Burning daggers. Burning daggers, billions of ardent droplets pierced his lungs, immobile in the silence of water. They crushed, incised, curious combination of turbulent liquid, frozen and brought back to life by time in a warp of spirals and drowned fears and desires. His eyes were open but didn’t blink. He only stared in the dark immensity, lost in between sheets of disappeared glaze. Even curls ceased to sway as his head slowly, strenuously lolled to the side. And he saw…
Forgotten he had been, in the middle of this ocean, azure fleck among other, sombre ones. He had cried at first, writhed in terror as trails of transparent blisters ran along his legs. It had been years ago. Maybe it was only an invention of his mind, he couldn’t remember. He only knew depth and asphyxiating stillness.
At a certain point the water had start to solidify, rime forming on his now benumbed members. But never did the striking heat leave his chest. It was feeble at first, thousands of years ago. The time hadn’t come by then. It was only a bubble of warmth encircling his heart as gelid tentacles crawled along his spine. It was enough to keep him alive when he only wanted to disappear.
With time he had started to hope though, his mind hazed by dementia. But silence hadn’t ceased and again and again he had waited, pondering his thoughts in a lonesome conversation. He had amused himself about his own stupidity, his own blindness. And again he had forgotten, year after year.
At a certain point he had plunged in regretful slumber. At another he had come back, illness fading away. He was a light flickering among darkness. That’s what he had stated, lost in a resentful sleep. But again consciousness had faded and he had drifted away.
But all along, in this insane amnesia, heat had grown. One day fists clenched, a second eyes opened and froze. But never did he realise. Water had concealed his suffering and peace, mashed his resistance and swallowed his realm.
He had seen drifting figures once. He thought they were lives, his lives, his past lives, his future lives wandering away, ignoring his aching body. He had thought he wasn’t worth them and again had forgotten present. He didn’t want to endure distress.
Another day at another time at another century he had come back and had seen them again, bigger now. He also had seen light and thought it was allegiance. But allegiance was too far and again, accompanied by emerging waves he had forgotten.
It’s only as he felt movement, years after, that he understood. Warmth had grown, embraced the world and swallowed immobility. But he hadn’t moved, too feeble, too afraid. He wasn’t prepared to see life. He had drifted away, awaiting the instant the humming in his chest would cease again…
It hadn’t and time had started to elapse, taking ampler. Signs had rolled, come back, different now from then, fiercer and powerful. He had felt ice loosen its grip as heat carried faith towards the surface. But darkness had returned lead by a new era, another milliner. But he was ready.
And now immobile, holding his ancient breath, staring at the blurred surface, he thought clearly. He thought about time, about possibilities, about desires and wishes. But he still didn’t know future. He had had years though, thousands, millions of forgotten years to understand. But he didn’t know only experienced.
He smiled as a raven form briskly appeared. He could distinguish light from dark now. Light had been everywhere, he only hadn’t seen it as it blended and formed a unique colour. He didn’t know everything though and still didn’t grasp movement.
He saw curls drawn in the bright night but it seemed normal. He hadn’t seen anything else for centuries. They hadn’t moved he stated once, only evolved. But now with darkness tracing a quivering trace over his body he wasn’t sure. “Maybe…” he murmured and a bubble slid from his lips, slipping towards the surface lazily.
He had thought once that no action –whatever that meant- lead to another, that nothing could ensue an act. His disappearance hadn’t lead to researches so why should the rest follow his course? Life hadn’t moved here.
The bubble reached the surface, exploding indolently. He saw the shape move, tremble. “What are you doing?” He whispered, heat burning his chest. He hadn’t felt it before, had thought cold had transformed into fire and light into darkness. His world had been shaken upside down, losing sense and transforming. This could also happen here.
Another bubble slowly rose. He hadn’t seen any other before those two. Or maybe he did? He thought that only spirals existed and maybe those square-like diamonds that had disappeared at the very beginning. He wanted to see more.
He opened his mouth and saw a bigger one, saw life lift its weight towards the now again motionless form. He saw it shatter in millions of particles as he sank a little lower, a little deeper in light. And he heard the breaking of the surface.
It was rapid, too rapid for his mind to realise. Only a glimpse scattered by his thoughts as he felt similar heath embrace his drowning form. He could feel pulls and pinches, could feel water press his sides and disappear, could feel blades be replaced by sharper ones, could feel air enter his lungs and cough silence away.
He saw streaming beams and blankness and in front of him, shadow in person, traversed by pools of crimson. He heard, saw, sensed, drowned again in a much more forceful oblivion, came back, realised. He could feel twitches run along his hands –he had hands, he didn’t know, never knew he had a body. He hadn’t grasped it-. He felt life ache in his body as darkness moved for an instant. Again a sound, different, broke apart silent understanding.
A voice and a name, in fact two names. He didn’t know which was his –Shadow? Sonic? - He only felt wind, his realm. He smiled again for the second time in billions of years. He didn’t know everything, hadn’t understood life and death and silence and noise, immobility and motion and so many other things. He was oblivious to everything. He hadn’t realised how important life was, only the instant. He still had so much to learn, learn again. But now he could see him, hear him, feel him again.
And that, he thought a last time, emerald crossing scarlet, was worth this wait.