Forget Where We Were (reupload!)

Chapter 5

A few days after that meet up with the Traveler and Paimon at Old Vanarana, something that should never happen in the history of things, happened.

For a whole afternoon, it was something that Alhaitham thought was a malfunction in his brain, his eyesight, or his physical body in general. He considered dropping by Bimarstan to get himself diagnosed as 'going insane'.

Because in every angle Alhaitham might rationalize things, there should be no way this would be ever feasible. Alhaitham sat there on his divan, looking down on his own vision. Beside it, another vision stared back at the Scribe.

It was supposed to remain blank, colorless, and dull. It was not supposed to flicker as if it was a glitching desk lamp. It kept on flickering once, lasting half a second, per four to five minutes. Alhaitham has been staring - no, observing for data collection purposes - at it for the past couple of hours. The deep green of the Dendro energy flickered consistently and steadily, a faint heartbeat after ungodly efforts of resuscitation.

This was unreal. Alhaitham took another deep breath, trying to think about his next logical move. He could invite the people whom he trusted enough to share this piece of bizarre development and let them judge amongst themselves as to why the supposedly blank vision was doing something like this after two years. Alhaitham could not arrive at a conclusion at this time.

He was a scholar who prided himself on his skills and capabilities, and he knew that he was not capable of having all the answers. This one, in particular, remained a mystery. Alhaitham let out another breath before grabbing a few papers and a quill. A great scholar knew when it was time to acquire some much-needed assistance from other minds.

A vision of someone who already passed away being awakened again had been unheard of, much less a vision unresponsive for the last two years. The vision flickered lush emerald, once more, just for less than a second. Alhaitham held his breath as obstreperous hope took root deep in his heart.

It has been a while since Alhaitham dreamed. The Scribe has not been graced by the gift of dreaming and his dreams have been few and far in between.

This time, though, the dream was vivid enough that the Scribe could feel himself standing in the middle of his house. He was in the living room, the same exact way as how Kaveh left it the last day Alhaitham ever saw him.

Alhaitham took a step forward, and everything changed.

He was no longer inside his house. Instead, he was standing in the middle of a still lake. Alhaitham looked down and saw the water glowing bright blue where he was standing on it. It remained to be water with the soles of his shoes wet but the waters were so still it almost felt frozen. That was until Alhaitham took in the rest of the place. It was a garden. Birds and other animals remained unmoving, making the Scribe feel like he has entered a painting or a picture from a Kamera.

The garden was beautiful with an altar up front. Three empty seats could be seen from up ahead. Alhaitham tried to take a step forward, but as he did, he was transported back to standing in the middle of his own living room.

Nobody could doubt that this was nothing but a dream. Alhaitham took another step, and this time, he was indeed transferred back to the still garden. Perhaps he could trick the dream in some way.

So, the Scribe started running. With each step, his surrounding changed from the garden to the living room, and then back again. He pressed on until Alhaitham finally reached the lone island in the middle of the garden.

Three empty wooden chairs faced him. One of them, the one in the middle, had flowers that half-covered the chairs. It somehow made it look regal like it was a throne. Alhaitham reached out to touch one of the flowers that resembled closely a Padisarah when a female voice spoke to him, as if she was just beside him, whispering.