Work Text:
White light flashes and sparkles into your vision.
It dances. Rimmed with blues, greens and pinks, the colours splash and meld together, spiralling into a swirling hurricane of cosmos. Far off, hidden behind a snowy mist, something tells you it’s relevant – the colours at least – and a flickering image of three sparkling gems crosses your mind. Oddly, it feels right. Fated, like destiny. Prophesised perhaps, and though you want nothing more than to reach out and grasp it, something holds you back. It’s not yours to take, you think. Or maybe you hadn’t proven you’re worthy – you’re not sure. You don’t remember what they mean to you anyway.
The image shutters out eventually. The gems glisten and shimmer into three stars burning bright. Twinkling and hurtling away, firing neurons back and forth like comets, they layer the backs of your eyelids with a starry night sky. Their colours streak before shooting away far off into the distance, leaving behind only a ghostly trail that remains. Faded, breaking, disappearing.
It’s beautiful, you think, mesmerising in a way. Enchanting, drawing you back in, but it’s so beautiful that almost hurts to watch. It does hurt, and that pain only radiates and grows. Starting from your pupils, sending electrifying agony along nerves as it spreads further. A fire crackling along skin, raking flesh, fissures breaking out in its wake that only burrow deeper and deeper. It tears you apart, thundering on as ache drills into your head, itching and prodding your brain that only begs and hopes for some relief.
You’ve stared too long into a cosmic abyss and it only stares back. Watching, waiting, haunting you like prey. It asks too much; it takes too much – and you don’t want it. You’re too young, you’ve got so much to live for and it’s not your place, not your choice to take up the mantle. It hurts; you want the bright light to fade out and disappear completely, to let you go, to leave you alone, to give you peace at long last after such a long and tiring journey. An easy way out you think faintly, but you’d do anything to rid yourself of it. Anything for it to go, you have to get back, even if that meant giving up everything – even you. You can’t bear it; you just want that awful pain to-.
A wish granted; the pain begins to fade. Suddenly, the light leaves you cold and alone. Toppling forward, you fall into a whirlwind of colour and then thrown back out ungraciously to the other side. Coated in darkness, lost in an empty void, trapped in a starless night.
Feeling slowly starts to return to you. First with a dull but pounding headache that no matter how hard you wish it away, refuses to leave. A reminder of a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things – for what exactly, you don’t know. Next, you’re thrown back into your body, pins and needles pricking at your fingers and your toes. Body heavy and still a little bit far away, it feels off, wrong even. Foreign and alien – like it’s not quite yours but is yours just the same. Still, your body is your own and you’re glad of that. Maybe this time, you won’t lose it to the wind… whatever that might mean.
There’s a lingering chill that haunts you as more senses return. Splashing at your skin like waves lapping at the beach, it tides you back over into the world of the living. Sensation fading in, odd smells of earth and swamp reach your nostrils, and you think you might be lying on your back. And maybe there’s a reason you feel like you’re floating away, cast adrift in a never-ending ocean because water tickles at your skin now. Something cold and strangely webbed holds your hand, and as much as the feeling grosses you out, making you want to squirm out of reach, it’s comforting in a way. Like you could take on anything, even the world.
Warmer hands cling to your other hand where faintly you feel a thumb run along your knuckles as another hand runs gently through your hair. The feeling is soothing and gentle, and though exhaustion holds you still, threatening to never let you go, it’s like the film from around you is pulled away. Sound stutters in, murmured whispers lulling you back to the surface, pulling you from the brink and finally, you pry your eyes open and awaken.
A different light trickles into your vision now, and you were right – you’re lying on your back in shallow water. A dried-up lake you find, and as your eyes adjust to your surroundings, it’s not the only thing in a sorry state. The land is dull and dying, trees bare and toppled. A destroyed castle lies not too far away, where rubble continues to crumble from its walls, cracking and tumbling as it kicks up dust where it falls. The world is tinged in muted oranges and reds, and as you look further up, the sky is littered with stars and… debris? You’re not sure what to make of that, and you’re afraid to find out.
Tearing your eyes away, you instead settle on the ones who still cling tightly to you in desperation. On your right, there’s a small and pink frog-like being whose head is held down. Tears track down his cheeks and he looks so small, and though your heart aches at the sight, that’s not what bothers you. His hat and goggles are askew. You want to reach out and set them right because something tells you it’s important. And as bizarre as he might seem, there’s something familiar about him. Warming, comforting – perhaps a friend, or strangely, even family.
But you don’t do it; you don’t want to cross boundaries unknown.
On your other side, you find something much more familiar. Two humans, just like you. One with long blonde hair and an assembly of odd maroon armour who holds you upright but doesn’t meet your eyes. Head turned, sorrowful and in mourning. A scar brandishes her cheek and it feels important, but you can’t remember why. The other has black short hair clasped in place with a green clip. Unlike the other girl, she’s huddled in a fur-lined blue cloak and a flimsy leather chest piece that looks hastily fixed together. You don’t think it provides much protection. Her shoulders are slumped in defeat; she too is crying, body shaking with each heaved sob. They both hold your hand.
Something hurts. Not just your aching head, but something deeper, locked away in your chest and weighted down with an unknown burden. Empathy maybe, you’re not sure, but whatever it seems to be, doesn’t like to see these people in pain. Words scrambling, you try to think of what to say that might help, to help bring them joy, to take away that pain and see them smile. You think of nothing – your words are meaningless and you don’t know how to help them.
The black-haired girl notices you’re awake first though. Her eyes meet yours and spark alive with happiness as soon as they do. A gasp escapes her lips before rushing to shake the other girl’s shoulder.
“Sasha, oh my frog, she’s awake,” The girl says, before turning her full attention back to you, scrambling to pull herself closer. Her hand never lets go of yours.
The other girl – Sasha – responds quickly. Wet tears cling to her eyelashes, but when she spots you looking back, relief washes over her face. Like the girl next to her, Sasha shifts herself closer, pulling you further in her embrace as she gives you a gentle squeeze.
“Damn it Boonchuy, you scared us,” Sasha says, voice raised but there’s no malice behind it. There’s only fleeting and fading fear.
Boonchuy. There’s a dull feeling of familiarity but the name doesn’t quite fit – or at least, it’s not complete. Still, they want you and hold you close, enveloping you in a comfortable and calming embrace. Maybe you can pull it off a bit longer, this façade of knowing. Maybe then you won’t have to break their hearts when they realise you don’t remember them.
The pink frog makes it easier.
“Anne? How are you feeling, is everything okay?”
Anne. That must be you. Anne Boonchuy. You get a feel for the name in your mouth, and it feels somewhat right. Boonchuy. Anne. Anne Boonchuy. All three look to you expectantly, waiting for your answer. And it would be so easy. So easy to play it off, to act like everything was okay, to take the easy way out.
But that would be so unfair. You’re not harsh-natured – that much you know. Slowly, you tease your hands out from theirs, earning only a confused and concerned look.
“I… I’m sorry,” you say, voice cracking, but that feels right, like a good place to start. They rush to console you but you stop them, “I… uh… where are we?”
They slowly turn to one another, a harrowing expression on each of their faces, before the girl with black hair draws forward once again.
“We’re still in Amphibia, you just… you left and came back and… we won. You won.”
“We won… what?” You ask innocently, shifting your head to one side in confusion, all the while slowly moving out of Sasha’s arms. Maybe then it’ll lessen the pain.
“Against The Core,” The pink frog says like that should mean something, “Is everything okay? Did you hurt your head?”
“No, I don’t think so,” You say because you didn’t hit your head and nothing’s okay, “I’m sorry, I just… I don’t remember.”
And with all the subtly of a car crash, something clicks. The little pink frog slumps backwards, eyes haunted and lost like someone had just killed his best friend. The black-haired girl sits stock-still, only a hand drawing to her face as tears well in her eyes. Sasha – the only name you’ve learnt and now remembered – watches carefully, a frown pulling at her lips.
“You don’t remember?” Sasha cautiously asks, “You remember us though… right?”
Your silence speaks volumes.
The pink frog – Sprig, you learn – takes it the hardest. He takes hold of your hand once again, pressing it to his head as he cries, tiny body quivering with every heart-wrenching sob. He tells you that you were a hero – his. That you’d met one another in green and flourishing woods far from this place, you’d come to his rescue and he’d come to yours. You were meant to be best friends forever, Spranne against the world. You hold back from hugging him; it might be too much for him.
After a while, it does become too much for him. Sasha carefully rubs his back as he cries, all the while holding back her own set of tears. Ever since you’d moved away, she can’t bring herself to touch you again. Afraid of invading space, as though the touch might burn, set you alight, losing you forever. She had lost you once already, from her own doing, she explains. You’d worked things out, become leaders of a rebellion together to save Marcy – the black-haired girl – and to find a way for you all to go back home. That’s as much as she tells you for now, giving you a short but strained smile before escorting Sprig away.
Marcy stays with you and this whole time; she’s never once let go of your hand. Not that you mind, you hadn’t before and you think maybe she needs this. She tries to hide her sorrow behind a mournful smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She’s not ready to let you go, Marcy explains, she’d promised you a long time ago that you wouldn’t lose her and she’s not about to do the same to you. Biting your tongue, you don’t tell her how she might’ve lost you anyway.
Eventually, Marcy stands up, and hand in tow, you follow. She gives you a gentle squeeze, a small reassurance for a long recovery ahead.
“You know, someone once told me that though things change, nothing, not distance or time, can break the bonds we share, and nothing can take away the memories of the time we spent together. It’ll take time, but we’ll all help you remember; I promise.”
And you want to believe her, you do, and what else is there to do? Where once you'd fallen, you rise yet again. You let yourself believe, in those who love you and who you might come to love again. You follow your heart and this time, you let your friends lead the way.
Besides, you might be surprised by what finds it's way back to you.