Post by axie on Mar 3, 2011 13:17:51 GMT -5
The thing on or inside the ground there, just past the rusted gates that once led to the castle, was a curious thing. It wasn't fully palpable yet, like a ghost or hologram. Here and there, weaving in and out of the empty chest--sightless eyes, limp hands--a single purl of light wound its way through the air in a soft miasma of color, crooning. The thing grew solid, bit by bit. Open hands lay on either side in a bloodless crucifixion, leather tightened over its limbs, and a red mane pillowed its head against the broken rock.
The thing that was Axel choked on air.
His name was the first memory that hit him, but it wasn't right. There had been something before this, the Axel that he knew he was--or wasn't--but it was gone with all the memories that told him who Axel had been. He only knew that he was alive in memory, somewhere, and that was the only way he existed now.
Sensation was a mystery at first, and sight failed him until he remembered how it worked. He could feel the ground below that stretched out around him--cracked with age and marred by fighting, but nostalgic in a way that made him recall sea salt--but not the coltish fumbling of the long black limbs that drew him upright. That came after. First he had to pinpoint the dimensions that defined this Axel he had become. Once he figured out where those ended, but not where they began, he could feel the leather gliding over his skin, stand against the boots that anchored his shins. Something important still lingered in his surroundings, a half-remembered meeting, but that didn't mean much when all the dim memories seemed like near revelations.
Movement drew his eye to the slow curve of light and its song, and he stared as it cleaved a path through his sight, twisting the images near it like a heat wave. "The hell?" The voice surprised him until he remembered it was his. He got no answer from the light creature or whatever it was, it just faded as lights do, but a flash of deja vu reminded him of a presence back then or right now that had whispered to him:
You do not belong, and you cannot be rescued[/b].
The thing that was Axel choked on air.
His name was the first memory that hit him, but it wasn't right. There had been something before this, the Axel that he knew he was--or wasn't--but it was gone with all the memories that told him who Axel had been. He only knew that he was alive in memory, somewhere, and that was the only way he existed now.
Sensation was a mystery at first, and sight failed him until he remembered how it worked. He could feel the ground below that stretched out around him--cracked with age and marred by fighting, but nostalgic in a way that made him recall sea salt--but not the coltish fumbling of the long black limbs that drew him upright. That came after. First he had to pinpoint the dimensions that defined this Axel he had become. Once he figured out where those ended, but not where they began, he could feel the leather gliding over his skin, stand against the boots that anchored his shins. Something important still lingered in his surroundings, a half-remembered meeting, but that didn't mean much when all the dim memories seemed like near revelations.
Movement drew his eye to the slow curve of light and its song, and he stared as it cleaved a path through his sight, twisting the images near it like a heat wave. "The hell?" The voice surprised him until he remembered it was his. He got no answer from the light creature or whatever it was, it just faded as lights do, but a flash of deja vu reminded him of a presence back then or right now that had whispered to him:
You do not belong, and you cannot be rescued[/b].