife. My heart began to race.

Have I always been like this? Regardless of which life I'm in, am I always searching for death? Who am I? Am I Tahvin, or Ishara? Which life is real? Is this a dream? Or the other world?

For the first time since arriving, I felt stuck between realities, unsure of who I really was. But at least, for right now, I was here, in this place, alive.

“Okay.” I nodded, my body feeling healed, albeit still missing my left ear. “We’ll have a nice long chat. I promise.”

Pausing to think of how much time had been wasted with me unconscious, I glanced over to Rionriv.

“But first, just to check. That Moon Draught your mom gave you…have you taken it recently? If we’ve been down here for so long, it must be nearing that time of the month—”

“Gah!” Rionriv hissed, her ears folding back as she raised her hand and punched my arm. “Don’t phrase it like that, Iz!”

“Sorry, I just wanted to know if you were going to bite me in my sleep while we’re trapped in this stone bubble.”

“I’m fine, thank you very much.” She pouted, now pulling away from me. “I’ve taken the draught, and from what Mama Blair said, it should be good for two weeks. So don’t worry.”

“Oh, I wasn’t worried. In fact, I was hoping you would, so I could grow a pair of those cute cat ears to replace my missing one.”

I gently reached over and rubbed at her tiger ears with a soft touch.

“Gah, Izzz!” She blushed, giving me another punch before standing and marching away. “Creep. Like I’d want you to look part-tiger.”

She choked on her words for a moment before the colour in her cheeks became even more present. Turning away quickly, she moved in the opposite direction of our cuddle puddle, placing the cauldron between us.

“I-I’ll get you some food. You need to eat if you’re going to be useful.”

"I won't complain." I sighted pleasantly. "I'm famished."

So I sat there, with Aesandoral on my shoulder and Sharzin’s head in my lap as Rionriv prepared a bowl of the night’s meal. And even as the memories and dreams battled for control over my conscious thought, another held the foreground with all its might.

This is nice. I’m lucky to be here. With them. Alive.