Chapter 2: A Search for Self

  "You need to drink this," she said, without a trace of smile we just shared. Just conviction. "This divine healing potion will mend your vessel and allow your soul to rest."

  The potion stunk of mud, spicy herbs, and something I couldn't place, so I tried to push it away. But that woman didn't take no for an answer. "You *need* to drink this, I'm sorry." She firmly forced the vile liquid down my throat. A single thought flashed through my mind before my eyes closed, "Fine, but I'll remember this."

  Waves of calmness, each stronger than the previous, washed over me. I drifted away in her arms as she cautiously laid me down.

  Complete darkness.

  Spark of a weak light.

  It drew me in like a moth, but my legs were glued to the floor and didn't budge. Genuine laughter perked me up, but it cracked midway—replaced by silent sobbing.

  I finally forced a step on the cold water, to get closer to the warmth, then the next one. It took forever. When I got almost there, shadows revealed a face which I didn't know I missed so much. "My love, I'm here," she said.

  But as I got closer, each step felt heavier, and the distance strangely grew. Her hand reached out to me but I couldn't grab it. She was calling me frantically: "Wake up Leonard, wake up, wake up, wake..."

  A strong grip on my forearm. Pulsing tingle from my wrist. Each beat anchored me more in reality.

  "The vitality talisman is ready, Matron." A familiar voice pulled me from the dream.

  When I opened my eyes I felt incredibly better and found myself in a different, much larger room—full of people and pleasantly warm. Some were lying unconscious on the beds, but others were quietly tending to them.

  At the center there was a large altar covered with detailed engravings. There was an abstract pattern to it—multiple edgy lines. Perhaps, it was writing? But too many and too close... I couldn't make sense of them.

  The altar was surrounded by a barrier, like a perfect glass without a speck of dust. Beneath there were straight lines suggesting storage compartments.

  An old woman sat on the chair in front of my bed. Her legs, hidden under the robe, touched the bed frame. Robe was different—loose, casual, and worn like a bathrobe. Wide, ornamental belt bound her waist, braided into a single strand. White fabric parted slightly; underneath, nothing but plain, light-grey cloth. Red jewelry, like a cluster of grapes, clung to her neck. Only spark of color on her.

  Slightly behind her was an owner of the hypnotizing golden eyes from before. Similar robes, just less fancy.

  "Hello Otherworlder," an old woman beside my bed said, pulling my eyes away from the altar. "My name is Pythia, I am the Highest Priestess of Pandora. and"—she pointed elegantly behind her—"this is Evadne, a High Priestess and one of our most gifted healers." Both Pythia and Evadne were smiling kindly, although in a reserved way.

  I closed my eyes, trying to force the details of the dream back into focus. The face I saw... her face... it was already fading, leaving only a silhouette and an aching void in my chest.

  *Don't go, please don't go...*

  "Are you alright, Leonard?" Althea spoke, the mark on my wrist pulsing softly. "You slept like a rock, but you started tossing and turning."

  "Althea, I have to go back," I whispered, the words escaping before I could stop them. "Someone is waiting for me."

  Shock crossed Pythia's dignified face at my words. Evadne's gaze widened, her lips thinning to a straight line. She quickly looked away, focusing her gaze on the Matron, then down on the cup in her hands. Some people looked at me with confusion, whispers filled the hall, but I didn't care.

  "To my world, Althea. I just saw her... my love. My family is there." I caught Evadne's stolen glance.

  "I don't remember them all yet, but I have to get back." Evadne flinched, just slightly. Her knuckles whitened around the cup in her hands.

  "I understand your attachment to the past," Althea interrupted.

  "But feelings don't change facts, Leonard. That life is over." Her pragmatism was like a bucket of cold water.

  The Highest Priestess, Pythia, spoke up. Her smile never changed, but her eyebrows drew closer. "Pandora chose you and blessed you, Otherworlder. You are the 'Wild Seed' from the prophecy—the one whose growth will clear the path to our victory." Her words felt empty to me and I looked away.

  "She's right," Althea reinforced Pythia's words. "Pandora didn't bring you here to reminisce. She brought you here to fight." Her bluntness was a slap in the face. "They restored your body for a purpose."

  A muscle in my jaw twitched.

  "Pandora didn't explain anything," I tried to defend myself hesitantly.

  Althea took the opportunity. "I know this is difficult for you, but do you see all the people here? These and many, many more in this world—they fight a war, a war not like any other, a war for survival. Your personal loss, as painful as it is, is now secondary to their reality. That is the truth of your new life." My hand clenched, I didn't even notice when.

  Others observed us secretly, pretending to continue their previous tasks. Anger burned inside me. I looked around at the tired faces, the grim set of their jaws. My war was right here, inside my own chest, and I was losing.

  "My personal loss?" Words shot from my throat. "It's not 'secondary'! It was my life! And I don't even remember it!" I turned my head away from them.

  My outburst swelled the whispers, voices overlapping, louder than before.

  "Leonard," Althea reached out to me, "maybe try to settle in for now and-"

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  "Silence," Pythia cut through the noise silencing everybody. Althea too. The glow on my wrist faded.

  "Otherworlder," Pythia's spoke quietly, "perhaps this conversation happened too soon." Her smile became fainter, but more genuine. Her eyes softened as she glanced at Evadne. "Let us continue later. Now, tell us if you're thirsty. This child here was worried you might be."

  Mine and Evadne's eyes met. Without looking away, I grabbed the cup, relieved the topic had changed. When I took a sip, the tension on her face faded, and my own muscles relaxed too.

  "Thank you," I said. For a brief moment, I drank the water, calming down and pondering on my situation. The quiet murmur of the hall resumed. Patients had woken up prematurely because of me. Some started groaning in pain, some tried to stand up from the beds. Healers, as I guessed, moved between beds like bees in a hive.

  *Sorry, didn't mean to cause a ruckus.*

  Many eyes glared at me. Trapping me.

  *I need to get out of here.*

  "I'd like to look around," I said the first idea that came to my mind.

  Pythia picked up on this immediately. "Very well, let me walk you out," she said, gently helping me stand. "Come, child." She turned to Evadne. "I have my duties, but you may assist him."

  We walked slowly toward the exit. A glimpse of passing faces widened my eyes. The lack of variation was disturbing. Their hair color, darker skin tone, and other facial features were oddly similar.

  On the other hand, they were heavy on jewelry, tattoos, and subtle details on their robes. Like they were trying to distinguish themselves.

  And Evadne? Her golden eyes were the only jewels she had. They were more than enough.

  Pythia leaned closer, grabbing my attention. "You are new to this world, so many things may be surprising for you." Her delicate hand pointed to my wrist. "I have authority over spirits in Pandora's domain—it's my blessing. I can hear your Guide, but others cannot."

  Others cannot. The seemingly simple statement echoed in my mind.

  *Wait, that means... So I've been talking to myself like some kind of lunatic?*

  *Screw that, there's potentially a bigger problem here, and I need to know if my worry is true.*

  "Does my Guide hear my thoughts?" I asked.

  My eyes fell on a well-built man lying on a bed nearby. His arm was submerged in a glassy tube with intricate ornaments. Inside there was a strange, rose-red liquid with tiny pieces swirling inside as if shaken.

  The sight was disgusting—part of his palm was missing, bones clearly visible. A flashback hit me, of my own hands desperately trying to stop the bleeding from someone's wound.

  Pythia followed my gaze, but she seemed unfazed. "No, that would be against Pandora's teachings. She can hear what you hear—that includes your voice when you speak—but not your thoughts."

  I wanted to ask more, but we were nearing the tall exit leading to the hallway, and Pythia finished with a final piece of advice.

  "Your Guide is a powerful spirit. She will give answers to all questions, but be careful what and how you ask," she said, turning to Evadne. "Walk him, child." She started to turn away but returned to me for a brief moment.

  "And oh, I almost forgot—you may speak now, Althea." Her eyes fixed on my wrist as she said the name. The mark on my wrist started to glow like before. But Althea remained silent in Pythia's presence.

  "May Pandora guide your heart," Pythia addressed me for the last time before she turned and walked back into the hall. There were no other people besides Evadne in the immediate vicinity now. My lips thinned as I thought about the other "person" that remained with me—Althea.

  "Can you show me the knights, High Priestess?" I asked.

  She firmly countered, "We will go to the mess hall first. As your caretaker, I advise a meal."

  My empty stomach agreed with a strong contraction, and a sudden rush of saliva confirmed the decision.

  "Fine, let's go. Where to now?"

  "It's on the floor above, there's an elevator," she said, pulling me away from the stairs, but I resisted.

  "I can climb the stairs," I insisted.

  She readied to argue, but her determination wavered when I smiled.

  "It feels worse than a hangover but I'll manage."

  She remained silent, so I resumed the walk to the stairs. This time she didn't object.

  We slowly climbed up, catching each other's glances a few times. With each tedious step that burned my legs, the distance from the past conflict grew.

  We heard a distant conversation from above.

  "Did you hear? There's an Otherworlder in the Temple."

  The voice became clearer as we moved.

  "So the prophecy was real," a second voice replied. "Careful, it sounds like you didn't believe. If somebody..."

  They went silent when they spotted us but resumed when they passed. I managed to catch the last few sentences: "I heard his vessel is unstable after the summoning. The clinic barely stabilized him."

  I understood the rumors. My pants hung loosely on thin legs, and heavy feet were stubbornly resisting each step.

  As we neared the turn, the light grew brighter. The hum of a low murmur intensified, intertwined with bursts of laughter.

  "High Priestess, was my summoning such a big deal?" I said, cautiously picking words. But she basically ignored my question saying: "Focus on recovery, Otherworlder. We're almost there, mess hall is right there."