LACRIMA

CHAPTER 10

As he stretched both his arms and let out a yawn, Gideon tried to open his eyes but quickly closed them. The day seemed to start with an enthusiastic bright light today.

Flinching, Gideon opened his one eye to a bare slit and tried to examine his surroundings but it was too bright. His room was usually not this radiant. Even when the door was open, the spaced wood that separated his room from the small dining room would salvage him from the sunlight.

Just as he was about to bring an arm to his eyes he heard a voice say
"Good morning to you too."
The voice was familiar even though the last time he heard it was as a whisper.
"I apologize for the light" the voice said and he felt light that was torturing him get dimmer. As he relaxed his face and opened his eyes, he saw them. Feathers that looked as sharp as swords stacked upon each other. The wings looked as magnificent as ever as the light from behind them formed a halo.

"

Is this going to be a routine now? You snatching me from reality whenever you see fit?" He commented as he looked around for the first time. He was in the middle of what can only be described as an abyss. Except for the white light beaming from behind the wings, the whole place was a blur of slightly recognizable images.

"Well, you've been exceptionally resistant. I tried voices, but you kept ignoring me, so I have to communicate with you somehow" the voice echoed back and suddenly the blur of familiar figures moved in a circular motion.

Waves of unsorted image were twirling all around the center, which seemed to be where Gideon and the wings were standing.

As Gideon tried to look closer into these images, he started to get recalls, like he knew them, like they were a part of him, his identity, his life.

"What is this? What is this illusion?  What-" he stopped talking when his eyes met a familiar figure through the images. The place slowly set into place and the wings were gone. He was standing near the edge of a river, across which, was a forest edge.

His tense, tight fisted hands loosened, his crunched angry face relaxed and now they were more sad than ever. He could feel the tears threatening to break loose.

It's visible he was caught off guard. Who wouldn't be at the sight of their long lost father?

Rolfe Arvel stood at the edge of the forest, gray hair tied in a braid lying on his back. A familiar look of focus on his face as he repeated dealing devastating blows to the tree he was cutting down.

It's been so long since he has seen that look. Slight frown, jaw clenched and eyes aimed straight, usually on the prey unfortunate enough to come across them in their hunting sessions.

"Father." a low whisper that was more like a whimper came out of him.
The wings appeared floating beside him now. Jet black feathers moving up and down.

"Where is this?"
No response.
"Where is he?" He asked louder. "Where is my father?" Desperation was starting to melt into his voice.

Nothing

"Tell me!" He roared at those wings and tried to fight and grab them but he felt the ground give out from under him and he was suddenly falling into a hole. His arms clawed for something to hold onto but he couldn't find anything and soon he felt his consciousness slip away, slowly losing control of his body. His eyelids felt heavier than boulders and he gave in. But just before Darkness swallowed him, he heard the wings again.

"Go to these Woods, embark on your journey, chase your purpose." The voice was silky and persuasive. Elegant. But as abruptly as it started speaking, it had stopped.
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