Memoriae (The Arcana Game)

II- Awake

When I regained consciousness again, it felt different. I was greeted by the darkness again and I still felt strangely calm, but it felt real. No longer a nightmare. I knew that I was no longer trapped.

An aroma of herbs and spices triggered a sense of familiarity. The sounds of people walking past outside and the soft fabric underneath me adding to that feeling. I felt like I knew where I was, but at the same time I didn't.

Even though I tried, my eyes refused to open. It seemed they wanted me to stay in the dark a little while longer. Like before, I had no idea how long I had laid there, lost, with only my thoughts to keep me company. Questions still raced through my mind. What happened before? Did it even happen? And why couldn't I remember anything? I tried to suppress the panic rising within me. I would have to trust I'd get my answers soon enough.

At least I had my emotions back now.

Once again, a higher power seemed to have heard my thoughts. The weight that kept my eyes closed suddenly lifted. Slowly I opened my eyes, cringing at the brightness. After being kept in the dark for so long, it was as if I was looking directly into the sun. Again, everything was blurry. I blinked a few times and, thankfully, it became clear.

I slowly turned my head to observe my surroundings. The room I was in was circular, each brick that formed the wall a different shade of brown. Just behind me was a window, tall and thin. Through it I could see what I thought was sunrise. It coated the room with an orange glow.

The floor was wood and on top laid a purple rug. Gold thread entwined from its centre to the edge in a peculiar pattern. Its edges were frayed, suggesting it was old.

A wooden chest of draws rested against the wall. Not all the draws had been pushed back in and clothes were spilling out. There were also two bookshelves with some beaten up books. I could just make out a staircase with lead down to who-knows-where. There wasn't a door to separate the room from whatever was down there, probably granting littler privacy to whoever lived here.

The large bed I was lying on took up most of the room. Several pillows had been stuffed underneath my head and torso. They were a mismatch of bright colours and pattens. A few blankets were draped over me which, again, were a complete clash of colours. Just like the rug, some of the edges were frayed. But they were warm and soft so who was I to judge.

As I looked towards the end of the bed, I was taken aback by the figure there. On a wooden chair, he was leaning forwards onto the bed. His arms were folded with his head resting on top. It couldn't have been very comfortable. The stranger had white fluffy hair which couldn't decide which way it want to go. His golden skin glowed in the sunlight. He wore a white shirt, creased from his sleeping position. The sleeves were rolled up past his elbows.

Who on Earth was he?

I tried to sit up carefully hoping not to wake them. With a lot of effort, I managed to rest on my forearms. The world started to spin, and I had to close my eyes, taking deep breaths until it stopped.

When I opened my eyes, I could see the stranger stir. He lifted his head and his purple eyes locked with mine. He blinked slowly, processing what he was seeing.

"You're awake?" he whispered in disbelief. "You're awake!" he repeated, louder. Tears started to cascade down his face, but he was smiling. "I can't believe it; I can't believe it worked!".

Without warning he brought his hand towards my face, causing me to flinch. I leaned back into the pile of pillows. My heart felt as if it was in my throat. Why was he acting like we were familiar? The smile that had adorned his face dropped as it was replaced with confusion.

"What's wrong?" he asked, worry worming its way into his voice. His eyes studied my face as I continued to shrink away from them. Minutes passed in silence. His shoulders slumped and his hand dropped to his side. Almost reluctantly he asked a question. "Do you know who I am?".

I shook my head. I had no idea. A moment passed as he looked at me in shock, studying my face again for some sort of sign.

Then they fell apart.

His head fell in his hands and his body shook as he let out quiet sobs. He whispered something repeatedly, but I couldn't make out what. I felt guilty. I didn't mean to make them upset. I wanted to apologise but nothing came out. I couldn't speak.

Why was this happening? It all felt so wrong.

I couldn't breathe.

He noticed.

"Hey, hey, hey" he said in a soothing tone, voice croaky from crying. He leant forward but stopped himself before he got to close. His expression filled with pain. "Can I?" he asked.

I nodded. He moved himself to sit on the bed alongside me. One of his arms wrapped around me whilst the other pulled my head to his chest. He stroked my hair and I started to feel a little calmer.

"Breathe with me" he whispered. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest and soon I was able to match his rhythm.

Even after I could breathe again, he held me close. And I let him. For some reason his scent (cinnamon mixed with something else) felt like home. He whispered words of encouragement in my ear and told me that I was safe. Despite not knowing who he was, I believed him.

Soon my eyes felt too heavy to keep open. But as I succumbed to the world of sleep, I heard him ask one last thing.

"What did I do?".