Icy Inferno (Troyler AU)

⋙ Chapter Thirty-Three

Looking around I see memories
What it was, oh, what it was
There in the light you said something
But I can't remember what
Evergreen ~ Ben Howard

Troye

Meaningless thoughts. Nutella. Flying. Barcode. Stamps. Fences. Empty thoughts.

And my eyes were open. Wide open. Taking in the abyss of reality. Skies without life. The vaults of heaven open to the fiendish-

I was alive.

I gasped. No air. No air. How do I-

Breathe. Just breathe. It was difficult to remember. Air in. Air out.

Soon my breath was steady. Soon I was ready to think.

Where the fuck was I?

First things first - I was outside. Or there was no roof. No, outside. I was on the cold hard ground, where there was still no grass. It remained dead in winter's tight grip. The trees were no different. They were bare, shaking when wind passed by. Everything around me was bleak. This wasn't home.

A bird cawed overhead, scavenging for food. It glided through the quiet airspace, unperturbed by my stare. But then it changed course. It swooped down. Dived into the ground. An explosion of water. A splash. Water must be close. There was a river - a foot away from my head. Water flowed haphazardly over smashed up rocks. Fishes swam against the current just to be pulled back to conform with the river. One unfortunate one was caught in the claws of the bird. It lay still as the bird flew back to whence it came.

I certainly hadn't fallen asleep there. But how had I gotten there?

Tendrils of a memory. A whispered voice; golden - like the strains that paint sunsets. Words. Words to bring hope. Words to save me. Words that I couldn't remember, from a face that I'd long forgotten.

Had I forgotten a face? How could I have done? I remembered most things. Pens, schedules, elemental segregation. Usual. Normal. I knew most faces. It was all in my memory.

Memory isn't solid state. Any memory could be corrupted. Even the most stable. Any memory could be broken. So had mine been shattered into thousands of unfathomable pieces that no longer pieced together? Had a face been blotted out to be nothing more than an impression of somebody that used to know?

A coughing fit overtook me. It stopped. I breathed. A bitter taste clung to the back of my throat. A pill. Not a happy one. A travel one? Yes, it had that sour powdered feel. How far had I travelled? And why was alone? I hated travelling alone. I always tried to travel with someone else. Always. Ever since I'd been knocked off my bike and left in unconsciousness for a week I'd hated going out alone.

I'd been in hospital again since then, hadn't I? I couldn't remember why I'd been there. Just the beeps of a heart monitor. But I'd been wounded. Seriously wounded. I had known something and I'd been hurt because of it. Something about a boy.

Connor. Even the name tasted sour. He wasn't on our side. He was against us. And I'd figured him out, just like a detective would. He'd been searching for someone. Someone at school. But it was a blurry face, without a name. And that stressed me out.

A sudden bolt shot through my head. A single term: destruction. Not the hostile kind. But what other kind of destruction existed?

I traced my fingers lazily over the water. Wanting to feel some sense of ease. Figure-eights, stars, four-leafed clovers-

Without warning the water shot up, over my hand. It chilled me to the bone - to the soul. I backed up, recognising what was happening from my previous bouts of boredom. The water was a cylindrical shape, now tinted in silver. But then it spread out. Then sections sank down. It was being moulded - into shapes that had me even more befuddled.