Cold Thing

He speaks softly, "I once knew a world where the sun still shined and the trees weren't always dead. I knew a world when it began, when it became and when it fell, but I know nothing of the world now. You once asked me to tell you stories from the before..."

The cub remains silent by His side too weak to respond, but she listens as much as she can. Her breathing is rough yet rather shallow, almost impossible to hear if it wasn't for the silence. He watches her closely wondering what He should do, or how to help her. For a while, the winter cub could not stop coughing. She'd hack up blood near the end of a fit and wheeze struggling to let the air back into her lungs. It was painful to watch, let alone bear that horrid sound, but what could He do? If She were here They could make the pain stop with a simple touch, then absorb it perhaps just like the girl had done before Them. But They weren't her, were They? No, no They were not. Destruction and harm was all They ever brought. It was all They ever attracted. And They enjoyed it...for a while. And for a while, He did too, but nothing lasts, nothing ever dose. Nothing sweet ever lasts...a reminder. A warning. He can still feel the anger in Her words as if She were still here, ready to ignite every nerve in His being until two became one once more. He shudders.

A memory of the girl flickers between light and shadow in his mind, barely recognizable anymore all but that white dress. If only he could remember her face, her eyes, her voice, anything at all. If only he could remember her name. Something to keep him from slipping. But there are so many 'if only's' to dwell on before it becomes too painful to think about. His voice cracks this time, "I wish I could tell you that every story has a happy ending somewhere deep down, but I'm afraid that's hardly true at all. Most stories end just the way they are told and you can't exactly rewrite them. You can only start where you are and hope to reach where you are going." He lets loose a worn sigh as each of His fingertips feel through the soft layers of His hair in one abrupt motion. Frustration has never been His friend. The coughing fits start again following that painful wheezing sound smothering her from the inside out. He can't stand watching her suffer any longer.

Taking off His cloak, He wraps the tattered thing around the little cub in hopes it would keep her warm long enough until He returns. "I'm going to fix this. You'll be alright, just hold on a little longer until I find what I need to help you."

She shivers under His touch, another reminder of what lies restless beneath His skin and how long she has before the cold comes to claims her too. Her words dig further into his skin. Cold thing... No, He won't let that happen, He can't let His mind linger on such terrible thoughts. She won't win.

Slipping away again through a haze of black smoke, He leaves the young cub alone in the dark, frigid, and helpless. Luckily He knows exactly where to go and what to look for. He's seen this place before in a memory, not of His own making, but of another whose been to the Surreal Dimension a long, long time ago. In truth, He's only been in the memory of it and has seen the thing who deems it home, or perhaps it's more of a cage like the girl had once said.

Many void dimensions exist endlessly, branching off from the very root of Chaos, where the first light came to be before Order had been consumed. Recollections of entities and occurrences of different realms are constantly playing in the far reaches of Their mind, always from points of view that are rarely Their own. No wonder They fell mad. Emotions flooded through them from different directional lineages changing perspective, characteristics, and so on. Sometimes They'd be all at once but rarely remained sane. She was the one who dominated overall, but She too became just as lost as the rest, Him included. Now He is alone, vacant of the voices that would normally try to claw their way to the surface. Somehow She had silenced them, but He could still feel them faintly, but not too far as She is now.

A particular memory leads Him through where He needs to go. A gate made of flesh, of bone, and a beating heart. It's always moving, never in the same spot twice. And of the same blood is the key. He remembers the phrase and it's meaning is clear. She and the girl gave birth to this GateKeeper, and only they are permitted to enter the Surreal Dimension. But He may be able to deceive the GateKeeper into granting Him passage.

High winds strip the ground bare of any ash or snow. All that remains is the charred trees against the hazardous landscape. Tracking anything is nearly impossible without a little luck, let alone something that never shuts an eye. He knows it's in the area. He can feel its eyes watching from beyond the winds. Colorless but bright, its eyes pierce through the perpetual darkness like blades similar to starlight, unlike anything natural. Although natural no longer suits this current timeline.

"Heidi," He calls out against the winds sounding unlike Himself. Its eyes don't blink as He takes on the form of a familiar sight. Back in the crystalline mirrors, He would most likely mistake His reflection for Her. Moonlight hair and dark sable skin with eyes like smoldering coals. He may look and sound like Her, but it's the bond they share He hopes will sweeten the pot just enough to pass through. He doesn't worry about dying at the hands of this creature, for there are far worse fates than death. Eternity without end is among the worst.

The features of its face appear first as it slowly approaches. Even with His vision, it's hard to catch a glimpse of anything if it weren't for the fires burning far in the southwestern territories. If She hadn't left, He'd still be able to access Her energy to make His own fire to touch and to hold. It would be enough to see the GateKeeper fully if He wished it so. The very thought of Her again interrupting His thoughts twists a knot in His stomach. A rotting infestation of regret mixed with disgust and envy. Desperately He pushes them far away.

He reaches a hand out to touch its pale face. Black tendrils creep out from beneath the tear running down the center between its eyes, down its nose, and ending at the lip. More tendrils emerge from it's parted maw drawn to His gesturing arm.

"I need to see Jack," another phrase from a memory long passed, repeats itself off His lips in Her voice. The tendrils pause briefly before receding. It must sense Her because the creature rears back on two legs, its ribcage opening as tight flesh tears from the center of its chest similar to the alignment on its face. The same light coming from the GateKeepers eyes now floods through the sudden opening, illuminating the space around them while casting warped shadows between twilight, darkness, and daylight. Without further hesitation, He steps through, leaving the howling wind for an utterly deafening silence. Glancing back, the opening of ribs, flesh and light close abrupt on a tree unfamiliar to Him from the ones He left behind.