Sanctuary

Chapter 5

There are doorways, and then there are doorways. The one I chose was one of the latter.

I used to come here to escape, right after I became one of the Guardians. The nothingness between worlds used to be a soothing balm to the anxiety of my continued existence. Now, I sought refuge from the thought that if I only went backwards, reopened that door, my brother would be waiting on the other side.

I felt something that might have been heart break.

I sank to my knees in the barren hallway, my hands pressed to either side of my head. The image almost made me laugh – as if that would make what I had just seen disappear.

At least here I was alone. That was all I deserved.

I considered staying here for eternity.

A wave of uncertainty hit me. Had I abandoned Oren for a second time? Was he waiting for me on the other side of that door?

I crouched against the wall until I felt the tides of panic and confusion subside. Eventually removing my hands from my head, I straightened, rolling my shoulders to try and loosen my muscles. The hallway was still empty. The only thing breaking up the continual grey walls were occasional doors. With no sunlight, it was impossible to say how long I'd been in the in-between.

Before I could return, I needed to know. I straightened my posture and held out a hand, focusing on the image of my brother I held in my mind.

As my illusion took shape in front of me, I surveyed my handiwork grimly.

I needed to know if I was losing my mind.

The illusion was perfect. Oren was there, as I had last seen him. He was twenty two then, the same age I was when I died. After I began my duties as a Guardian, I was forbidden to associate with any of my blood. They said it would make the transition easier. His blue gray eyes smiled warmly at me. I could even make him speak, if I chose.

But it wasn't him. I knew it, deep down to my bones, as I had always known when I tried to recreate him. The familiar weight of his death, and my part in it, still pressed down on me. Disgusted, I waved my hand, and the illusion vanished.

When I had first become a Guardian, I had insisted on trying to re-make my brother. I tried over and over again. It was pointless. No matter how much time, detail, or thought I put into the mirage, I knew he wasn't real.

On those days, even madness seemed preferable to the non-life I was leading.

So. Either the illusion in Sanctuary wasn't mine, or I was going selectively insane. Neither option was great. One door lead to an enemy I wasn't sure I could defeat, and the other...

What good was I, when I couldn't tell the difference between reality and fantasy?

Forcing down the rumbling disquiet of what had happened in Sanctuary, I searched for the doorway that would take me back to my job. I had just settled my hand on a doorknob when I felt a whisper in my mind. Guardians. What are they doing here?