Meleng opened his eyes to a view of an ice ceiling. A quick glance to either side confirmed he was in his room in the Guest Lodge. He was lying on the mattress there.
How had he got here?
For that matter, where had he been before here?
He couldn’t remember.
He tried to sit up, but the whole room spun round and he fell back with a groan.
“No, no! Don’t sit up!” Sinitïa came into view, leaning over him, concern on her face.
Funny. He hadn’t noticed her in the room, though admittedly, he hadn’t really gotten a good look at it all.
She bent over him. “Mikranasta said you’ll get dizzy if you sit up. They did a lot of...stuff to your head. I didn’t really understand half of what she said, but they used all kinds of magic on your mind. It took her a long time to undo it all, and she said you need to rest before you can recover completely.”
“Right, okay.” She was out of focus, so Meleng blinked several times. That was better.
Sinitïa sat beside him and ran a hand over his cheek and through his hair. A tingle ran through him, and he closed his eyes to cut out the other sensations and just enjoy the feel of her fingers.
But they stopped.
Slowly, he opened his eyes again. She was still sitting over him, her fingers still on his scalp. He could feel them again.
So he closed his eyes once more. This time, the sensation remained. She must have briefly stopped last time.
It was certainly much nicer with his eyes closed. No swirling, out-of-focus room to struggle against. Just the touch of her fingers in his hair.
“I was so worried,” Sinitïa said. “So scared I’d never see you again.”
“What happened?” He wished he could remember.
“Mikranasta said you might not remember right away. She said to give it time. She said I shouldn’t overload you with information. Your mind is still healing.”
That made sense, he supposed.
She removed her hand. A moment later, the mattress shook as she pressed herself up against him. Something tickled his face. He opened his eyes again to the sight of her blonde hair adorned with streaming, coloured ribbons. She was lying beside and against him.
“So,” he said, “what can you tell me?”
She hesitated before responding. “I’m not sure. I want to tell you so much.”
“Where’s Jorvan?”
She gasped, and rolled over to face him. “I forgot! I should go tell him you’re awake.”
“That would probably be a good idea.”
But she didn’t move. Instead, she stared into his eyes, her own bright blue eyes seeming to sparkle. There were tears forming in them.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She smiled at him and sniffled. “I’m just so happy you’re back and safe.” She pressed her forehead against his. “I was afraid you’d died.”
They lay like that for a while longer. He stared into her eyes, wishing he could remember what had happened, what had brought him here. Why was she afraid for his life?
“I should probably go tell Jorvan, shouldn’t I?” she said eventually.
“Yeah,” he said. Maybe, by the time she was back, his head would have cleared enough for him to remember, or for her or Jorvan to tell him.
She slid off the bed and stood up, then picked up her coat from the floor right beside her.
Funny. He hadn’t noticed the coat there earlier, or the scarves, mittens, and other outdoor wear she was now picking up. He closed his eyes briefly again. He was so unobservant.
When he opened his eyes, she was carefully tucking her hair, tied back with a single, large white bow, into her hood. She smiled at him. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”
He nodded and groaned. Even that caused the room to spin.
“Are you okay?” She leaned back over him.
“Just a little dizzy. I’ll be fine. Go tell Jorvan. I’ll try to get to some more sleep.”
She nodded, kissed him on the forehead, and hurried to the door. “I’ll be really fast!” Then she was gone.
She came back in.
“Forget something?” he said.
She paused in removing her scarves. “Huh?”
“You’re back so fast. Did you forget something?”
She giggled. “You’re silly!”
He tried to sit up, but immediately regretted it again. He closed his eyes again to get rid of the spinning. “But you only just left.”
“No, I didn’t,” she said. “I went all the way to Jorvan’s and told him. Then I came back. I went as fast as I could, but it still took like an hour or so.”
Had he fallen asleep?
He must have.
“Jorvan’s coming by the way. He said he’d just be a few minutes behind me.”
“That’s good. I’m looking forward to seeing him.”
The mattress shook a little again. “He’s looking forward to seeing you too.”
Meleng took a deep breath, hoped the room had stopped spinning, and opened his eyes again. Sinitïa was sitting beside him, leaning over him and supporting herself with one hand on the opposite side of him. Her hair was in a pair of pigtails, each tied with a bright red bow. She smiled at him, her bright green eyes seeming to sparkle once again.
“You changed your hair,” he said.
“Huh?” She shook her head. “Not today.”
“But…” Hadn’t she had a single bow before?
And before that, streaming ribbons?
And wait…
Had her eyes changed colour?
“By Cosmos’s broken wing, always the eyes! Always the wingless eyes!”
It was not Sinitïa who had spoken.
Meleng sat up. The room spun, but he ignored it—tried to, at any rate. Sinitïa spun with the room and everything blurred.
“How can you not know her eye colour? Someone who has such a prominent place in your mind, someone you care deeply about, and yet you don’t know her eye colour.”
“I...I just don’t pay attention to those kinds of things.”
The blur of the room became just a mess of colours that gradually faded into a dull grey.
“I’m still here, aren’t I?” Meleng asked.
He wasn’t entirely sure where “here” was, but he had a vague recollection of having been “here” awhile. Even having the same, or nearly the same, conversation.
Images of “waking up” to Sinitïa or Jorvan or Akna or Felitïa flashed through his head.
“I’ve been through this before, haven’t I?” he said.
“Too many times,” the voice said.
Had he ever seen the person speaking? He couldn’t be sure, but he didn’t think so.
“When my diare told me I needed to practise on a human,” the voice said, “I scoffed. She was angry at me over that, and yet I still scoffed. I thought there was no way I couldn’t handle a human. What a fool I was. My diare is powerful and wise. I will never doubt her again.”
Meleng almost laughed, this situation was so absurd. But it was terrifying too. “If it’s the eyes giving it away, why not just set a colour? I mean, if I don’t know Sinitïa’s eye colour, then I won’t notice, will I?” Did he know her eye colour? They were blue, weren’t they? He wasn’t sure. He really was bad at that sort of thing.
“I don’t owe you any explanations.”
Meleng shrugged.
Or did he? He couldn’t really feel anything. There were no sensations other than the voice and the endless grey colour.
At any rate, he didn’t need an explanation. He could guess at least part of it. The illusions he was being subjected to were reliant on his own mind filling in most of the details. Convincing his mind that Sinitïa’s eyes were a specific colour when he didn’t really know the colour was probably very difficult. Same with her changing hairstyles, or her coat not being there until it was needed. It was like a dream.
He was getting better at noticing the signs. At least, he was fairly certain he was. He vaguely recalled the earliest dream sequence lasted much longer before he realised it wasn’t real. Each time, it was taking a little bit less time before he realised what was happening and returned to this...wherever he was, and spoke to his real captor.
Assuming the voice was not another illusion, which was entirely possible.
“Not going to say anything else?” the voice said.
“Should I?”
“You usually do.”
“I don’t really want to talk to someone who won’t show me their real self.”
“What is reality?” the voice said.
That was a deep philosophical question Meleng had no desire to discuss with his captor.
“No answer? Let me tell you then. Reality is whatever I decide it is. And I will master you. Let’s start again.”
Meleng’s heart began to beat faster. “Wait! No, not again! Please!”
* * * * *
Meleng opened his eyes to a view of an ice ceiling. A quick glance to either side confirmed he was in his room in the Guest Lodge. He was lying on the mattress there.
How had he got here?
For that matter, where had he been before here?
He couldn’t remember…
