Conscious, Conscientious

The black blur that was Najinzu’s knife came straight for Lammy’s shoulder. He didn’t even have a split moment to process it.

Then a harsh scream—the piercing sound of metal against metal—overloaded Lammy’s ears.

Just before his eyes, another slightly lighter blade manifested and caught the attack firmly in place. Lammy could feel the wind from the weapon’s sudden movement against his face.

His whole body went numb, so he turned his eyes.

Raznizu stood just before Lammy, stretched so wide in a way that seemed to defy balance. Despite the rushed rescue, he wasn’t gasping for breath. His eyes weren’t wide. He was simply attentive.

“I thought you weren’t to kill these two,” his low voice rumbled, eyes on the competing blades.

Finally, Lammy’s mind processed Najinzu crouching before him, failing to force his knife past Raznizu’s. The two brothers towered over him and Zayza,

“Who said my intent was to kill?” Najinzu sneered. “You swore you could keep me from touching Zayza and the boy even once. Now I’ve proven you wrong—and I figured I’d go for two.”

The stinging Lammy felt in the Dream World returned. There was a thin, shallow red cut on his forearm—the one he held up to keep a hand on Zayza. A similar cut slightly severed the sleeve on Zayza’s shoulder, but it seemed just as minor. She continued to sit up entranced and focused, her mind in the Dream World.

“Your competitive nature is an obstruction to your goal,” Raznizu observed, managing to shove Najinzu’s knife away.

Najinzu slid back rapidly, whipping out more knives from seemingly thin air and wielding them between his fingers.

“There’s always time to impress big brother,” he argued. “Consider that a warning. You cannot win this fight—inevitably, they will both end up in my grasp. Yield.”

He abruptly pounced and rolled out of the way, and at first Lammy couldn’t figure out why. Then he spotted Raznizu’s throwing knives—the same he’d used to try and capture them—stuck in the earth exactly where Najinzu had just stood.

The two launched into another bout of their lightning-fast faceoff. Again, Lammy couldn’t keep pace with their speed. The flickering and flashing of Raznizu’s lightning barrier around them only made following their movements more disorienting. At random, they would meet for a blink and their knives would collide, only to do so again at the opposite end of the magical fence.

Eventually, Lammy had to shield his eyes from the flashes.

It’s gotta be their Sense-Enhancer powers, he decided. That must be how they keep pinpointing each other’s locations. So whoever has the sharper powers, also has the upper hand.

The clanks came close again for an instant, so Lammy reopened his eyes. But the combatants shifted away as fast as they came. He eyed Zayza, his hand still on her shoulder.

I promised her, he thought.

But how was he supposed to protect her, when he couldn’t see any attacks coming in time? As it stood now, he was just as capable to defend her from their real-world dangers as she was.

Zayza’s upright posture and calm face were a dramatic contrast to everything around her. But for an instant, Lammy noticed her eyebrows furrow twitchingly.

What had transpired in her duel with Fewpar since he left the Dream World? His mind could only muster the worst possible scenarios.

A thump resounded before him, and Lammy turned to find Raznizu slide to a stop with his back against the dirt. He immediately rolled to his feet, and when he hopped back into the air, he only barely missed Najinzu’s incoming blade. With a deadly gleam, Najinzu reclaimed the weapon and continued his pursuit: Raznizu had fallen on the defense.

There has to be something I can do to support him…Lammy thought, heart thumping. But what?

~

“There’s nothing you can do! You’re merely putting off the inevitable!!” Fewpar shouted.

His blue energy struggled as it forced itself against Zayza’s resisting green light. Their hands pressed against each other, desperately attempting to shove the other back.

Eventually, an explosion burst out between them, and both Dreamers were thrown back, spiraling into the many hills.

Zayza caught herself and stood, but Fewpar blinked into the space just before her face.

“Escape the Dream World, and you’ll find no reprieve,” he teased.

Zayza shot a green blast, but Fewpar flashed away again.

“Remain here and face me, but you’ll never be able to boot me out,” he continued, now directly behind her.

Zayza spun, glittering light appearing around her arm as she swung an elbow. But again, it was a miss—Fewpar was gone again.

“ABOVE!!” his voice declared from the sky.

Zayza summoned an energy shield just in time—a ferocious blast rained down and pressed against her. The force pushed her to her knees as she held the green light above her, until it caved with a pop. But Fewpar’s blast had nearly reached its end, and it only partially met its target. Zayza let out a grunt as the power slammed her against the green and blue grass.

“Telling me exactly where you’re ambushing from? Sloppy,” she admonished, dusting off her dress as she stood once more.

“Oh? How exactly does your amnesia work, anyway? You seem to remember Dreamer Combat after I pummeled you, but you still don’t recall your life?” Fewpar pointed out. “That seems terribly…convenient!”

He fired another blast, but Zayza sidestepped it.

“I removed my own memories,” she explained. “And I don’t want those back…yet.”

“Yet…?” Fewpar repeated, the word sour in his mouth. “Yet? What is this? We may be Dreamers, but we’re just like everyone else: we don’t get to choose when we face our trauma, Zayza. It just happens. And as it turns out, you were mine.”

Zayza charged more energy into her hands and arms warily.

“Enough of this game,” Fewpar decided, his face wrinkling up. “It’s time for your trauma. It’s time you meet the monster you really are.”

He lowered from above, slow and ominous, allowing plenty of distance from Zayza. Then, he stopped just above the grass, straightened his fingers, and raised them near his temples.

“You should recall by now: it’s traditional conduct for Dreamers to hide their most powerful techniques until deep in the duel,” he said, his eyes on hers unblinkingly. “I’ve finally mastered it—specifically for you, princess.”

Fewpar’s fingers touched his temples lightly. His eyes glowed blue.

“Nightmare,” he uttered.

A shiver shot through Zayza’s whole body. Only days ago, she’d remembered exactly what this was: the ultimate technique—a Dreamer’s forbidden, heightened form.

She watched on with frightful knowingness as the Dream World landscape around them transformed. The grassy hills vanished, replaced with a flat, endless dark surface. She recognized the phenomenon as the sky shifted colors rapidly, clouds pulling away as the day reversed to morning, then night, and cycled increasingly until it blackened to a starry midnight. The void floor underneath her blinked blue when she took a wary step back.

Fewpar’s feet finally touched down, the floor twinkling underneath him as well, like small splashes of water. His eyes shone a blistering blue.

“Welcome to my hell,” he practically whispered.

Zayza called upon more energy and ignited it around her body, but she knew it would be of little use.

“You’re in my dominion now,” Fewpar sneered. “You know that, don’t you? There’s no escaping to the real world while Nightmare is active. This only ends when I’m through with you.”

Zayza said nothing, but she knew he was right. Her only options were to fight, or endure it.

Fewpar’s face contorted, and Zayza couldn’t tell if he formed a disgusted frown or smirk.

“It’s time at last, Zayza,” he declared, “to remember who you truly are: a heartless murderer.”

All across the sky high above, small orbs of light began fading into existence. They were the same royal blue as Fewpar’s Dream World clothes.

Memory orbs, Zayza noted.

Gradually, more appeared lower in the air, reaching hundreds as they began surrounding Zayza and Fewpar. Zayza stayed firmly in place: she knew any wrong movement could bring unbearable pain.

Then, the memory orbs all glowed increasingly brighter, and airy notes sung from each of them. Their eerie, droning songs carried out louder and louder across the Dream World until Zayza didn’t think she could bear it any longer.

But she could still hear Fewpar’s voice clearly:

“HEARTLESS!!!” he screamed.

Alarmingly fast, one of the nearby orbs above them grew twenty times larger. It jolted forward without warning, and crashed directly into Zayza.

All her senses vanished for a moment.

Or rather, they were replaced.

In a haze, she could see two of herself sitting at what seemed to be a massive dinner table.

No…there was only one of her. The other was a different young woman. She had the same fair complexion, same exact small mouth and curve in her nose, and dressed in an almost identical adorned dress—only Zayza’s was green, and this woman’s blue.

But Zayza quickly noticed her distinct features: this woman’s hair, though similar in length and style, was a deeper brown. Her eyes were a bit narrower, and dressed in an intense black makeup that accentuated their deep blue color, and her face, which was just a bit wider, was stern and hard—contrasting Zayza’s naturally calm demeanor beside her. It featured two black freckles mirroring each other on each cheek.

Despite her seemingly instinctive anger, and even partially because of it, she was beautiful. Zayza even felt a hint of envy.

The Zayza in the vision glanced ahead for an instant, looking into the present Zayza’s eyes, and then turned to whisper something in the woman’s ear. The woman faced her quickly, and her elegant eyebrows lowered as she smiled—forming a mischievous expression that was intimidating as it was inviting.

Zayza felt a warm, melting sensation within—but she knew it wasn’t her own.

The woman whispered something back, but everything went foggy.

Zayza gasped as she jumped back to her true surroundings. She lay on the empty black ground of Fewpar’s nightmare, pain spiking all over. Judging by the receding splash of light underneath her, it had only been a second since the orb struck her.

“Anything to say?” called Fewpar.

Zayza stood slowly, her legs shaking. She kept silent as she summoned more green energy.

Fewpar’s face twitched. “Not enough, then? Very well.”

Another orb blew up in size above him, and raced her way. But Zayza was more prepared this time: she shot energy out of her feet and thrust herself out of harm’s way.

Clearly, Fewpar was far from impressed or surprised. Another orb instantly followed suit, and this one met its target.

Zayza’s mind shifted against her will once more.

This time, she stood in a crowd inside an elaborate stone hall. Chandeliers hung high above, and flags with insignias were draped evenly along the towering walls.

At the end of the ballroom rested a brilliant red-carpeted stage. In the very center, standing behind a golden podium, stood the same young woman as before. She spoke to the crowd with authority—not a single attendee’s attention wavered. Zayza’s sight seemed to nod in vigorous agreement, as if someone else were in control of it.

Then it peered off to the side of the stage, where several individuals were seated in massive golden chairs. The countless people obstructed her view of the occupants, but her eyes still caught that one chair was empty. She glanced over, and stopped at the shady corner of the room, just beside the stage.

Zayza’s past self leaned against the wall there, and while she was just as transfixed on the young woman as the rest of the audience, she glared on with clear indignation, arms crossed. Then swiftly, to the confusion of everyone around, she turned her back to the stage and hurried off, vanishing into the crowd.

“Seem familiar?”

Fewpar’s dark domain returned to Zayza’s senses. The same pain coursed through her like a crushing weight as she forced herself up to her hands and knees. Raising her head, she found Fewpar still standing in the same position, his luminous eyes unblinking.

“Stop this,” she forced out. “I don’t understand what you’re showing me.”

“Oh, you don’t understand? Or you don’t want to?” shot Fewpar. “Who was that in my memories, hm?”

Zayza was wordless.

Fewpar flashed blue energy into his arm and threw it viciously at her. The explosion forced her back with a shout.

“Hm? Who was that, Zayza?” he repeated. “I want to hear you say it.”

She sat up laboriously, but had to stop to catch her breath.

“Say it.”

“I…I don’t know,” Zayza admitted slowly. “I—”

“HOW COULD YOU FORGET HER?!?!” Fewpar roared, his chin quivering after. “Killing her wasn’t enough—no, you had to wipe your memory of her existence entirely?! She was your elder sister!! And you took her life, and now convince yourself she never existed?!”

“Please…I don’t—” Zayza tried.

“You killed Vayva!! My sweet Vayva! You took her from me forever!!”

Zayza couldn’t tell if the memory orbs were under his control anymore. Several of them amplified and came for her at an inevitable pace. She braced herself.

Several blue lights flashed in her vision.

This time, the visions came rapidly. First, Zayza stood only inches from the woman—from Vayva—in a courtyard garden. Vayva confidently took Zayza’s hand into her own. No, it was Fewpar’s hand—all of this was through his senses.

The princess’s face was radiant, her voice pointed, as she went on about their future together.

Then instantly, it was nighttime. They stood together in the rain, in nearly the same place.

Now, Vayva’s voice was low. She looked around warily as she disclosed her secret apprehensions, her eyes tired and her face sunken—full of utter heartache.

Zayza felt the worry in Fewpar’s heart like it was her own.

Another blue flash.

Zayza watched on through Fewpar’s eyes as he walked down a hall. He stopped short at a room with a cracked open, heavy door. Shouts echoed from within.

He peaked through the crack. Zayza and Vayva stood squaring off, both of their faces red as they argued furiously. Zayza had never seen herself so livid.

But something about Vayva was different—her words were precise and persistent, but her presence…it lacked the charisma from before, replaced with nervous, urgent protectiveness. She was a small animal backed into a corner, and Zayza was the provoker.

Fewpar’s hand lifted to shove open the door, but the memory faded.

Now, Zayza saw a quiet room. A bedroom.

It was early morning, and Fewpar was stepping in to awaken his overworked, oversleeping love. Vayva lay still on her bed.

Too still.

And gray.

Zayza felt Fewpar’s heart pound and everything within him sink as he ran desperately to her side, trying to shake Vayva awake.

But his queen was dead.

“NOW DO YOU REMEMBER?!?!” came Fewpar’s voice from Zayza’s true setting.

He must have begun pounding her with countless more memory blasts, because they flashed into her senses overwhelmingly. Her mind felt invaded—infected with Fewpar’s most broken emotions.

She saw him race into another bedroom panicking, only to find it empty and the green window left wide open.

She saw soldiers flood the halls and quarters, magically-lit swords at the ready.

Chaos erupted in her head, and she couldn’t escape.

Then abruptly, it slowed.

Now she could see a man. He appeared restrained to a pole in a dark, windowless room. Fewpar stood beside Najinzu and Raznizu, and several other individuals surrounded him.

The man’s face was chiseled and strong, yet tender. His short black beard only slightly succeeded at concealing his youth. Fire from a nearby torch reflected in his wide brown eyes, which shifted endlessly between the clamoring men and women.

Zayza recognized him immediately: it was Oflenur.

But she felt no affection for her secret lover in this memory—she only felt Fewpar’s mind. And it was full of pain, loss, and hate.

Reluctantly, Oflenur opened his mouth to speak. The people around him hushed immediately.

His words came loud and clear:

“It was ZAYZA!! It was her plan! She killed them all!”

“ENOUGH!!!!” Zayza screamed.

Through sheer willpower, she forced herself back to her own body, crouched with her face on the floor and writhing in a throbbing pain.

“It can’t be…” she gasped. “Please, just make it stop…”

“Now, at last, we’re where I want us to be.”

Fewpar’s tone was empty and cold, much like his voice when he first captured her in No Man’s Land.

Zayza raised her head, but it was all she could manage now. She expected to meet his heartless gaze.

Instead, she found tears.

Glowing blue streaks ran down Fewpar’s face. He gritted his teeth as he cried.

“You took my love from me. You’ve tortured me all this time,” he pressed. “So I’ll continue this for as long as I please. You want it to stop? You know what you’ll have to do.”

Zayza knew indeed. There was only one way.

I’d have to activate Nightmare, she thought.

As the realization set in, she knew either way, it was all over. Fewpar won.

I can’t awaken it unless I know my whole self, she remembered. I’ll need…to accept the rest of my memories.

With Fewpar’s orbs of light floating over her in the infinite midnight sky, and as his tearful eyes stared into her with pure hate, Zayza pondered her ultimate plight. If she did nothing, she was trapped here, living out his traumas until he was satisfied—which was likely never.

And Lammy would be stuck alone out there, tasked with defending her vulnerable body.

There was only one choice left to make.

It’s time, she decided. Time to remember.

Everything.