Time Lapse

Chapter 7 ~ Golden Colossus ~

Like mother nature reclaiming a long-abandoned building, Atlas's body underwent a similar transformation as he slept, piecing itself together with eerie, inhuman efficiency. As the morning sun filtered through the window, he awoke feeling refreshed and energized; his wounds miraculously healed overnight.

Atlas slept in for the first time, his body feeling refreshed and energized. His eyes hesitated to open, feeling the sun already well past morning and ready to blind him if he opened them without a care. Atlas figured now was the best time to see if his wounds healed; it would explain him surviving the roof caving him in.

With hesitant fingers, Atlas prodded at the spot where the stab wound had once been, feeling nothing but smooth, unblemished skin beneath his touch. Atlas held in a smirk, feeling cool about his stab wound healing overnight. Now, he slams his hands down his right leg, preparing to squeeze down on his right foot. "Ah!"

Opening his eyes, Atlas jumped and felt nothing other than his fingers squeezing down on his perfectly healthy foot, thinking about the shock of him frightening himself from entirely nothing. His face blushed at his embarrassment.

With the awkward moment behind him, Atlas pushed himself up from the hay bed. The room still bore the marks of his restless night. Straw was strewn about, a testament to his ceaseless digging for the clothes under the bed.

With no other shirt since his fight with the sandista the prior night, Atlas had no choice. How the hell do I put this on? Struggling to make the white tunic fit his much larger shape, Atlas eventually threw the tunic back to the ground. Now, trying for the skirt instead, Atlas felt a much easier time. Why would I even wear this? The red fustanella slid right over his pants and tied it as tightly as he could muster against his smaller waist.

Now picking up the tunic again, Atlas slid his head through the opening and began tucking the excess fabric of his shirt into the skirt, smoothing out any wrinkles with practiced hands. Without the fustanella, his pants would have looked oddly packed beneath the tunic, resembling a thief stuffing their pants. But with the vibrant red fabric covering him, Atlas felt a sense of cohesion and purpose settle over him.

As the tunic enveloped his arms and draped over his body, Atlas couldn't help but feel a sense of protection, like a child wrapped in a warm blanket on a cold winter's day. Tying the center ties of the tunic's chest piece, he adjusted the belt around his waist, striving to create a semblance of order amidst the chaos of his makeshift attire. "I can't imagine what I look like right now," Atlas speaking to himself, a wry smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Bracing himself for the journey ahead, the boy made his way to the door, his resolve firm and unwavering. With his clothes finally secured, he felt better prepared to face the harsh desert sun, even if it couldn't harm him. The sandals on his feet provided some relief as he traversed the occasional dunes, the soft sand yielding beneath his steps.

Before he disappeared from view, Atlas paused and shouted back to the mud hut, his voice carrying a note of gratitude and farewell. "Bye! Stay strong, and thank you!" he called out, hoping his words would reach the house.

His heart skipped a beat as he glanced back at the mud hut, a pang of sadness tugging at his chest for reasons he couldn't quite explain. No, we must enlist, he reminded himself firmly, pushing aside the fleeting sense of attachment.

For the first time in a while, Atlas felt the wind on his skin, its gentle touch stirring the fabric of his clothing and guiding him in the direction he was already headed. "Hey wind, throw sand in my face if you're a spirit. If not, then I don't know..." a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

But the wind continued to blow towards the east, as it had yesterday, carrying Atlas along its invisible currents. "If I'm crazy, fine, then so be it," he chuckled, his pride swelling at realizing his newfound invulnerability. But now I'm a crazy person who can't die.