1.1

Inside the cave, Rey believed that the sticky unstable ground, which wavered between solid and liquid, had a life of its own. That it was like a sleeping giant just waking up very hungry.

Intent on shedding the mud, sweat and blood that covered his body, the little boy shook himself again and again, however ineffectively, to get deeper into the interior, where the moisture could not reach him. That was the only place around that would provide safety for him along with his inseparable furry companion, who efficiently shook the water from his fur and stretched out on the ground to satisfy the needs of his heaving lungs.

The little guy began to understand that even if he felt safe from all that lay beyond his new shelter, it didn't mean he was safe from what he could feel. He had stopped running, he had stopped the activity that had so tired him so far, but, still, he felt defeated. He sensed an enormous weight on his shoulders and a thick rope around his neck. Two factors that would not let him stand. "I need to lie down on the ground," he thought. Extreme fatigue was stalking him. His own body had him cornered and he didn't understand why. Once lying on the rough ground made up of roots, Rey felt a sensation coming over him that promised to bring even more darkness, neglect and weakness.

"Something else is being done out there," he said, alarmed, to himself after time passed and the rain began to fall. "I hear it falling from above. Dripping all over the place. Hitting the ground and wanting to keep going. Willing to end up being sucked into the blanket of dust and fallen leaves."

He could not see, nor did he know what rain was. He could only listen and analyze.

"The brittle boulders that usually rise into the air, the ones I always hit my forehead with while running blindly, are being engulfed by the ground, I'm sure. The ground is dangerous. Not to be trusted when awake. I was able to realize it in time. I'm fine here, it's safe. Yes, the ground here is still sleeping and not sticky like outside. As long as I have this place I don't have to keep moving until I get my energy back. Even if it is very slow and I am very agile. No need to risk it. Running makes me want to stop, makes me weak, and short of breath. It makes me tired..."

Time passes.

"I have shelter, but no food Maybe that's why I don't regain my energy? The water keeps falling. It doesn't give up. But, no matter how much my stomach rumbles, it's better to keep waiting, to wait for the earth to go to sleep... I could have stayed inside the tent Heroclades created, even if it means sharing a bed with him. Still, sleeping well and safe will not make me strong enough to solve my other problem, mother, father and the others. Yes, they who now sleep, but, just as the water awakened the earth, the light will awaken them and at that time they will come for me, wherever I am. As long as it is within this circle... I think... Perhaps it is the most convenient time to close my eyes, to surrender. To, perhaps, sleep as they do. To rest for a while, an instant; my comrade is also lying at the entrance. She can see and take care of me, entertain herself watching the water fall. Instead, I see black, even if I close my eyes tightly or open them as wide as I can. Everything is dark to me... I wonder if Heroclades knew that perhaps not being able to see would prevent me from escaping?"

Inside the cave, not only did the floor made up of roots or the presence of the furry companion provide security for the little one, but, between his bruised fingers, the child of beasts held an instrument he had created with his hands and teeth. A rustic spear fashioned from wood and the coiled horn he had found in the dead skull of an immense animal that, when alive, with its elongated legs, ran as fast as the wind. He, too, spent much of his time on a tree. He learned by seeing firsthand how one of those animals, which fed on grasses, could rival the claws and teeth of the smaller meat-eating animals. All thanks to the elongated horn on its forehead and its aggressive behavior when cornered. He would always take aim at the enemy and then run away.

"I don't know what sleep is, or how it feels, or how it could benefit me. I have only just understood one of the many factors so fundamental to living. But I, who have never slept, can remember the first time I opened my eyes. Not that I can remember how to wake up...."

Silence. Then, more doubts that increased the weight of the stone he carried on his shoulders,

"And, if perhaps I never wake up, would that be the same as dying? Will I become something hard and fleshless?... Hm...."

Memories. Rey didn't have many of those. The uncertainty was terrifying, as was the not knowing. But it didn't mean the little guy wasn't willing to face the risks.

"I was faster than the earth when it wanted to swallow me. I was smart enough to learn how to evade and fight the Guardians on my own. I was able to make my own fighting tool. I managed to face the darkness and continue to see it without losing consciousness or stop feeling the smell of the water, the cold of the breeze, the slimy sensation of it covering me or the pain of my wounds" he said to himself with an arrogant tone, the same that his master told him was used by the great heroes he had seen in his life. Heroic individuals who did not fear death. Heroes who to be what they were had gone through countless ordeals worthy of it.

But the infant, practically without a past, between the darkness and his thoughts, lost the way out without realizing it. In spite of everything, his arrogance only made him believe that he was winning the confrontation, when in truth it was already too late to escape in time.

What kind of imaginary perception can someone who lacks past, life experiences, reveries or longings have while walking straight into the world of dreams? Could someone submerged in the absence of consciousness of a mind cluttered by reparative tasks even experience unrealities? Could he experience fantasies? Revelations?

…

"What is this unpleasant feeling that invades every part of me...it won't let me go."

The little boy talked to himself in the lucidity of a dark world.

"I must run, move. My weapon, I have to attack. It's not like the earth that tried to swallow me, this time it's from all sides, I can feel it, but I can't see it."

Carefully, he opened his eyes and the black finally took color, without ceasing to be black, it became white and ended up inhabited by subtle colored lights. Rey rubbed his tired eyes and the effect became more intense.

"Yes, yes, I can see him, it's the darkness! It's the one trying to devour me!" he affirmed in his almost lucid dream, as he kept his eyes open. "Argh! Pain! The darkness becomes mowing, my eyes hurt! My head... something is crushing my head! I can't move! My heart, beaten, oppressed and torn by hands I can't see! My arms, my legs and chest are moving, vibrating all over the place, on their own, I can't stop them no matter how hard I try! They don't answer me, what is this?"

Between cramps, the little boy trembled, he couldn't stop his teeth, neither could he stop the cramps, nor fight the paralysis of his limbs.

"Get away from me, get out from inside me, leave me alone!"

Turn after turn went the little body exposed to the cold temperatures of the night.

"Why does the world twist and turn so much? Argh... Are you against me too?! Aaagh! I feel angry. I want to destroy without using any more logic. If with strength I can compensate for the ability to reason, why continue wasting my time? I have no strength... Show yourselves! I'm here!!! If you need to hide it's because you are weaker than me!!!!! Purring... this I feel is fear, I must purr."

Agitated he struggled without backing down, both on his way to the dream and in real life. The little boy's body writhed about the place, his mind breaking free and eclipsing the darkness. But he was not necessarily aware that his body, mind and soul resided in two worlds yet in one. He was also unaware that both sides did not endorse the same rules. That every living being was infused with the natural fear of death. A fear that only a few had the power to overcome and they were those who had to live the longest. Those whose screws were loosened.

In the face of danger, madness is the rust that corrupts the chains that bind life, which loosens the basis of the natural and common sense. The absence of sanity is the strength of those few, the weakness that life could not use to its advantage. Weakness with which the little one had never been born, meaning that he was not sane, for never having been afraid to die, and the reason why life along with death came to meet the energetic little one.

Rey tried by all means to reason, and what better way than to ask himself questions within the space crowded by geometric figures.

"What is this, where am I, it's not the same darkness, or is it?...two colors. Laughter, are they making fun of me, shiny balls!"

Distinguishing the two cylindrical spheres, Rey was able to identify himself and also the path there. Managing to move, he chased them until he managed to hold them in his hands. They both moved, as if trying to escape. Reflexively, he put them in his mouth until he decided to return them to freedom and try to talk to them. Rey opened his mouth, but the sound didn't come out.

"I can move, feel them and taste them, but my voice doesn't come out. I can't hear them either, if they try to tell me something like, 'Don't swallow me please!' Aaah, I don't know what I'm saying... It feels good, but not real, a dream maybe What will it be?...."

Dreaming implied being asleep, and if I slept, it meant I had lost.

"I can't neglect myself! I need shelter! I must find shelter! I can't submit! I must fight! I must keep moving! But... the pain is no more. It's cozy..."

Through the place, made up of hundreds of passages in different directions that was at once an open space devoid of paths, Rey kept walking, leaving the two spheres behind until he came upon something of his height. The black lump had no face or distinguishable features, but the same eyes.

"Who are you?" asked Rey as soon as he could find his voice.

The similarly shaped body did not respond, though he did raise his hand and point his index finger at the questioner.

"What do you mean, that he is me? No matter how much I move he seems to look at me the same way I look at him."

Again, though he was able to speak, his words stopped flowing, the little boy felt enraged and as he had energy he felt more inclined to use the way of force.

"Say something, answer my question... you irritating, annoying. Stop! Stop! Don't point at me anymore! Go away!!!!! I'm warning you, Agrr...."