Illusion of Safety // DreamNotFound

Chapter 2

There was an air of tension between them. Night had long-since fallen, and a campfire had been set by the strange man. A strange man who, by the way, had yet to answer any questions like he'd promised. The trader was not pleased.

George cradled the orb like it was the only link to his old life, at the same time, resisting the urge to smash it against a tree. It had been glowing a soft yellow since he'd met the man, and had only died down slightly.

For some reason, no matter how close he got to the campfire, he did not warm up. Now he was cold, confused, and angry, which was not a fun combination. The man whistled as he prepared a trap to hunt food, carefree to a bittersweet extent.

"So, George," he began, startling the brunette. His voice would never not surprise him, seeing as it was so clear even with a mask. George contemplated how this stranger would know his name, but came to the conclusion quickly that he'd been listening in on his talk with Darryl.

"What," George responded, a bit snappier than he'd intended.

"Don't you want to ask me questions," the masked man pondered.

George nearly scoffed, "I figured you might be the one to explain yourself first, considering you just bent my perception of reality and all that."

"Is that what you've been pouting over for the last hour? Fine, fine," the stranger retorted. George had half a mind to shove his face in the dirt and run off alone. With how pathetic the fire felt, and how long he'd taken to make a trap, he probably had a higher survival rate like that.

"Why did you save me? How did you save me? There was fire, then there was a rock with a hand in it, then I was in prison looking at myself, then there was a nobleman who disappeared, and then the earth split in half behind us?"

The masked man fell silent as the words tumbled from George's mouth. He wanted to get everything out of him, struggling to put logic into the equation. It was like his brain was exploding, and there was a pressure on his chest.

"Take a deep breath, I can explain all of that," the man insisted. George did not calm down, but he forced his mouth shut. "First things first, my name is Clay. I knew yours, so I figured it would only be fair if you knew mine."

George nodded in acknowledgment. The masked man held out a hand and the fire dissolved. The forest around them shifted and now they were in an open field. The brunette jumped to his feet, spinning around rapidly.

"My name is Clay, and I'm an illusionist."

George whirled to face him. His blank mask unsettled him to a severe degree, and he almost wanted to throw up. What was an illusionist? He knew what an illusion was, so he could infer, but the things happening around him were not humanly possible. Unless, of course, Clay wasn't human at all.

"No way."

"Yes way," the man chuckled. George didn't understand how he could laugh at a time like that. If what he thought was true, he had to get away from Clay, back to civilization.

"I'm crazy," George concluded. He ran a hand through his hair. "That's it, I've lost my mind. That night in Louden is catching up with me, I'm imagining entire scenarios now."

"What? No," Clay stammered. "You've been perfectly sane up until this point, why would all that change today?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say I was perfectly sane. I've always had my doubts, you know? Mother did say being alone so often would cause my imagination to run wild. Shame, she'll have quite a laugh when she realizes how right she was," George rambled.