Awakening

by Hayden Pearton

  *

  The air crackles with frost, the frigid wind ripping through my unprotected body. Snow falls in an unhurried tempo, its white existence blanketing the land for miles. Although the air around me is frozen, I feel no chill on my exposed skin. On the contrary, I feel warm, as if my entire being has been filled with light. The stars above illuminate the night sky, bathing the area in hallowed light. The soft sand cushions my bared feet and the fallen snow serves as a gossamer carpet, reflecting the ivory light from the heavens.

  A sombre voice calls out, cutting through the darkness, saying, “Son of None. Daughter of None. Father of None. Starting alone, facing the sins of your past, you have gathered here, in the nexus of life and death, where all shall be revealed unto you. We are the ones who keep the balance between man and nature. We watch over your kind, so that your fleeting lives will not end in vain. We are eternal, we are omniscient, we know all and see all, and we need your help.”

  The landscape flickers, as the force of the words resounds through reality. For an instant, I see other people, though their forms are distorted and shadowy. I cannot move, I cannot speak. I watch silently as the world changes before my very eyes. A valley is carved out from a mountain, a savannah becomes a sea, and a forest withers into an endless field of sand.

  I am flying in the air above the desert, quickly approaching a familiar green haze. I alight gently on the cold sand, as time wheels overhead, night becoming day and day becoming night. As soon as I walk past the first palm, time stops. I look up and my eyes widen at what I see. A field of stars and galaxies, in perfect detail. They look as if I could easily reach out and grab one; though at the same time they seem to be unreachable in their heavenly loft.

  The darkened leaves are still, their once vibrant veins covered with early morning dew. I walk forward, aware of a presence in the clearing up ahead. The woman standing there seems to glow, as she is bathed in the starlight which exists only for her convenience. Her long white hair is whipped about by a non-existent breeze, as her soft eyes lock on to mine. Standing beside her is an ancient retainer, weary in body but strong in mind. Before I have a chance to speak, a light descends from above.

  The light darts this way and that, like a playful youngling, before splitting into two identical spheres of light which then settle on the cold sand. One of the entities emits a powerful golden light, whilst the other shines with deep blue tones. The lights grow brighter, as the orbs begin to pulsate and swell. From the size of a closed fist, to that of a human head, before finally settling into an orb five feet in diameter.

  Around the golden sphere, the sand begins to ripple outwards, as the earth itself beats in rhythm with the luminescent entity. The fine matter begins to flow into the heart of the light, giving it substance, giving it form. Nearby, a similar transformation is also occurring, as the water from the nearby lake is funnelled into the blue sphere. The lights, having absorbed the elements, change once more. They twist and contort, arms and legs appearing from the ether.

  Two sets of eyes stare out from the vaguely humanoid figures, twin tones of emerald and sapphire that sends shivers down my spine. The dream ripples, and the bodies before me become clear and well defined.

  “Terra.”

  The name comes unbidden to my cracked lips, for it is the name of the divine figure standing before me. The woman beside him turns and glances in my direction, flashing a wry smile before addressing Alza and Kingston.

  “I would say good evening, but what is time in a dream? I understand that you are confused, but please bear with us for just a little bit longer, and then everything will be revealed to you.”

  Her voice resonates with images of gently flowing streams and deep, unexplored abyssal trenches. She appears to be satisfied with her introduction, but suddenly lets out a gasp of surprise and adds, “Oh where are my manners! We know who you are but some of you don’t know who we are. My name is Ion, and this serious minded man is my twin brother, Terra.”

  Terra turns his head towards us at the sound of his name, giving a solemn look that speaks volumes but says little, “We know that this is hard for your tragically mortal intellects, but please allow me to try and explain in a manner that will be easy to understand.”

  Around us, the scenery begins to change, as earth and sky distort and dissipate. The ground beneath me disappears into nothingness, leaving me floating in the void. There is nothing. No sound, no light, no warmth. Nothing. Unseen, Ion and Terra’s voices call out in unison, the words cutting through the eternal darkness that surrounds me.

  “In the beginning, there was the Void. It existed before you, and when you are long gone it will come again. Some say that a deity of unimaginable power reached down from his heavenly perch and created everything: time, space, even life itself. However, others disagree, and postulate that it was the explosive sub-atomic interactions of proto-matter that created an expanding universe, which gave rise to everything that exists today.”

  Before us, a swirling ball of nothingness has gathered. It spins and gathers speed, dragging in more and more of the void. In this place, size and time had no meaning, but I could tell that the sphere before me would span the cosmos. Its speed increases, as the ball of energy and proto-matter sinks lower into the realm of reality. From within the swirling mass, I can see shapes, rising up and evaporating in endless repetition. It was as if the universe was trying to be born, but was unable to decide on a definitive shape or purpose.

  Even now the shapes are becoming clearer, more distinct. I see dead worlds, their stars winking out one by one. I see galaxies being ripped apart, until even the atoms are fragmented. I see time and space collide, as another hundred universes die. I see world-turtles and lovecraftian horrors. All appear and disappear, their afterimages burned into my mind. I can feel Alza to my left and Kingston to my right. I cannot see their faces in the void, but I take solace in their presence.

  The images within the expanding sphere solidify for the final time, revealing a sea of stars and galaxies that seem oddly familiar. The possible universe begins to push back the nothingness, filling it up, taking its place. In an instant, I am floating above the centre of the universe. Before me is a small, intensely bright, ball of light.

  “We cannot say which is the right explanation, for whatever gave rise to the cosmos also gave birth to us. In our infant state, we wandered the width and breadth of existence, searching for a place to call home. We searched and searched, for we desired only one thing: a birthplace of life.”

  We float in the void and watch as the ball of light moves and dances between the galaxies. It circles suns and weaves between the nebula, never stopping, never ceasing. After what seems like eternity, it comes to a simple, relatively unremarkable spiral galaxy. It stops, for the first time in its aeons-old existence, as if it had sensed something. It slices through the void, seeking out its goal. Turning to the most unremarkable arm of an already bland galaxy, it begins to pick up speed.

  Travelling light-years in the blink of an eye, it homes in on an unassuming section of what has been established to be a mundane place. It ignores thousands of exciting, colourful stars, speeding towards a small yellow sun. There, around the new-born sun, swirls an immense ring of dust and ice. Already, a few planets have formed from the protoplasmic disk. Tiny ice worlds, red hot gas giants, and rocky moons. Near the star’s eternal glow, a small planet is struggling to be born.

  Against the backdrop of the fascinating universe, such a tale was common. Perhaps it would become a moon, to be absorbed into the orbit of one of the nearby giants. Perhaps it would be flung out of the solar system, destined to drift forever, lifeless and alone. But, although it was nothing important, it spoke of potential. It spoke of a place where things would struggle against the odds just to exist.

  It spoke of life.

  The luminous sphere, weary from its travels, glides slowly towards its destined target. Upon reaching the globe, it extends a portion of itself, touching the sti
ll molten core. The world responds, drawing the light in. With the speed of continental drift, the two spheres silently collide. In the intense heat of the fusion, the two separate entities became one united presence.

  “At the time, we were overjoyed. We had reached a place where we could fulfil our purpose. After the planet had cooled and the seas had settled, we witnessed the spark of life become a storm of evolution. Creatures rose and fell, their short lifespans serving as nothing more than a reminder that mortals live fast and die young. However, after a time, a creature rose like none before it. Not content to merely live out their lives and then pass on to the next world, they sought out ways to immortalise themselves. Thus, culture was brought into the world. In those days, when your kind lived in caves and died in holes, we descended from our lofty vantage-points.”

  Ion is speaking, but there is sorrow in her eyes. Whatever she is showing us clearly caused her a great deal of strife. She, however, does not notice my gaze, and continues her tale.

  “They worshipped us as gods, and we led them. We gave them food when they were hungry, shelter when they were scared, and knowledge when they sought answers. With time, they prospered under our guidance, their numbers became numerous and their cities covered the land. It was then, when they began to question the purpose of our existence, did we decide to depart. We left them to their own devices, hoping that they would continue on the path to prosperity and peace. However, no sooner had we departed, the people who had once been united began to fall apart. They fought and killed one another, forsaking our words of non-violence. Sadly, they were not content with just killing their own kind, soon they devised methods with which to destroy the very earth beneath them. Their factories polluted the skies, and their toxins scoured the seas. When humanity finally realised what they had done, they panicked and fled to their chambers of ice and steel. They abandoned the planet… They left it to die.”

  The resonating voice has taken on a darker tone, as images of the dying planet filled the scene before us. We hear the cries of the forests as they burn, we felt the seas boil, and we watch as our forefathers turn tail and run from what they had done. Alza holds her steady gaze, watching the decomposing planet with a mixture of contempt and apathy. Kingston on the other hand, silently weeps at the destruction, but makes no motion to wipe away the tears that stream down his grizzled face.

  Suddenly, the scene shifts to another familiar location. Before me lies Barsch La Tergan, as evidenced by the writing on the plasma monitor beside his cryogenic pod. He wears a placid smile on his frozen face. If only he knew what fate had in store for him… perhaps then he would not smile so innocently.

  He, or should I say I, am approached by a robed figure. The stranger turns his gaze towards us, revealing the tell-tale emerald of Terra’s eyes. Silently, he turns back, and raises a hand towards my pod. As his fingers brush against the smooth glass, a shock runs through my sleeping body, and the previously unmoving heart-rate monitor begins to pick up pace.

  “You destroyed your world, and we, the Avatars of the planet, have decided to give you a second chance. Perhaps it’s because of our eons-old attachment to you, or perhaps watching thousands of years of progress fade away into nothingness is too hard for us to do. Either way, you have been chosen as an envoy of your kind, to prove to us that you are worth saving.”

  Without warning, the image of my awakening fades away, replaced by the now familiar oasis. The Avatars, for that is what they were, reappear. They wear masks of sadness and regret, but I catch a glimpse of hope, buried deeply. Kingston, finally wiping away his tears, softly asks, “How? How can we prove ourselves?”

  Terra looks at the old man with a peculiar glare, as if he was seeing him for the first time. Perhaps he was.

  Turning his gaze back towards us, he says, “In order for you to gain your redemption and earn our favour, you must complete a task for us. In a place very far from here, an evil man is preparing to put an end to humanity once and for all. Before you can even think of saving our planet, you must find a way to put a stop to his madness. However, know this: If you fail, there will be nothing left to save, and humans will never again walk the land.”

  At last, the truth. All of this, everything we had gone through since we left Kingston’s hut has led to this moment. A part of me wants to weep, for I know now that I will most likely never return to Genesis Station.

  Despite this, I cannot object. I cannot refuse this task. They awoke me from my sleep, me alone, and chose me. I raise my voice, “Who is he, this madman who desires our destruction?”

  This time, it is Ion who answers in a sombre tone, “He is one who would do whatever it takes to accomplish his goal. In fact, one of you has even met him, though I doubt you would remember.”

  Suddenly I feel a tremor rock the oasis. A remnant of the earlier quake? No, I have felt this before. The dream is breaking down. Ion, judging by the slightly annoyed look on her pristine face, has noticed as well.

  “It is unfortunate, but we have stayed here too long. If we remain here any longer we risk affecting the course of destiny. And that… must not be allowed to happen.”

  “Wait! We don’t even know where to look? Where can we find the madman… at least give us that much…” Kingston’s voice has a pleading edge, and I can understand why. We have been given a mission that could decide the fate of the human race, but we haven’t even one clue as to the madman’s whereabouts. We could search for years and not find him. And I doubt that Kingston has that long…

  Terra nods, radiating agreement. “If you follow the path of the setting sun, you will find a way to your salvation. And, to insure that you do not stray from the path, I will fashion for you a pathfinder, a guiding Spectre.”

  The Avatar raises his hands to the sky and claps his hands together, once, twice, three times. From the heavens a pure and melodious cry answers his call. Swooping down with the grace of a swallow and the speed of a falcon comes a multi-coloured sphere of light. It is an enigmatic creature, always changing size and colour seemingly on a moment’s whim.

  Suddenly Kingston gives a startled cry, saying, “It was you wasn’t it? You helped us find shelter yesterday, didn’t you?” The creature turns a bright shade of green and bobs up and down in furious agreement.

  “There, your path is set. You have your guide. All that remains is for you to follow them.”

  Both avatars turn to leave when Alza, who has remained silent until now, calls out, “I refuse. Why should I even consider following along with this?”

  Ion and Terra return her steely gaze, their faces kept unnaturally neutral. The tense moment drags on, until Terra opens his mouth to answer. However, a single glance from Ion silences him.

  Taking a step towards Alza, she says, “Ah, daughter of none, I had expected you to complain. Whilst the old man seeks redemption, and the youth seeks purpose, you have nothing, and so you want for nothing.” She is wearing what she probably thinks is a comforting smile, but it makes me want to turn and flee.

  “If you desire to find out who, and what, you are, you would be wise to follow our directions. For at the end of your journey many more things will be made clear. Whether you will have the strength to accept what you learn is another thing… And now, it is time for us to depart. Sweet dreams...”

  With that the two figures begin to disappear, Ion evaporating into the night sky and Terra sinking into the earth. Just before he disappears completely, Terra turns to me and whispers, “Good luck.”

  And then we are alone once more. Alza is staring into the distance, a strange look on her face, while Kingston’s brow is furrowed in deep thought. Saying nothing, I merely wait for reality to reclaim us, dragging us back into the hard, uncaring world.