I awoke upon a bed of water. I was surprised to see my vision had been completely restored and doubly surprised when I looked down to find my body in peak condition, with a certain arm very much intact.

 

The sky above me was a canvas of black, interrupted only by soft waves that danced slowly, and with purpose. Whenever I began to panic, I would look up at the waves and lose myself in them; the hues of blue, yellow and pink would ground me, providing a soft warmth throughout my body. I lay there floating, staring at the lights above, recalling the events that had recently taken place.

 

What a shitshow that all was. If I had to do it all again, knowing what to avoid, I suspect it would have turned out very much the same. Maybe I should have given up from the outset? I know Lucia and I would have certainly been in better condition. Unfortunately, amongst my many talents, time travel was not one of them. This regret was mine to hold for time immemorial.

 

It was hard to account for the passage of time when everything around you lay unmoving. With nothing to lose, I attempted to shift my body into an upright position and was rewarded for my efforts.

 

The ground below me rippled in response to my movements, similar in a way I supposed, to the puddles I used to play in as a kid.

 

That took me back. How long had it been since I had sealed away that portion of my life? 5 years? 10 years? Longer?

 

Objects warped and shifted in the distance, encompassed in a blue hue. A jar of old vintage coins, a picture of me and my brother in a pram, one tearing up causing the other to join in. An old console game that I was far too young to be playing. Each object was tied to a memory I had long forgotten. There was no end in sight.

 

As I reached the end of memory lane I came across a magazine. On the cover were 4 turtles dressed in colourful bandannas. I remembered! I was on a boat, my mother, brother and I. We were moving, abandoning our old life at the instruction of my mother. “Don’t you worry, everything is going to be better. You’ll see.”

 

More objects started to materialise in front of me, dyed red and appearing hostile. Where the previous memories had a calming aura about them the ones laid before me made me tense and anxious. I felt fear. I didn’t want to continue, I could hide with the comfy memories; at least I’d feel safe, but in my heart, I knew I was experiencing this for a reason. I looked around, everywhere around me was an empty void, only the long line before me provided any guidance on where to go. I took the first step, followed by another and soon the peaceful memories were no longer in sight.

 

It is hard to say how long I had been walking, some part deep inside me told me the memories had spanned somewhere close to 6 years. It started with my mother marrying, a happy joyous occasion while my brother and I were left in the shadows. Then it got worse, the sight of broken glass covered in my blood, stitches, a cold shower, and more blood splattered across the walls, both mine and my mother’s. The sight of empty alcohol bottles, of me consoling my brother as I hid my injuries out of his sight and through it all, the feelings of one very scared child. Honestly the less said the better.

 

The journey was difficult. There were many times when I had convinced myself I couldn’t go on. During these times I would look at the waves, feel a sense of safety and take another step. Sometimes I’d look at the waves as I went, step, wave, step, wave. Other times I could take several steps before having to look up. Before I knew it, I had made it to the end. I wanted to collapse, curl up into a ball and push everything back down, but I had done it. They were behind me and so too was my fear. The memories ahead weren’t exactly pleasant, but I knew nothing I faced today would be worse than what I had already overcome. I pressed on.

 

I was overcome with a new emotion, anger. I watched as I moved through the education system, angry at the Accord and myself. People came and went. Many tried to breach my walls, but all failed. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the younger version of myself, despite their show of arrogance, of superiority and intelligence, they were lonely. I attempted to hug myself, but these were shadows of my former life, and you can’t hug a shadow.

 

I arrived at the gates of the royal academy, a rather archaic name. Monarchies hadn’t existed for aeons, but that didn’t stop the upper class from making a crude and inaccurate distinction. My family wasn’t well off, I had gotten in solely on my merit, I watched as nobles and merchant sons alike distanced themselves from me, sneering and sniggering as they went. I didn’t belong here, and yet I distinctly remember being one of the best students that had ever graced the halls inside.

 

Now the cafeteria. A young woman, with long well-kept bangs, shone with the most brilliant scarlet you could imagine. She was being pestered by a group of nobles who fancied themselves quite the charmer. It was obvious the young woman had no desire to listen to them, but she was a timid being and so remained against her better judgement.

 

Each day, the same nobles, the same woman. On the 4^th day, I was tired of my meals being disturbed. I confronted the nobles and if I recall correctly, that was the first time I spoke in the university. I was beaten up for my efforts of course, but they never disturbed the woman again. I was gently lifted as she nursed my wounds. I sat there awkwardly as she looked me over, desperate to get away.

 

“Well, it was nice meeting you,” I had said, attempting to stand up and distance myself.

 

The woman grabbed my arm gently, but firm. “Now now. Just you wait you. They took off with your food. Here, you can have mine, I’m not feeling hungry today anyway.”

 

I wanted to leave, but as I stood there looking at this woman a couple of years younger than I, with a smile that extended from ear to ear, retaining no secrets, hiding no malice, I hesitated. I sat down, and my life finally started to take a turn. Her name was Lucia Sharpe. She was the first friend I can recall.

 

She was there for me, through thick and thin. There when I buried my brother and mother, there when I questioned my identity and there when I graduated with triple honours. I passed many more happy memories, but these were mine to cherish alone, so you’ll forgive me if I don’t share.

 

War had broken out shortly after our graduation and we were both drafted. Having the advantage of education, we were offered a position in the Office of Cosmic Naval Intelligence [OCNI]. I arrived at the end of my memories, right before the events of yesterday. The memories dissipated behind me in a soft breeze.

 

It wasn’t long until I heard voices around me, that seemed to simultaneously come from everywhere and nowhere. Moving did little to change this.

 

It started with strange hushed tones in a language I could not understand. This continued for some time before I was temporarily left in solitude. Then I heard her voice.

 

Lucia, my friend, my adoptive younger sister was there bawling. It’s funny, I was so relieved to hear her voice again that I momentarily forget I was in a void.

 

“Please mistress, please save her, I’ll do anything, just let her live.” My heart ached. I tried to call out, to tell her I was ok, but I found myself incapable of speech. She began speaking again, but her voice faded before I could make out what it was that she was saying. The next person I remember hearing sounded suspiciously similar to Ironhound.

 

“-never wanted to be a soldier. If I had my choice, I would have been a baker. I would have loved to wake early each morning, to see the fresh smiling faces of my customers as they entered my little shop tucked in a remote corner of the city.” A pause followed by a nervous laugh. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Zeitha, if you’re still in there, pull through. If anyone can do it, I know it’s you, you’re strong, br-“ The voice faded off again.

 

Then I heard singing. It was soft and alien, but not unpleasant. Comforting words were whispered between each new song and my phantom sense kicked in. I could have sworn someone was softly petting my head and the back of my neck.

 

My serenity was interrupted. “You know, you don’t have to go back.”

 

I turned to find the source of the unknown speaker and instead found… Myself?

 

I attempted to speak and was once again unsuccessful.

 

“Sorry, I guess that’s a little mean, allow me to explain,” I- It- We said? We moved off together slowly walking in silence going seemingly nowhere.

 

“You have a choice. You can stay here, with me. I can take all your worries away; you’ll never feel pain again.” We took my silence as an indication to continue. “Or, you can take my hand. In doing so I will return you to our body, but you accept all the hardship that comes with that. The choice is yours.”

 

I pondered the choice. Lucia and Ironhound were still alive, I knew this to be true. In addition to this, the Affini had made great strides to keep me alive, despite my… Obvious hostility. That meant they either needed something from me, or they weren’t as bad as I first thought. Lucia calling someone mistress did trigger some red flags, but not enough.

 

But then there was the other side. Eternal peace, no worries, no pain. It was hard to pass up. My hands remained firmly at my side.

 

“So, you’ve made your choice?”

 

I thought I had. For a moment I was ready to let it all fall away, to enter my kingdom, but it was taken- No, that’s not quite right. I was helped to realise that wasn’t what I wanted. A small series of vines wrapped around my left arm, gently pulling it upwards. They weren’t hard to resist, I knew I could have if I wished to. My hand took my own and a smile spread across my face.

 

“Very well.”

 

I awoke in a strange room.