*
After bearing the visions for another hour, an image appeared in front of him that made him stop in his tracks. It was a small boy -around nine or ten- bleeding from the nose and mouth, with a blank stare on his pale face. His shirt was muddy and smelled of dried blood, and several tears criss-crossed the material. The boy's long, brown hair was streaked with blood; and a small hole was located between his olive green eyes, a trickle of blood pointing to its location.
Shaking uncontrollably, Barsch took a deep breath, closing his eyes and counting to fifty. When he opened them again, the boy was gone, replaced by a girl a few years younger than him. She too was bleeding, this time from a large wound in her chest. Her face was streaked with tears, and she appeared to be mouthing something repeatedly.
“Sa... me... save.... save... please...”
Her auburn hair covered the majority of her bronze-toned face, and her hazel eyes were still wide with shock.
“Go away! You aren't real. You... you died that day. I dug your grave!”
As if she had been made of smoke, she dissipated into the morning air. “Enough! Two dead friends, Isn't that enough for one day!” Barsch closed his eyes for the last time, praying that he would open them to a world without ghosts of the past. He did so and, seeing nothing before him, sighed in relief.
“No! Don't leave me! Please, I have a family! I'll die! Please, don't run away! Please...”
“Please, no…” he thought, already knowing what would happen next.
Barsch turned, already dreading what he would see next. First it had been Rigel, a boy whom had lived across from his third residence. He had died in an attack by a group of raiders, hell-bent on stealing valuable supplies and hoarding them. Barsch had been his tutor and occasional babysitter, but had failed in his duty when a stray bullet had struck the child.
Next to appear had been Yumiere, his first crush. Her father had worked with his own, and they had grown close in their brief time together. She had suggested visiting a nearby ruined settlement and, although Barsch had been warned of the dangers, he agreed to accompany her. While exploring, a terrible accident had occurred, and she had fallen down a steep embankment, before being impaled through the chest by a stray branch. He could still remember her dying words, her dying plea for help, until she finally accepted her fate, and told him that she didn't blame him. Yet he had blamed himself, for failing to protect her.
The visions had occurred in the same order as before and, judging from the voice behind him, he knew what to expect. Even so, he turned around, staring at the image of the half-dead woman before him. He had never found out what her name had been, so she existed in his mind as the Unknown Woman. He had encountered her whilst fleeing with his father from a nearby pollution outbreak. She had crawled to him, one leg missing, lost in the chaos and panic, and begged for his aid. As the noxious fumes and killing toxins had raced towards where he stood, he had wrenched her hands away and run for his life. He had never looked back, but had heard her deathly scream as her flesh had begun to boil.
While he had been in the midst of his recollections, the other two had materialized once more, softly chanting his name with increasing malice. The guilt of his actions burned within his heart, and it was all he could do to mutter, “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,” again and again, in endless repetition. Their voices drowned out his own, as they slowly shambled towards him.
He knelt down, crying with frustration, trying to remember the words of his father, “Through fire,” Yumiere drew closer, pleading with him to save her, “Through ice,” Rigel was crying, howling for his long-lost parents, “Through deepest despair,” the Unknown Woman was tugging at his shirt, her scarlet tears shining in the bright sunlight, “Never Lose Your Stride!”
The last line had been screamed at the top of his voice, trying to drive away the apparitions. He opened his eyes, hoping for a normal sight to relieve his tortured mind.
Standing a few feet away, with the sun rising behind him, was Terra. His emerald cloak swirled and snapped, though the breeze had long since died. He appeared to be looking somewhere that did not quite exist, but he snapped back to reality once he spotted Barsch's tear streaked face.
“I... I saw them. They were...”
“Stop. What you saw was meant for you alone. Your past belongs only to you, it's your choice whether to run from it or accept it in its entirety.”
“Thanks. Next time they appear, I'll be ready. I… won’t run away again. ”
“Hmph! I don't want your thanks. But know this, what you're going through now is but a fraction of what you'll have to face later. So if you can't handle this much, you're never going to cope with what lies ahead. Just keep that in mind.”
“Don't worry!” said Barsch with a forced grin, “I can handle anything you can throw at me.”
Terra politely ignored his obvious lie before saying, “That's better. Now, let's get a move on, or we'll miss the deadline.”
“Deadline?” Barsch asked, more confused than ever. He had so many questions he wanted to ask, but he could tell that it was not the time for them.
“It's not something that you should be worrying about right now. Let’s see if we can get you to the oasis in one piece, then we can discuss deadlines.”
“I guess you're right, let's go.”
Seen from afar, they probably looked like two good friends, or close siblings, out for a stroll. However, few would guess that they were in fact an ethereal, supernatural entity and a frightened yet hopeful young man. They walked in silence for the better part of an hour, before Barsch mustered up enough courage to talk.
“Um... Terra? Where exactly did you go? When I woke up I was alone.”
“Hmm… alone? You're in my domain, so you were never really alone. I was there, watching you battle yourself, seeing what you would do.”
Barsch wanted to ask why, but once again he sensed that Terra would not tell him everything just yet. Instead, he said, “Another question. I found this canteen by the camp-site, do you know who it belongs to?”
Terra took the canister of precious water, turning it over in his strong hands.
“Be thankful human. This is a gift from my sister. And she is not one to give such things freely. If you don't treasure it and take good care of it... well, let's not dwell on exactly would happen to you, just know that anything would be more appealing than her wrath.”
Barsch took the canister back and gently tucked it away, careful not to mar its smooth surface.
“Tell me something Barsch. Do you think that there's a difference between killing for pleasure and killing for gain?”
The random question threw Barsch and he stammered for an answer. “Wha? Um... I guess that if you think about it, life is sacred, and destroying it just for fun is wrong, no matter how you look at it.”
“Good answer. Then suppose I change the question. Is there a difference between dying for an ideal or dying for glory?”
“I don't really see what this has to do with anything but, I think that I would rather live for something I believe in, rather than dying in order to gain remembrance.”
“Another good answer. You have been raised well. Now, what if I ask… If you had to die so that someone else could live, could you do it?”
Barsch thought of Alza and Kingston, of his innate desire to protect them, and the lengths he would go to ensure their safety.
“If my death could save someone, I would die with a smile on my face.” Barsch wondered if Terra was testing him, but at that moment, the strange man’s questions were keeping his mind away from the pain.
“Three for three. Impressive! Now, last question: would you be able to kill someone who, with their death, would save hundreds of thousands of people?”
Unlike the other questions, this one did not have an easy answer. Barsch thought for a few minutes before replying, “I don't know. Every life is sacred, whether it be one or a thousand. Even if it meant my own death, I don't think I would
be able to kill.”
“Hmm, not exactly what I hoped to hear, but good enough for now. In time, I think that you'll come to understand that there are times when death is the only option, and at that moment, I hope you will find something worth killing for.”
Barsch was about to voice his complaint that such a situation would never arise, when a low rumbling, originating from his stomach, filled the air. It was a reminder from his body that he had not eaten a proper meal in two days.
Terra chuckled at the sound, saying with a smile, “That could be a problem. Here, I'll help you out, just this once.”
As he spoke Terra knelt and pressed his hands into the sand, muttering under his breath. The sand surrounding him began to pulse and undulate, with multiple ripples forming and quickly disappearing. They radiated out, continuing on for as far as the eye could see.
When the last ripple had vanished, Terra looked up and said, “Found it. A source of food about four hours walk from here. Do you think you can stay conscious for that long?”
Barsch wanted to tell Terra that he was on the verge of collapse, but something told him that this was still part of the test. So, instead he said, “Well, another four hours doesn't really mean much to two days’ worth of hunger, so I should be fine.”
“Good. Well, I wish you luck and hope that the bounty of the earth satisfies your… hunger.”
Still kneeling, Terra began to sink into the sank, until nothing was left but two small impressions from where he had once been. There had been no time to call out, to beg him to stay. Once more, Barsch was alone…
The instant Terra left, the pain came back in force, as if to make up for lost time. Crying out, he stumbled but did not fall. Food was a mere four hours away. Gritting his teeth, he set off. Four hours. Eternity. Both sounded the same in his mind. It was going to be a very long day…
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