Enter the place in which we fall...
By C. Tattiana H-H


I am small.

I am small not because I think I am small, and I am small not because I feel that I am small. I am small because I have come to place where all have come to. I have come to the place where all will come to. I have come to the place where I am now and I have entered through a place that is like a place in which we fall.

My body buzzes with magic. No, not magic. Energy. I feel the energy surround me. Radiate from me. Seep into me. My body buzzes and vibrates with energy.

I am light. I am light because I am that way. Because I am truly that way.

I feel warm. No, not warm. There is no temperature and there is no light. There is no size, no form, no sound.

No sound. I wonder for a moment if I have gone deaf, and then quickly wonder what it sounds like to be deaf. No, I am not deaf and this is not silence. There is no sound.

I snap back.

I am running. Running hard and fast, the cold air tearing at my lungs. Lungs that scream for me to stop. The lungs that threaten to shut down if I do not stop. Lungs that I can feel being shredded like tiny bits of cloth.

The tearing sound of the fragments of my lungs being pulled apart hurt me. I taste the blood rise up my throat and I cough.

Sweat trickles down into my eyes and burns them. Everything burns.

My lungs. My eyes. My muscles.

I can feel my muscles tear apart, as well. Everything is being torn from me. Everything is torn.

I hear a sound behind me and I turn. I turn and I fall. My head hits a rock as my body falls hard. I hear a loud crack and my vision blurs.

I snap back.

I am light. I am radiating light. No, I am the light.

I am energy. I pulsate. I beat like a heart. I hum and hiss and buzz and I am small.

I snap back.

I am looking up into the eyes of the sea. The deep blue irises washing over me, calming me, calling me. They tell me to get up. Get up and keep running. They are coming.

I snap back.

I am small.

I snap back.

I am running again.

He is beside me now and he keeps turning to look behind us. A gasp escapes him and we fall into water.

I snap back.

I am warm. I am washing away. I am a current.

I snap back.

I am sliding. I am slipping and gasping for air. My lungs fill with water and the water washes away the bleeding fragments of my torn lungs.

He pulls me. Pulls my arm so hard it feels as if it might rip out of its socket.

We are gasping. Tangled together in a heap. Two bodies moving up and down. Up and down as we gasp for air. Our chests rising and falling in unison. Our lungs both crying for us to stop.

I turn on my side and look over at him. Into his eyes as deep as the sea.

I see fear there.

He holds a finger up to his dry, cracked lips to tell me to be quiet. I blink and I snap back.

I snap back again and he is crouched beside me trying to hide behind the tall weeds.

He is scared. I feel him try to rein it back in. Try to pull his fear close to him and keep him warm. He is afraid that they might sense it.

They.

I ask him who they are and he silences me.

We hear footsteps. No, footfalls. Marching. Coming closer. The sound of leaves crumbling and twigs snapping echoes as loud as thunder.

He looks over at me, his fear now all-consuming.

I must be small. I am small. I must be small.

I see his eyes open wide in fear as he looks at me.

Stop it. He says.

Stop what. I ask.

They will sense you. They will sense your magic.

What magic? I ask him. I am energy. I am light.

He looks terrified now. He is slowly inching away from me.

I am small.

His eyes become larger and I can see myself reflected in them.

I can see his fear and my desire fighting each other in the sea of his eyes.

Splashing and swirling they try to drown the other one. Try to snuff the other one out.

We must be small. I tell him.

Stop it. He says.

We must be small.

His head jerks to the left as we hear the footsteps right next to us.

He screams. He screams bloody murder and my ears cannot take it.

I snap back.

I snap back again.

He is still screaming.

He is silenced by a blade sliding across his throat.

Now all I can hear is the rush of blood. A river of crimson falling onto the trampled terrain and trickling into the tributary.

They cannot see me. I am small.

They look around and mumble to one another.

I am small. I snap back.

I am small because I am in his presence. I am small because I am truly that way.

No words. No sound. No form.

I snap back.

The men are gone. The only thing that remains is the dead boy and the river of blood.

I look down at myself. I am small.

I stand and look around, my head suddenly becoming light.

I sit down again.

I snap back and am small.

He smiles at me. Or at least I think he smiles. I can feel a warmth rising from him.

No, not warmth. Energy.

His energy crawls towards me. It slithers and hisses. It snaps and stops in front of me and I am small.

Smaller than before.

I look up into his eyes. No, not eyes. Slits.

He says he is made of smokeless fire.

I laugh. Or at least think I do. There is no sound. No form.

He nods at me and I snap back.

I am running again.

This time I stop and look around.

I wonder what I am running from.

I look down at myself and see blood all over me.

Blood all over my arms, on my legs, in my hair. Dried blood on my lips. I can even taste blood in my mouth.

I sniff the air and smell my magic.

It is hungry. It is desperate for more.

More of what? I ask it.

More. It answers. More. More. More.

I hear someone behind me and turn around.

My name riding the wind to my ears. Gently. Softly. Quietly.

It blends with my magic's chant, and its desire and my name become one.

More... Mor...

Moira. He calls to me.

It is the boy again; his eyes like the sea.

He tells me to keep going. He tells me to keep moving.

I tell him that he is small. That he must be small.

That he must go to the place where I am. To the place where we all are and he must enter through the place that is like a place in which we fall.

He looks at me with those fathomless irises of the deepest blue and he understands.

He is small. He snaps back.