Lost and Forgotten

From deep within the frosty veil, the tangled web of times unknown, they return. Your allies, they return. Their breath seems barely within their grasp as they try to catch it with each crunching, staggered step across the icy terrain. This pond of lost reflections, once a right of passage among those who sought to join the enlightened ones, now stands still, frozen over in defiance.

One by one they reach you. One by one they cross the threshold, returning themselves to your shared realm of warmth and security. One by one they fall limp in your arms. As you steady them, you take a moment to study their eyes which all too soon flutter open with a renewed sense of purpose burning within. Whether fear, joy, sadness, or pride is etched into their face upon awakening, each and everyone of them is transformed. They are different, enlightened even, but most importantly, they are alive.

Alive. It was certainly not a certainty, and though they lay here living now, you cannot help but feel the fear writhe and twist within you; the fear of what is to come. Many wearing wanderers and fool-hardy travellers have lost their lives in ages past, venturing too far beyond the veil that parts this world and that which lies beyond. Though time approaches swiftly, never once in your life had you believed you would be here, preparing to take that undeniably treacherous step. After all, myths and legends were never really quite your purview. You never put much stock in this before, so how, I ask you, how did you get yourself mixed up in this mess?

The final friend before you stands, nods a silent farewell, and makes his way across the pond as each of the others had. As the fog takes him, you watch breathlessly as the silhouette stops; the only sign he stands within. The tension holds as the vague figure gently moves a handful of paces to the right. It seems much like the others until, in unexpected downward motion, he disappears from sight.

No!

Your better judgement now lost with his likeness, you leap from your patient place of waiting and streak out across the ice to save him. The hands of the others reach out to stop you but none are fast enough, and before long you find yourself adrift and alone in the fog. You cannot make out the space around you, seemingly a void of endless mist, and yet scattered sounds begin to echo from every angle. As you whip your head around trying to catch the source of childlike laughter, of pattering footsteps, of mournful weeping, triumphant cheers, private whispers, the cacophony of sounds is disorientating and you cannot find a single point of purchase. Each time you think you spot someone they are gone just as quickly, as though they cannot exist except within the corner of your eye.

The bitter surface shudders beneath your feet as five thin glacial walls shoot upward from the frigid floor, silencing the voices for one unending moment. Glancing into nature’s mirrors you find yourself surrounded by your own visage, although not quite. There’s something strange about them, the way they hold themselves, the clothes they wear, the scars that graze their skin. And just like that, the silence is broken. The reflections, your reflections flit in and out of view untethered, the voices rising once again, but this time you see them. Every choice you ever made, turned the other way. Every soul you might have been, every life you might have lived, lays bare for you to see, but only, each time, for a moment. A moment, then they’re gone forever it seems, until one mirror ripples and that version steps through. Face to face now with what appears to be your most similar self, you can’t help but feel a frightful chill. There is a strength in her you cannot place and it shakes you to your core.

“Obviously the best of us has to be the one to return,” she offers, confident in what you already know.

In unison, “And that’s going to be me.”

Your breath catches in your chest. As you reflexively turn back toward the shore, towards your friends, the walls melt and you can see them clearly. You lead her away slightly, deeper in across the frozen pond. A sudden need for privacy rising within you, even though by all you know they cannot see.

“Ok, so we go in here and see different versions of ourselves,” you say, taking the time to process the enormity of this bizarre situation, “You’re meant to be different, right?”

“Yes,” she replies, “I am, I’m better. After all, you’re just a reflection.”

In unison, “I’m the one who came out here. I came to find my friend.”

You step back, guarded. The conviction is jarring. It’s ridiculous. She can’t possibly believe this could work, that she could fool you into questioning your own existence, but still...that voice, those eyes are filled with such certainty.

You shake your head, “No, I-I’m the one who’s been here the whole time. They need me. I’m the one who makes the decisions they can’t.”

“I’m the one who can save her,” she replies, “If it were me, she never would have disappeared in the first place.”

The painful memory washes over you, as the ice beneath you thaws. As you plunge into the depths of the frigid water, the world begins to blur as the feelings of helplessness, hopelessness and insecurity weigh upon your soul. Gasping for air that will never come, the world around begins to blur. The dark closes in, until...it’s gone.

You stand alone upon a frozen pond, the sunlight sparkling upon its clear complexion. Somehow the time, all time, before you broke the edge of the pond eludes you just a little. You see your friends upon the bank, awaiting your return, and you recognise them, of course you do, but for all the love you must have for them, somehow they don’t seem quite real. As you walk towards them, leaving this space, you can’t help feel it, a tiny seed of doubt.

Is it me?