Echoes of Ceotir

It wasn’t that his dream was vivid as there was next to nothing there. Darkness surrounded him, a black void of nothing that he walked through, drawn to a tiny light in the distance. The same green candle-like light he had seen in the sanctuary was calling him, swaying to its own rhythm and urging him to come.

His footsteps made no sound and when he looked down there was no trace of his body. It was as though his mind was floating within the abyss, moving towards the light without need for his physical form. But there was something to his footsteps that he felt were there but weren't. The pace and pattern of his movement was the same as the resonating pulse of the walls of the structure, the heartbeat of the building.

He couldn’t be sure how long he’d been walking as with all dreams, time was hard to judge. But it was long enough for him to experience the sense of movement, the sense that he’d travel as far as necessary to reach the light in the distance.

“Finlay.”

It was his father’s voice but when he turned it wasn’t the man he had seen the day before but the man from nine years ago. The abyss around him changed, filled with colours and structures that appeared as though a mist had cleared to reveal the memory of the boat he had escaped on. His father was standing before him, hand on his shoulder as screams and gunfire surrounded him.

In that instance, he was back again experiencing the worst night of his life but he knew it was a dream and there was one difference, the bright green light that had guided him was still there. It broke through the darkness like a beacon and as he turned to it he could feel the world becoming safe again as the screams and gunfire disappeared.

But then another sound caught his attention, it wasn't a scream or even a sound from that night but the shriek of the guardians that attacked him. He turned expecting to see the terrible creature with its wings spread wide but instead, he saw his sister. She was facing him, looking directly at him with a smile as wide as he could ever remember her having. He reached a hand that wasn’t there and called out to her but rather than respond she turned away from him and skipped to the edge of the boat.

This time there were no demons to take her away but alone she skipped into the sky and left the boat and him behind. She didn’t fall to the water below but continued to dance through the air as though following an invisible path. He ran after her, his body that he couldn’t see felt slow but steady and when he reached the railing—he jumped.

She was winding her way through the sky as the boat and terrors below faded away. He didn't fall but couldn't fly, so he chased her with the slow forced pace that could not catch her. She was moving towards the tiny green light, skipping and dancing through the abyss as he struggled to keep up.

She was laughing; the sound echoed around him, a child filled with playful glee and while he shouted and called to her, his words were silent and without recognition. It continued like this for so long he was starting to wonder if it would ever end and if he’d ever wake from this dream.

As that understanding came to him, the realisation that he was conscious within a dream; he decided to try and turn away, to stop chasing his sister and force himself awake. But nothing worked and whenever he stopped there was an overwhelming pressure that compelled him to go on.

He was conscious but only a silent observer without any real control and while strange and uncomfortable he knew it was only a dream. For the first time, the flame grew bigger—bigger than it had been in reality, it continued to grow in size and shape until it was a wall that engulfed his entire view.

He turned away, looking around himself, and as he did, realised the wall of green flame had circled him and he was now floating inside a sphere of light. He looked for his sister again but she had disappeared. He could still hear the echo of her laughter dancing around him as though she were there but he could not see where she had gone.

He tried to find her, calling out to her, but as before no sound escaped and he could see nothing but the bright green fire in front of him. There was another sound, the resonating beat that had timed itself with his footsteps. The heart of the structure, the life of the tower built within the fire around him and soon it was louder than the laughter and continued to grow.

The sound engulfed him in a way that made him feel small and insignificant. It pulsed, ever-present but shifting between a quiet drone to a noise loud enough that it was overwhelming.

He was panicking, there was something off about the noise, about the wall of flame and the presence that surrounded him. He had lost his sister and was alone in this strange place that weighed down on his body so much he wanted to scream. The panic continued; he tried to fight it, covered his face with hands that weren’t there, and closed his eyes but nothing changed.

Then it stopped and there was silence—no beating drum of a building’s heart, no blazing fire that surrounded him, it was quiet and peaceful. But he wasn’t lying on the makeshift bed he had made, he wasn’t in the room with Keira on the table. He was standing in the tunnel, standing in front of the wall of black stone that held behind it the sanctuary and the flame.

His mind reeled; how had he gotten here, he had never walked in his sleep before and more importantly, he had found his way back to this place. Was it the spirit in the sanctuary, did it somehow force him here as it had done when he was inside? It had only done that so they could talk and it said it only could do that because of the sanctuary. Was it lying?

He wondered if anyone had noticed, he even questioned if he was still dreaming. He had no idea how long he’d been asleep or how long it took him to get here. It had even been possible someone had tried to speak to him, perhaps even tried to stop him and yet here he was and he didn’t know what to do.

He considered going back but he wanted to know why and how he got here. Was the spirit in danger, was there a reason he had to return now or was the sanctuary calling him for another reason altogether? His father was back there and had told him not to take risks but all that meant was that there was no other escape from the guardians, or the miners would have left by now. The sanctuary, the spirit, they were his best chance of escape, all of their best chance to escape.

Don’t go in there—leave.

The thought came out of nowhere, as it had done inside the sanctuary and before then with the guardians. Was it fear—he couldn’t be sure, but it was definitely his own. There was no sense of manipulation or compulsion, he had come to understand how that felt from the spirit so was confident it belonged to him. But he didn’t understand it, he didn’t know where it came from with such urgency, such certainty to not engage further.

He sat down and looked at the wall, the shimmer of green inviting but that part of his mind was holding him back, telling him to run instead. There was another pressure, a calling, a yearning for him to go forward and he knew the spirit or the sanctuary wanted him to come to the wall once more.

It was just fear, he thought, a moment of hesitation and worry because all of this was strange and Keira and his father had been so suspicious. But this was the only way forward, the only chance they had—he was sure of that. The spirit and the sanctuary, he had created a connection with both of them and they were the key to escaping the guardians. He braced himself, told himself it would be okay and without another thought to the contrary, stepped forward and placed his hand on the wall.

Just as before, he felt that strange sensation of falling and just as before he found himself returning in the snap of consciousness to the sanctuary. Though he didn’t feel the same calming, the same sense of desire to walk to the flame and place his hand in it, instead there was another feeling. The miasma was here.

There had been the dull sensation of the miasma within the mine, as it was before he reached the station, it was ever-present but not significant enough that he couldn’t function. Yet previously in the sanctuary, there had been relief, a peaceful bliss of normalcy without its presence, but now he could feel it even stronger than he had outside.

He walked to the flame through his own intention, not compelled by the spirit. He had been looking up to see if the birds had come inside and if he might find the shadow of the creatures looming over him again. But as he reached the tiny flame there had been no sound or sight of them, only the presence of the miasma told him they were near.

“You called me here, didn't you—because of the miasma?”

“Yes.”

He had almost gotten used to the strange sensation of the spirit using his body to speak for it. The utterance of words from his mouth which he didn’t know were coming was strange, but after having a conversation with himself that wasn’t himself before, he was better prepared for it. Even then it was still uncomfortable to know that something else was controlling his body and mind in ways he couldn’t understand.

“I thought you could only do that inside the sanctuary, how did you reach me out there?”

“It is complicated, though we have a connection now and the sanctuary helped.”

“That’s not much of an explanation.”

“We do not have a lot of time, but in essence, people are more compliant when they are not awake.”

He considered the spirit for a moment; it had essentially forced him to come here, controlled his body without him even being awake to know what was happening. It had made him dream of his sister and the time he lost her—he didn’t like that, even if it was an emergency.

“Why did you do this, why did you make me see my sister?”

“As you have already concluded, there is a breach in the sanctuary, the corruption is here and soon it will affect me in ways that I do not know.”

“And my sister?”

“I cannot control what you saw in the state you were in, only to suggest you come here.”

“Then why did I see her, was it just a dream or something you did?”

“The connection between us may have triggered something deep within your memories.”

“But there was nothing new there, nothing I don’t remember.”

“There may be more to your past than you realise, more to the story of your sister than you know—If you help me now, I might be able to help you find out the truth.”

More to the story, what more could there be? He was there, he knew what he saw, what he experienced and there was no reason to doubt any of it. The demons had come, they attacked, killed many and took his sister. Took her where, but why did they take her, everyone else was injured or worse but they took her away. Of course, he had thought about it before but the conclusion was always the same—she was dead, she was gone, whether on the boat or not she couldn’t have survived. But now this spirit was talking as if there could be more, something else going on.

“We are running out of time.”

There was an urgency in the intention; he could feel the pressure building inside him, the need to move, a frustration that wasn’t shifting and once more he felt compelled to listen. The spirit wanted him to take it with him and leave this place. He could feel the miasma, he understood the urgency but there was something else to it, a discomfort that wasn’t there before. When he had spoken with the spirit the last time he was here it seemed unconcerned over what would happen to it—it reassured him that any decision was his choice. But now there was an added pressure and in the back of his mind, he could hear Keira’s voice telling him not to trust it.

“There is a wealth of knowledge that you do not have access to; if your sister is alive, I am your best chance of finding her.”

“Alive… you said there might be more to what happened that night, now you’re trying to tell me she could be alive?”

“It is possible. You have a connection with the spirit world; as might your sister, and that might explain the unusualness of her disappearance.”

He hesitated, he was feeling frustrated. The spirit had brought him here, let him feel the miasma and urged him to act. Before he believed the idea to help the spirit was his own, but now he was no longer sure. The way it spoke, the things it was saying, the pressure he felt on him—they were all manipulations to try and convince him to join with it.

“You’re lying.”

Silence met his response which only reassured him that the spirit was telling him what he wanted to hear. It had become desperate because of the miasma and now it was doing whatever it could to convince him to let it anchor itself to him. It showed him his sister and told him she might be alive, it was manipulating him, Keira was right.

“I don't trust you, it's all too much. I'm sorry but I have to leave."

He pulled his hand from the flame intending to end the conversation and leave this place behind, but as soon as he had stepped backwards there was a shriek from above. The terrible high-pitched noise that signalled at least one of the guardians, the bird that attacked him had made its way here.

He ran from the pedestal to the wall he had found himself beside and once again pressed his hands to the surface. He urged the sanctuary to let him out, to take him back to the tunnel he came from as it had done before. But it was silent to wishes, it did not respond and when he stepped back and tried again he realised that as he pressed his hands to the walls the green shimmer that had pulsed before was absent. It no longer responded to his touch and rather than the warm heartbeat, it felt cold as the stone outside it.

“No.”

He couldn’t help uttering the words as another shriek from above echoed throughout the now unresponsive chamber. He tried again and again until he was beating his hands against the wall and screaming for it to let him go. But nothing came and in that moment of despair he felt the gentle pull of the candle-like flame once again.

The miasma had increased, it was weighing him down, the force becoming overwhelming with each new shriek from above and he had no idea if the creature could even reach him. But he had little choice and walked back to the pedestal and back to the flame to place his hand within it.

“You can leave at any time—you need only to ask.”