Believe in Me

Tunnels

Its six in the morning on a completely sleepless night but I got motivation to write so… here you go. Thank you very much for reading and have a good… morning. I’m so used to saying night.  

Cherish your precious moments deeply, but be prepared to let them go… the world has never been so kind as to let you keep them for long.

It was that voice again. The voice that had once constantly spoke to him, the voice that had quieted down in recent events… Jack hadn’t even noticed that it stopped speaking to him until, with a start, it was here, right here in his dreams. A white shadow surrounded by bright pastel lights, blues and purples, pinks and yellows, a beautiful sight no doubt but no matter how many steps he took, he never got any closer to that figure. “Who are you?” He called out, realizing that his mouth never opened yet his voice still ricocheted throughout whatever area he was suddenly in. The empty person that had always spoken to him, the one that never had a voice of its own, it was right here, a shadow that glowed too brightly to make out even a broad shape, but it was the same voice, he knew it. It spoke in puzzling words, even more confusing than it always had. ‘Cherish your precious moments...’ Had the voice returned only to tell him this? But as far as Jack could tell he already did that. He was just playing around with his returned partner that night, laughing with the group of both guardians and new friends that had joined along the way through the second fight against Pitch. With disasters practically following them, it was hard not to be grateful for events like that. So why would the voice be telling him this, its tone, which suddenly stood out in his mind as if it had been there all alone, sounded more like it was warning him. Once again, he heard his own voice cast out the question ‘Who are you…?’ just softer, as he wasn’t much expecting an answer in return. A few seconds passed, the soft noise of a breeze keeping the silence at bay despite Jack not being able to feel any wind at all. Then his question was answered, but not quite in the way he had intended for it to be. “Patient.” One word and that was all. Patient… but part of his building curiosity was answered. The voice, which had never seemed to have any real noise or gender, suddenly sounded like that of a female. Well… sort of. If he had to put the tone to anything it would be to a fairy. The voice wasn’t childlike, but was higher pitch, soft and gentle like the words floated on air, like they had been breathed out and enhanced to be loud enough to hear. Was she named Patient? Or was she telling him to be patient? As questions flew through his mind his steps began once more, he started running towards the light, the glowing white shadow, she seemed wise and yet she barely told him anything and didn’t clarify the things that she did let him hear. “Be patient,” he heard again, but that didn’t tell him who she was, how she was in his mind. This was no average dream, for Jack was fully aware that he was dreaming, but yet he felt so confused, so unanswered… The figure then seemed to spin, glittering in the brightness of whatever dimension they were in… and his eyes flickered open.

The dark, craggy roof of the cave wasn’t the best sight to wake up to compared to the strange, mystical land of light he had just been in seconds before, but Jack pushed that aside. He turned his head, seeing the light just barely stream through the gap of an entrance, the sweet whistles of birds chirping in the woods just barely reaching his ears. “Good morning, Jack,” he heard, the snow spirit sitting up on his mat and looking for the source. He could still see Ilia curled up on the mat nearby his own, Grey’s cape lying over her and her arms curled around part of the shredded fabric, hugging it through whatever dream she was experiencing. The reaper wasn’t at her side anymore though, and Jack allowed his eyes to wander the cave, adjust to the parts of it that weren’t illuminated by the small entryway, until the ice blue irises focused on the speaker. Tooth was hovering over the circle of rocks they had made, fresh firewood prepared in the center, her decorative eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Grey was sitting not too far away, looking somewhat unusual without his cape. Jack could see the rough stitches in the tear Pitch had made on the shoulder of Death’s black, almost leathery shirt. He vaguely remembered Tooth attempting to fix all of the shreds in Grey’s uniform before he woke up, this being months ago to the very start of their journey… It felt like it had been such a short time away, but yet he felt like he knew the immortal spirit for much longer. The wings had appeared to have receded in the reaper’s sleep, and his eyes had faded down to the naturally eerie blood-red color once more, thankfully.