A Fever Dream

CHAPTER 19. All The Things That You Forget

We hid from the midday sun in a birdcage-like alcove and the air smelled like sweet fruits and wine. I knew it was a dream, when Elliot touched my hands and his palms were warm.

"Want a dance?" He asked.

The light wind ruffled his fancy silk shirt, with thick red flowers embroidered on the sleeves. His golden hair was tied with a ribbon and fell elegantly on his left shoulder. He looked very alive, vibrant. We stood like a dancing couple, but something pulled me away from him, like a magnet. For a brief moment I closed my eyes, and all worries slipped away by river waters in the royal garden.

"When will I stop dreaming of you?" I thought or said out loud.The rustling of the oak trees gave me no answer.

"Why do you ask me, it's your dream."

I looked at him for the longest time, till his eyes turned wary and slightly green. Till the sun started setting, and sounds around us started to grow muffled and dull, and the wind seemed to take away the colors, like picking up leaves.

"You know, these gardens would probably put Versailles to shame," I said, although I have only ever seen Versailles in pictures.

Elliot dropped my hand, but I caught his mid-air. He frowned.

"Versailles," he murmured. "It's the name of the place in your world?"

I nodded, counting the pulse in his wrist. Somehow, I felt it was important not to let go.

"But how do you... weren't you supposed to have forgotten the life you had before?"

"What?" I looked up. An unpleasant sensation ran in the back of my head.

"Didn't you know?" He frowned in return. "It's the basic law. Those who come here, stay forever."

The gust of wind flapped the edge of his frock coat back and force, like a sail. I blinked one, two, three, too many times, but the tears didn't come, despite the heat of them behind my eyes. I tried to force anger, rage at the boy in front of me, who didn't tell me the truth earlier, but it didn't come.

"Think about it. Do you really remember details of your life? Childhood? The street, where your house stood? The face of your lover?" I blushed. "It's only fair."

"How is this fair!?"

He rolled his eyes.

"Take for example me. I've never been to the world beyond," he motioned to nowhere in particular. "I always knew there was more. But your grandmother was the only proof there was a way to leave."

A chilly gust of wind crushed through the alcove, and I pulled on my shawl. A lonely yellow leaf landed at our feet.

Elliot kneeled and picked it up, dragging me after him by the hand. We landed in the grass.

"What a curious thing," he said, turning it in his hand, curiously. "The color is wrong."

"The color is fine. This is autumn," I said automatically.

And there it was, really. How didn't I notice before? How long have we been standing like this? The air filled with the musky sweet aroma of leaves, kicked by the rains, and far away snow. Elliot's face filled with wonder.

"Autumn," he frowned, still staring at the leaf. "But it's impossible. It means that..."

"That the summer is ending," we both looked at each other. "Come on, we need to go to the station!" I grabbed his hand, and tried to pull him up but he seemed glued to the marble floor of the alcove, with a leaf in his long pale fingers. Marvelling. Slowly, it started raining.

"Come on," I stomped my feet. "Get up. We need to go."

"I can't," he said and the thunder roared.

"Why?" I nearly cried.

"Why?" he looked up at me the same moment as lightning struck a nearby tree and highlighted his wry smile. I saw that he no longer looked warm and vibrant. Violet shadows surrounded his eyes, and his cheeks looked sunken and paperwhite. The blood, in the corner of his mouth, sipped in a thin trail of velvet, grazing his white shirt. "Because you killed me, Aster. Don't you remember?"

I felt the blood ring in my ears and the earth move.

"Don't you remember?" he kept saying and the thunder kept roaring. "This is just a dream. It's a dream. Your dream, Aster..."

The pull, tugging me away became stronger and stronger, and finally kicked me in the ribs and out of the dream.