A Note From the Author...

Hello friends and fellow writers. My postings have slowed of late. For that I apologize. I've been pushing through a few mental blocks that have kept the flow from, well, flowing. Everyone at the Fiction Workshop have been wonderful at helping me order my thoughts and just make my work better. I'd like to thank a few people in particular for paying special attention to this chapter: @carolkean, @thinknzombie, @bex-dk, @geke, and of course @rhondak for bringing us all together at the workshop.

Have a wonderful weekend everyone! Cheers!

Oh, I've had a few people ask where the earlier chapters of my work are located. I have links to all the previous chapters at the bottom of my postings. The earlier chapters do not have links to the later ones due to the 7-day editing limit. I added links in the comment section of those respective chapters for a little added convenience.

A World Long Sundered -- Chapter 9

“Are you saying she killed my sister?”

Riggs tilted his head skyward. At first glance, the storm still battled overhead. Then without knowing how he communicated with his captors, he willed the scene to halt—and it did. Everything ceased. Riggs reached out and let his hand pass through the raindrops that were suspended in place. The water clung to his skin, animated by his touch, condensed and fell from his hand only to return to its motionless state. His captors had halted the scene just as lightning divided the sky above. An overabundance of its brilliant light illuminated the four figures below.

A few steps away, his kneeling mother cradled both her unconscious children, her face frozen in that instant of confusion where grief had transformed to joy. The nymph-child stood across from them. Her head cocked to the side slightly, pale eyebrows bunched together and lips pressed tightly into a line. She looked deep in thought, and displeased with what she found there. Lashing blue tresses and a flowing diaphanous gown provided the only proof of the wind’s earlier presence.

“Yes.” The voices within his mind paused. “But only momentarily.”

Momentarily? Riggs’ eyes darted back to his younger self. The boy had collapsed; whatever fey energies that had sustained him and revived his sister had vanished.

The bugs were creating a lot more questions alongside whatever answers they offered. No surprises there. He should have been shocked by what he had seen, but looking upon himself only filled him with a cold acceptance. Seeing the blazing verdant force erupt within the boy had felt more like a long forgotten, yet familiar, dream.

He sighed.The worst nightmares always start off as the best dreams. Which one is this—dream or nightmare? If they’re lying, would I know? He walked over to his younger self. Sitting on his heels, he put a hand between the boy’s shoulders. He closed his eyes a moment. Your childhood ended far too quickly.

“We have little time for sentimentality, Riggs. Ask your questions.”

Riggs’ face twitched and cocked to the side as the force of his captor’s voice echoed throughout his head. Opening his eyes again, he found the peaceful face of his sleeping sister. Regret filled him; he averted his gaze and quickly stood.

“How is this all possible? Are you saying the nymph possessed me all those years ago?”

”Possession is not an accurate description. It implies that you had no control over the forces involved. This is not true.”

Riggs’ shoulders stooped. Closing his eyes for the brightness, he turned his face towards the frozen lightning above. He was too tired to argue with them.

“Perhaps you would like to explain what I just saw then, rather than me wasting time by guessing?” His weariness only accentuated the acid in his tone.

“We do not know as much as we would like. Much of what we do know comes from our experience with you, Riggs. Our research is incomplete. A few things are clear, though. Your contact with the nymph creature either bestowed or awakened your connection to the Anomaly.”

“Anomaly?” Good gods, would they ever speak plainly?

“We do not possess enough information to accurately define the Anomaly. The ancients of this world referred to it as ‘the Nexus.’ It is a force unique to the world you call Sapphyre and was once accessible to a small portion of its population. The term was nearly forgotten, for whatever force that powers the Anomaly deteriorated significantly by the time you came in contact with it. In simplistic terms, the people during your childhood likely referred to it as magic.”

The Nexus—magic? He’d heard the word in Sylva’s mind as well. He’d been there, during her expulsion from the R’leigh Bo and her descent into rage. He’d felt it as she did, her rampant confusion and bitter rage fueled by feelings of abandonment. She had been a storm, in more ways than one. However, this was the first time that the bugs had shown him the mind of another, not just as some invisible spectator. That still didn’t make any sense at all.

“How is it I heard the same thing in Sylva’s mind?”

“The memory of the R’leigh Bo spans thousands of years, Riggs. It is likely the Mother Nymph passed certain knowledge to her child. Few others would be capable of passing along such generational knowledge.”

With no attempt to conceal his sigh, Riggs opened his eyes again, finally turning to the nymph-child. “That’s not what I mean. How is it you are able to show me what was inside Sylva’s mind? This is not a memory you could have recreated from my own.” He swept his hand around him as he stepped closer to the nymph, her violet eyes catching his attention. They reflected the lightning above with magenta ferocity.

His captors deliberated in his mind. “We are unsure how to answer that question without risking your anger, Riggs. In your weakened state, it may not be prudent to continue this path of conversation.”

Was that why they were being so uncharacteristically cooperative? Afraid he was going to die before he accomplished whatever manipulative purpose they had for him?

“You’re afraid I’m gonna keel over? Should’ve thought about that before ripping my mind apart and shoving me into a glass bottle. Ever think that maybe keeping the truth from me might not be the best way to keep me calm?” He tried to sound angrier than he felt, but something in the girl’s eyes, in Sylva’s eyes, seemed to placate him. He attempted to brush a lock of hair out of her eyes. He felt nothing as his fingers passed through her hair. Jerking back his hand slightly, he gathered courage and attempted to grab her shoulder. His hand passed entirely through her form.

Again, the voices hummed in his head before answering, “She is not here physically, Riggs. Her body is still beside the R’leigh Bo. This is all a recreation and none of us are here physically, so we must make certain adjustments in order to facilitate adequate comprehension. Even though her body was not here as you understand it, she was part of this moment in time. However, you are correct, her presence here is not from your own memory. The simplest explanation for this is that yours is not the only mind we have been privy to over the centuries.”

“What? You mean, what you’re doing to me, you’ve done to others as well?” Perhaps they had been right to keep this bit of information from him. Clenching his fists, he felt his anger rising.

“Is this such a surprise to you, Riggs? You should have figured it out already, but if it makes you feel better, your ‘imprisonment,’ as you describe it, was necessary and unique to your situation. You are the only specimen we ever placed into forced stasis and one of the few minds we openly communicate with.”

It did not make him feel better. “Just how many minds have you violated with your constant probing? You’re saying you were in Sylva’s head too? Who else? My mother, my sister?” Knowing that these things could have very well been spying on his family, and who knows who else, threatened to set his stomach aboil.

“This is our nature, Riggs. We can deny it no more than you can yours. Our role is observatory—to gather information. Rarely do we make our presence known. As previously stated, you are a special case. You might consider adopting a more grateful demeanor; the information we can provide could be of utmost value.”

“Value to whom? To you and your manipulations? Those are private memories! I will not be a party to this…this…mind rape!” He couldn’t take his eyes off the girl. She had lost just as much as he, perhaps more. The echo of the girl’s yearning for her lost mother still ached within his own chest. Riggs found himself pitying her. He saw within those eyes his own hurt, mirrored back at him camouflaged with an icy exterior.

The bugs had been in her mind as well, forced themselves on her whether she knew it or not. Just how long had they been there? Had the bugs been there even before the Bo?

“Calm yourself, Riggs. If we had not merged her memories with your own, you may never have understood the reason why she attempted to strike your mother down, killing your sister. In addition, your cooperation is not required. Full memory reintegration, including those from external sources will increase your odds of success dramatically. You mistake our attempt at cordiality with giving you a choice to participate. I assure you, there is no choice. We have provided these interludes as a courtesy, hoping to ease your mind into recollection. However, they are easily removed, as we can no longer afford the time to cater to your moral tantrums. Prepare yourself, Riggs.”

“Wait, I have more questions! What of this Legacy Sylva spoke of? Is that the same thing as the Nexus?”

No response. They could never hide their true nature for long. Logical, emotionless, inhuman. Just how long had his family been plagued by their scheming?

“Answer me!” he screamed.

He knew they would not.

He turned back to Sylva, her eyes still smoldering with the energies of the storm.

He was not angry with the nymph, despite her attack upon his family. No, his anger burned alongside hers. The short glimpse into her memory had demonstrated the youthfulness of her mind. A child attempting to handle very adult emotions without any form of direction. She needed guidance. A thought floated up from the depths of his mind, I should have been there for you, should have protected you...

Where did that come from? Riggs tried to chase the memory but fell victim to the multitude of pitfalls within his mind while the memory flitted away. He did manage to grasp something though--and overwhelming desire to protect this girl. Not the forced yearning brought on by her Glory he had first experienced beside the R’leigh Bo, but a legitimate and human response to a kindred spirit in need. The connection he felt to this creature was real, not compulsory.

Riggs braced himself as the storm instantaneously caught up with time again. Rain slapped his face as his mother’s muffled sobbing barely tore through the howling wind. The flash of lightning above vanished. Sylva’s eyes smoldered in the darkness left behind as the boom of thunder once again lost its race with its brother. Her eyes were the last beacons in the darkness. He shouted out to her.

“I’m sorry for what they’ve done to you, Sylva! I’ll make it right, somehow. I promise I will!”

The world went dark.

Some Of My Work

* * *

The Chronicles of Salen Kur’Savien -- A Prequel to A World Long Sundered

* * *

* * *

* * *

My Blog
A World Long Sundered -- Chapter 1 Original Version -- Note: This version was edited and broken into the 2 parts of chapter 1 above. Some might like to compare.
Want to learn more about the Fiction Workshop? Click here.

Sources 1