Downfall And Rise

by Nathan Thompson

  But now I had been thinking about how she was wrong.

  For example, I wasn't some white knight to women. I had helped one, and no more than one, teenager like myself from what I thought was a bad situation, and from what she had insisted wasn't. It didn't match up with what Stell's magic rock had said about me. So it couldn't be real, right?

  Just then, I felt my phone buzz.

  I pulled it out and read a text from a number I hadn't had any contact from before.

  You cock-blocking sack of shit, the message said. Get in my way a third time and I swear you'll regret it.

  I read the message a second time, sure I was imagining it. Then I turned my phone off, blinked a couple of times, and turned it back on.

  The message didn't go away.

  The only person I could think would send me this would be Chris. But didn't that mean that-

  Bzzt.

  This time the phone vibrated painfully in my hand, and began to play a ringtone, the one I had picked out that had proven to be the least painful for my nerves.

  Incoming call from Christina, the screen said.

  Feeling cold again, I pressed accept and held the phone to my ear with trembling hands.

  “Hello?” I was trying to keep the numbness out of my voice. “Christina?”

  “Wes?” Her voice sounded wet, as if she had just got done sobbing.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “You were right,” she said suddenly. “I didn't want you to be, but you were right, and it saved me. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have doubted you at all. And I should have called and told you sooner.”

  The story spilled out of her then. Apparently Chris had taken her to one of the last parties of the semester, now that football season was almost over. He had been a perfect gentleman for the entire time they had been dating. But during this party, he had handed her a drink that she felt suspicious of. She almost drank it anyway, wanting to trust him, but then she had remembered my warning about him. She had refused to drink it, and Chris started to insist that she down it anyway. She had asked him to sip it and prove that it was safe, and then he became angry. He wounded up cursing her, calling her an uptight prude that refused to relax and have any fun, and that he was too good for her anyway. She had been heart-broken, but in the end she had been relieved to have escaped him without anything bad happening to her. Even though she was the one who had made the right decision, and under pressure no less, she was crediting me with saving her. And she refused to hear me tell her otherwise.

  I gave up trying to convince her that she was the one who had saved herself, and told her that I was just glad she was okay. But then I asked her when all of this happened.

  It had happened a few days ago. Almost right before my second Avalon dream.

  I don't remember much of what we said after that. I was too busy trying to keep my hand from dropping the phone.

  Because I knew now that I wasn't just dreaming. That I was either going crazy, and in a way that didn't make sense, or I was experiencing something that would get me labeled as crazy if anyone else ever found out about it.

  Somehow, the latter was the more terrifying.

  Chapter 12: Climb

  The mists were back.

  I saw them when I opened my eyes. I had gone for a brief nap in my room. It hadn't even been time for bed. I had just told my mom and sister that I was going to lie down for a bit.

  Next thing I knew, mist. Tree limbs. Soft grass on my back.

  No pain whatsoever throughout my body.

  That last fact kept my mouth shut and scream-less. No matter how crazy all of this was, it brought me an opportunity that I only experienced when I played Heroes Unbound in my VR harness. And in realizing that, my gratitude was able to eat up my fear. And in absence of fear, clarity and curiosity came to the forefront of my mind.

  I stood up, squared my shoulders, and headed toward the misty trees.

  “One way or another,” I said out loud. “I'm going to face this weirdness and figure it out. And you're not breaking or scaring me until I do at least that,” I declared to the mists around me.

  Deep from within the woods, I heard a dull boom.

  “Challenge accepted,” I thought I heard something say. “Avalon bears witness.”

  So there were deep, inhuman, scary voices coming from the trees now. Bring it on, I decided, and marched off into the misty woods.

  I tried to look for new details as I walked. Was it still misty without feeling overly damp? Yes it was. Did it still manage to cling to trees and grass blades, forming little dewdrops, in spite of it not feeling wet to walk through? Yes it did. Was it still night, yet bright enough to walk around in?

  No, that was different. The sky was lit with a hazy gray, as if the sun was hiding behind the clouds. I tried to find a bright, cloud covered spot that would serve as the sun, but no luck. Wherever this day-like light came from would remain a mystery for now.

  But that was okay, I decided. So help me, I would find a way to make progress on determining my crazy-not-crazy status.

  I picked my way through the trees, stepping over the occasional tree root that was poking above the soil. Dodging the occasional rock, while wondering if there was a way to make it glow blue and spit words at me, a geological supercomputer like the ones Stell used. But above all I kept picking my way forward, drawn to a specific location until I reached it. Eventually, the trees parted to form a misty clearing of some sort.

  There, in the middle of the meadow, stood Guineve.

  She was as beautiful as always, still looking like someone's ideal fantasy of a shapely woman in her late-thirties. Her raven-black hair hung just past her shoulders, but when I looked carefully, individual strands would occasionally rise up to wave in the same pattern that nearby mist did.

  Every now and then, a patch of her white dress would do the same, especially around the hems near her ankles. She seemed unbothered by this, still staring out as into the mist, as if she was focusing on something important.

  I wondered what she was looking at. Then I remembered that nothing stopped me from going up and talking with her. Maybe this time, I could get more answers from her.

  She heard my steps and turned her head toward me with a smile, but I suspected she had already known I was here.

  “Good afternoon, Wes.” she said with a stately nod. Once again, I found myself trying not to pay too much attention to the low cut in the front of her dress. She seemed to notice, judging by the smirk creeping up one corner of her mouth. “What brings you to us this fine day?”

  “I wish I knew, dear lady,” I said, and then bowed slightly. I could actually bow here, and it didn't hurt. Wild. “But it's a pleasure to see you again.”

  “I'm glad to hear that,” the mist-clad woman said, smirking wider as she did so. “I take it you would like to find Stell?”

  “Actually, is there a way for you to let her know I'm already here?” I replied. “I feel like I'm developing a nasty habit of surprising her, and that's not something I want to keep doing.”

  “Why, what a gentleman you are,” Guineve drolled. “I'll send her a message. But how on earth do you intend to pass the time while you wait?”

  “That depends,” I replied, grinning back at her. “Do you have any coffee?”

  She laughed at that. Just like last time, it was a surprisingly rich sound.

  “No, but if you keep being such a dear I might make some for you next time you stop by,” She finally replied.

  “In that case, would you mind if I talked with you a bit?” I asked, quietly noting that she knew what coffee was. “I feel like I should get to know the woman I keep relying on for directions a little better.”

  “Oh?” Guineve said with a raised eyebrow and shoulder. “You wish to spend time specifically with little me? Should I be worried about you, young lad? I'll have you know that I will not tolerate any improper behavior.”

  But she was still smiling as she spoke. What the heck, I told myself a
s I decided to play along.

  “Prithee, fair maiden,” I said with a mock bow. Still able to bow without pain, I thought. Awesome. “Know that mine intentions are naught but honorable, and that I hold thy chastity in the very highest of regards. Thou art safe with me.”

  She tilted her head at that, suddenly confused.

  “When did you learn Elven Courtspeak, and why are you speaking it so badly... oh!” she said suddenly.

  “I had forgotten about Shakespeare in your world. You're making fun of how your people used to talk!”

  “Yes,” I said uncomfortably. “I'm afraid that's about as good as my Shakespeare gets, so don't get too excited.”

  “I'll take it,” Guineve said with a shrug. “But I'll expect you to take more lessons at some point. What do you wish to know, Wes?”

  “Any number of things, frankly,” I replied. “I'd really love if you could prove whether or not I'm going crazy, but I'll settle for learning why I always run into you first when I come here- not a complaint,” I added with a smile. “But I'd love to be able to understand what it is you actually do here, and how you're connected to Stell.”

  “Well,” Guineve replied regally, tossing her hair back from one of her shoulders. “My time is valuable, but I suppose I'll answer what I can.” She grinned at me again, and this time I couldn't help grinning back. The mist-clad woman looked for all the world like she had risen out of a lake to hand out Excalibur a thousand years ago. Yet she managed to maintain that solemn air, that gravity in her words, while having as fun with it she possibly could. She had a confidence about her that enabled her to tease me without making her mean, and so far her semi-flirtatious remarks had just seemed playful instead of serious, or creepy.

  “At any rate,” she continued. “I wouldn't know if you're crazy or not, I'm afraid. I know Stell vouches for you, but... oh, you meant that coming here was a sign of being crazy.” The raven-haired woman winked at me. “The Challengers all seemed to wonder that, for some reason. My assurances that things were perfectly normal here didn't seem to help, so I'm not sure what to do for you, young man. After all, if you're worried I'm not real then you're not going to be able to take my word for your sanity. But the other Challengers all figured it out on their own eventually, so I'm sure you'll do the same.” She paused, apparently to think about my next question. “As for me, didn't Stell already explain what I do here? And our bond?”

  “No, not really,” I admitted. “I'm still trying to wrap my idea around how you both are sort of the same person. Am I talking to her when I'm talking to you? And if so, why does she keep getting surprised by me?”

  “We're what you Earthlings would call 'complicated,” Guineve said loftily. I suddenly realized that whatever else, she was the kind of person that had entirely too much fun being mysterious.

  “That really doesn't narrow down anything,” I replied. “We Earthlings call each other complicated all the time. Especially between genders.”

  “Hmph,” The tall woman sniffed. “Amateurs. Let me start with the simpler question first: My role is Stewardess. Stell is in charge of monitoring all of the worlds at once. It's much easier to have a second pair of eyes on each world, so I make it my job to watch Avalon. I monitor the mists for unusual activity, greet incoming visitors, and guard against anything that might threaten Avalon. I've been doing all of this for as long as I've been alive.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly. “I think I understand. Stell created you?”

  “Correct,” Guineve said with a nod.

  “To help her watch over Avalon?”

  “Incorrect,” Guineve shook her head. “I volunteered for that.”

  “Why?” I asked, confused again.

  “I knew she needed help,” Guineve said simply. “So I told her I'd help.”

  “But...” I struggled to understand. “She did create you. She modifies you, based on what I heard the first time I came here. So she must have created you, somehow, for another, specific reason.”

  “She did,” Guineve affirmed. “A reason I promised I'd never talk about.”

  That wasn't mysterious at all, I thought to myself.

  “You're rather curious, aren't you?” Guineve asked after a moment. She had asked that question casually, with an appraising expression on her face.

  “I... guess so?” I replied. “Have you not had to explain yourself to other Challengers before?”

  Guineve shook her head.

  “We're usually ready for their arrival. We control it, in fact. They don't arrive until Stell sends out a Call, and even then we have an idea of how long it takes for them to get here. And usually time is short, we have to prepare them for an upcoming Trial or Tumult, make them able to save lives, or slay hordes of not-things. So they're too busy saving worlds to ask about us. They just assume we're all a pantheon of goddesses and leave us at that. Only the last Challenger was even remotely curious. I don't know how he found the time to be. But even he didn't have time to learn everything.”

  “I see,” I replied. “I keep catching you all off guard. Like having guests come over when you're still in your pajamas.”

  “Oh, she'd just kill you if you did that,” Guineve gave another chuckle. “Try and find a way to knock on something when you come here, dear lad. It would be good for your health.”

  “But you're the one who keeps tricking me into surprising her,” I said in my defense.

  “Mmhmm,” Guineve hummed simply with a smile. I was not reassured.

  “You're not, though, are you?” I asked. “Not goddesses I mean. Not exactly.”

  “A fair question,” the woman replied. “We try to avoid being discovered at all, much less worshiped. We're just observers. Until recently, I was one of the only two parts of Stell that knew how to fight at all, aside from herself. That was part of the reason we needed Challengers to begin with.” Guineve paused her speech, looked around, and brushed away a thread of black hair that floated in front of her face.

  “Why doesn't she keep making more of you, instead of relying on Challengers?” I asked. I was prying, I knew, but I was also possibly going crazy. I needed things to make a little more sense, or at least have a semi-logical explanation to them.

  I needed things to be less weird. Fortunately Guineve didn't mind the question.

  “Stell can only makes so many of us, and it always cost her to do so. A Starsown makes more bodies by investing in them. Parts of themselves go into the new body, such as their knowledge, special powers, or their maturity. They then lose access to those traits until they slowly grow back.”

  “All of them?” I asked, surprised. “Does she have to re-learn how to walk, or jump, or breathe?” the last one sounded particularly fatal, but then I wasn't exactly sure if people even breathed in this place.

  But Guineve just smiled patronizingly at me.

  “Of course not. That would be just silly. Common things like basic movement are re-learned almost instantaneously. It's the more complicated things, most of which you would probably regard as magic, that take a long time to return. And the memories,” Guineve added quietly. “Those take the longest to re-form.”

  “Really?” I asked. “I can see relearning something one day. But how does a memory grow back at all?”

  “Very slowly,” Guineve admitted. “One memory, Earth-seconds long, takes the lifetime of several Challengers to return to a Starsown's mind.”

  “That sounds... incredibly dangerous.” I replied. “She could lose something dangerously important if she did that. Why would she ever directly share memories then, when she could just tell you what happened?”

  “I promised I would not say,” Guineve repeated.

  But she had given me enough information to be curious, to draw partial conclusions. Was that on purpose?

  I wanted to ask her, but then she curled her mouth into a smile, and somehow I knew she wouldn't tell me anything more. But that in itself was an answer for me.

  Just then, a voice called out through th
e mists. It sounded faint, and I couldn't make out the words even though it echoed through the trees. Then it called out again.

  “Guineve...”

  I turned to look back the tall woman next to me, but she just smiled and shook her head, holding a pale finger to her lips.

  “Guineve...Guineve!”

  The voice grew closer, and more forceful.

  And more exasperated.