Iridian

03. PATHS

.memory (fragment #2)

::Who are you?:: I asked.

The green eyes at the back of my mind glittered. This conversation was not spoken, but thought. It felt strange, yet seemed the right thing to do. He had brought me here, to this warm dark place, devoid of all pain and worries.

::I'm your guide. Look, and See—::

I looked to where his mental voice pointed, and there unfolded a series of images, memories—not mine, but his. Through him I remembered the sensation of leaping fantastic distances, running impossible speeds, of scaling walls like they were ladders... memories of levitating objects, spinning and twirling them in the air with invisible hands, speaking to others not with words but with thoughts... and memories of an endless age, of decades passing by while my (his?) face remained unchanged.

There were others like us (him? I was one with him in that moment, a single entity) and we have existed for millennia, hiding our identity. Our purpose was a simple one—survival, in secrecy. We were not many, but for as long as there was at least one of us on this world, we existed. We were not immortal but we were close to it, compared to the natural human lifespan. We guarded and watched for others who could become like us, others who had the potential. Like you (me?).

The images and thoughts continued, and at the end, I returned to that warm dark place of stillness. I could hear my faint heartbeat, my breathing, and I finally understood why my body was failing.

I was changing, altering—the Alteration.

There were once-dormant genes—junk genes they are sometimes referred to—in my body that were triggering the changes, forcing my normal human physique to reform itself to enable a bond to another place, plane? Power? I didn't fully understand that part. All I knew was that the change was an aggressive one. I was close to death. And without aid, I was almost certain to die.

Therein lay the crossroad. Complete the alteration and I would never be the same again. I would be human still, but also a little more than that. I would have incredible abilities and virtual agelessness, and become part of a unique fellowship. But to gain this, I must give up all that I had ever had. Everything. My previous life had to be relinquished and to all those who once knew me, I must be for all purposes, dead. There would be no turning back, for the alteration could not be undone.

Refuse the alteration, I would return to my normal life. My recovery would be almost miraculous and I would forget that I had ever met the man with the strange green eyes. I would never know what might have been, and worse, I would never remember that there had once been a chance to be something else, to become more than what I was.

::It's a difficult choice, and I'm sorry to hurry you,:: his voice said sympathetically, from a very long distance away. I could no longer open my eyes and my heart was slowing but I could now begin to sense the mad energies that surrounded me, seeking to reshape and mold me. There was pain there. I was not yet feeling the full impact, because he was holding it back somehow, shielding me for the moment so I could think. There were no nurses or doctors rushing to save me because the monitors had been unhooked.

::Choose Arden. You're running out of time—:: his voice was like a whisper now. I was floating away, further from his reach.

What do I want? I asked myself. Like in all those descriptions of death, my life flashed before me. The faces of my family were at the fore. I had led an unremarkable life, always feeling out of step, an emptiness echoing inside me, haunted by a lack of ability to find my niche in society. It wasn't because I couldn't make friends or lacked social skills—it just—it just didn't feel right, as if I were missing some fundamental piece in my make-up. But when he led me through his mind, experiencing his experiences, something clicked into place. I had found the piece I was missing.

But the price to be paid—oh, could I pay it?

Could I walk away from Julian and Juno, and my mother who had been through far too much? I felt a heart-wrenching pain in my chest, as if I were being torn into two, and suddenly my mother's face appeared before me, the day before she left for her trip.

"Something is wrong with you—in here—" she had pointed to her chest. "I'm worried about you. Life's too short. Don't become like me, wasting it over things I can't fix. You need to live, Arden."

Those had been her words. I'd initially laughed off her comment, but later on I realized how perceptive she had been. I was becoming a shell of myself, and that was the reason for our argument regarding me moving out. She had been afraid that I would isolate myself when I already seemed so empty. She was worried about me and she was right. There was something wrong with me—I was empty. Disconnected. And now I was being offered the chance to gain the piece that would fill that emptiness.

I'm sorry mom, I thought sadly. I have to take this path.

::You're sure?:: the man with green eyes asked. He had been following my train of thought.

"Yes," I quivered. "I accept the alteration."

And then the pain began.  

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.present (alteration)

"Arden?" Atreus said, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. Her head was thrown back on the cushion and her face was paler than usual, all blood drained from it. She jumped at his touch, her amber eyes snapping open. Her expression was bewildered for a moment until she recalled where she was.

"I was remembering—the alteration," she explained.

"Ah," he sank onto the stool by her side. "That's not a pleasant memory. "

"No, it's not. Just pain and darkness. I must've passed out."

"No one stays lucid through the change. It's too intense."

"He made it a little easier for me you know," she reflected. "I think he drew some of the pain into him, like a buffer. I sensed it."

Atreus knew to whom she was referring, though she had yet to name the man. He wondered if she would eventually remember him. She must. It was vital.

"There was a lot of volatile energy around you," he commented carefully. He did not add, had it not been that man aiding her, she likely would not have survived the alteration. But Atreus would not add to anything that would bias her memories. He was in fact, afraid to say anything that might colour the course of her recollections. There was much for her to remember and she needed to feel those memories with the correct emotions.

"It's late Arden," he said, glancing out at the darkened city skyline. "Would you like something to eat?"

She shook her head. She had eaten earlier and had not felt the urge to refill. Too much food made her nauseous. Perhaps it was to do with the injury to her head.

"Very well. I'll leave you for the evening then. Let me know if anything else comes back to you?" Atreus stood, brushing out a wrinkle in his shirt.

"Good night Atreus."

He nodded. "Good night Arden." And exited the room.

She watched him leave as he quietly shut the door behind him. Ever since she had woken up with that pounding in her head, all she had seen was Atreus. She knew there were others in the house, she had heard them, but it seemed that for now, it was just him and her. He had not forbidden her to leave the suite but she felt no desire to do so—not when she wasn't sure who she was or where she was. She desperately needed to remember it all. Something important tugged at the back of her mind but until she understood who she was, it would not reveal itself.

Sighing, she got off the sofa to close the balcony door. It was night and the memories had drawn all her energy to almost zero. She yawned as she ambled over into the bedroom and collapsed on the soft, fluffy bed. The crisp cotton sheets were fresh, just changed earlier in the day. The scent tickled her nose as she closed her eyes.

The smell of fresh cotton sheets...