Memories (Of Dreams and Demons)

Little Hero

This is the first rough draft for Little Hero - plot and action outline, needs polish and to paint the background scene.

"We have to get him there," Chi pants, "we don't have much time left."

I'm fading away. It must be the loss of blood. I rock back and forth on the makeshift stretcher as Chi and Chai carry me along. The loud rustling of a thick layer of dead leaves being scrunched up as I'm dragged over a lower layer of slosh and mud is all I can hear.

I feel so drowsy, swaying back and forth in an ocean of thoughts that slip away before I can make sense of them. The world around me shifts, rushes from day to night, dark to light. Rivers of colours like a rainbow course across my vision, painting the Realm in ever-changing hues as it passes overhead, subtly illuminated by the light that follows us. I see faces I do not recognize, cities I could never dream of.

This isn't real, a voice repeats, and another: he's delirious.

I let out a long slow breath, letting my head fall to the side. It feels so heavy, much easier to just let go. Let go. This stretcher is so warm. So comfy. I close my eyes, so relaxing, so peaceful. A hand rests gently on my shoulder, and squeezes tight, full of worry, concerned for my wellbeing. It's all I can feel now. How nice. It must be Naoko.

I'm somewhere else.

I blink.

Naoko and I sit on a rug on the floor in a warm cabin, small but comfortable, homely. A fireplace cackles along to our right, its fiery orange casting a glow over the whole interior. A bed covered in furs and pillows rests against the corner, beside it a sturdy wooden table upon which rests a half-used candle and a solitary red book. A small bookshelf sits to our left, filled to the brim with more books. Outside the window I see nothing but blackness.

And between us on the rug, in little piles of pieces and half-constructed edges, sits the puzzle Naoko so carefully carries with her every waking moment.

"Where are we?" I ask.

She looks surprised, wide-eyed looking around, yet replies without hesitation, "the Realm."

Her eyes then rest on me, and she checks her pony-tail and runs her hands down her jeans. The fireplace flames give her features a kind and warm glow, causing her eyes to sparkle like orange stars. She just smiles at me gently as I stare at her. I shift a little, getting comfortable. Hey, I can feel my legs again. This is the Realm?

"Well," Naoko hums, "what next then?"

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"You don't remember much, from when you were a child," Naoko asks, "do you?"

I shake my head. What's that got to do with anything?

'Don't worry', she says, 'a lot of people don't, that's why we can fill the void with so much adventure!'

'Wait..' I stumble, 'what do you mean?'

He's delirious, the voice repeats, and another: he looks mad.

Naoko does not answer, instead she picks up a solitary puzzle piece on the ground and holds it up. It's faded, a light grey, slightly torn. It's not a coloured piece that easily fits within the others, but it's not a painful one drenched in darkness. Naoko only pulls a face as she holds it.

"I want to see what this puzzle piece is," she says, turning it slowly between her fingers as it takes on the fireplace's warm glow.

She places her free hand on mine, "show me."