The Oppressive Sweetness 2

For Donovan, the process was not nearly as eventful.

At least not that he could tell.

His body was almost completely numb, something to be expected of course, but he was used to the feeling sedatives gave off.

He could also feel the squirming. Not nearly as detailed as before, but the slight shifts in his body told him that there were things happening to him.

Sleep.

What was that? It might have just been sensory deprivation, but he could have sworn he heard something tell him to sleep.

Modification is difficult while conscious. Sleep.

There it was again! It definitely wasn't a hallucination this time around, but the voice was still very strange. Why? It didn't sound too different from how most people talked, even if it was a little choppy on the syllables.

Not voice, thoughts. Stop thinking, sleep.

Thoughts? So it wasn't a voice? That would explain why it was so different than normal speech. Hearing it again there wasn't really any weight or tone to it. But if it WAS a thought, whose was it? Surely not Donovan's.

Not yours, mine. Please sleep.

The Great Csillacra? These were the thoughts of the Great Csillacra?

Yes, now sleep.

How could Don possibly fall asleep now? He had so many questions. Was this how the Arboreal Maiden communicated with it?

Sleep.

He wanted to try talking to it, but he didn't know where to start. Internal dialogue maybe? Did he just think what he wanted to say? Could stuff like pictures and emotions be portrayed?

Please, stop thinking and sleep.

What about colors? Could they share their perception of colors? That was something that had gnawed at him for a long time but he had long since given up on figuring out.

What?

For example two people may see the color blue, but what if the way one person sees blue is how another would interpret green if their consciousness was magically transplanted inside their brain?

W-what?

Could that be a reason that people have different preferences for colors? We actually all enjoy a single 'color', its just that everybody sees the real world information differently?

Why are you doing this? I need you to sleep.

No, that couldn't be the case. Some people like black and white, and pretty much everybody agrees those are just extensions of bright and dark.

...

Then what about different ranges on the spectrum? They don't exactly have colors seeing as they are colors in their own right, technically. If that's the case then how would a brain that is unable to comprehend ultraviolet light without machine assistance react to it?

. . .

Would he just see it as a new color? Would it overlay and blend with the other frequencies on the visible spectrum? Could you paint with it? What about smell? Could the same thing be done for smells?

. . .

There was so much potential here he wanted to test, unintentionally ignoring the infinitely more pressing matter and voice attached to it.

Are you finished yet?

Donovan barely even registered the question. Suddenly he found his mind inundated with information, information he couldn't even process.

But he tried to.

Does that answer your questions? Sleep!

That was what it felt like to get information he couldn't handle? How odd. Don thought there might have been more to it than just a bunch of sensory cues, though he supposed that was all information really was. Just a bunch of tiny data bits fed to the brain in a consistent stream.

Just go to sleep!

He found himself inundated quite suddenly with a wave of drowsiness, wondering just how had the great Csillacra done that?

There was a portrayal of 'anger' in his mind before another surge fell upon him, drowning his conscious in full this time around.

- - - - - - -

Meanwhile, Diana watched on as a small chuckle escaped the Maidens lips.

"It would appear he is quite the troublemaker. I don't think anyone has given the Great Csillacra such a hard time it had to resort to brute force before."

Diana's face went pale. Donovan! "What did he do?"

"Oh nothing serious, he just went overboard and ignored the Great Csillacra's order to sleep. He is asleep now of course, but the Great Csillacra had to force it." She took a small cloth from the inside of her sleeve and began to wipe down her staff. "It took no offence. In fact, it seems to have only deepened its interest in the two of you."

"In what way?" Diana was nervous about asking that question, but there was no way she could continue the conversation without it.

"The spirit, conscious as you know it." She moved from polishing the gilding along the shaft to some of the ornamental attachments on the side. It only took a few wipes before it shone noticeably brighter. "It is a very rare occurrence that someone possesses the willpower to remain in a state capable of forming a cohesive thought while being operated on. Apparently there has never before been one capable of actively resisting and holding a dialogue."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"I wouldn't say that. Sure it might be slightly inconvenient in the short term, but it means great things for his potential. The Great Csillacra is particularly interested in seeing just how powerful it can make him." The way she expertly handled the tarnished and dirty areas without being able to see confounded Diana. "The level of mental stability under extreme sensory deprivation is extremely indicative of the maximum level to which an individual can expand their ability to manipulate split."

Diana could only take these words at face value, she had no idea how split worked. "What do you mean by extreme sensory deprivation?"

"Currently, his entire body is numb, he can feel nothing. He cannot see or hear, and taste and smell have been blocked as well. Perhaps the only thing he can actually tell for certain at the moment is which direction down is. The vast majority of people will panic when placed into this state. Donovan carried on as if he had been expecting it."