It Takes Your Mind Again

When Lerion had his mind, or arguably, essence transferred to the suit of armor he then fell off the peak of the Arens and into the ocean. The armor would eventually awaken. But what of the man?

So it is done.

The fall had happened so quickly. I thought it would have lasted longer, given the height I descended from atop the mesa. But, things never go according to plan...

I land with a thunderclap, and the solid floor underneath dissolves. The waves that rise from the impact splash down upon me, and I am aware of every lost nerve in my being. The churning waters envelope my shattered limbs. I float, for a moment, and then my body is consumed. The water rolls over my vision, as if over a plate. And then all is blue.

I sink, dragged by an invisible but forceful current, down, down below. My reality is now filled, throughout every pocket and fissure, in every nook and cranny, with water. It pours up into the cavities within my skull through the nose and mouth. I can hear only dull thudding as the pressure within my ears equalizes. There is nothing but the drone, then only my own resonating heartbeat. And then, time slows down.

I feel every bubble, the last air I will ever see, cascade off my back and limbs. They float away, towards an existence and plane that I have abandoned forever. They lazily bump into one another, and though I know some will never make it to their ultimate destination, right now they are all whole. And I can count each and every one of them. I bid them farewell and a swift and speedy journey. They refuse to oblige, instead slowing until it seems like they've frozen in ice.

I cannot see it, but the current passes through my fingers like it was the wind. It carries the strands of my hair in front of my eyes. Each one ripples and curls, intertwining and unraveling at the same time. I try to reach for them with arms and hands that no longer function. It is cold. Not freezing, not even bone-chilling, just the absence of heat. It surrounds me in the way that only pervading existence can. It is cold and it is dark. And I am alone.

I cannot sense my descent into the watery depths, nor even the pounding of my own failing organs anymore. The dead weight of my limbs has fallen away to a more general feeling of non-being; as if I never had movable limbs to begin with and so never missed them. I am nothing but me, and I am still.

I wonder. Will I remember this, if I awaken after Adram's spell? Or will that be a different me. Does the notion of I continue in another body? Or is it merely an identical pattern of thoughts, now carrying out its own life and meaning upon its beginning? What will befall me? If the armor awakens, is it me, or is it just a copy? Do I, the original, end right now? Does this moment even matter to anyone beside myself?

Honor exists in the mind, I once told my soldiers. And in your mind is your reality. Does the same apply to meaning? Does it apply to self?

I wonder. Does the awakened armor count as me, or as a different person? Already, our experiences differ, as it will not know this, and I will not know whatever exploits it endures. If the spell even worked, have I only killed myself? Killed me, killed the one person who is me? Or, if all I am is a pattern of thoughts, one that can be replicated (Am I already dead?) then what was I ever?

Even if it thinks like me, would I know the difference? Or would we disagree, as identical but distinct as brothers. Have I only handed the reigns to another, or am I actually immortal now?

Even if the consciousness in the armor carries on its, my, ultimate dreams, would it find me? The me right now, does my soul exist as something that can be found? If everything I believe in is true, if my assumptions of how existence operates are correct, then no. The pattern of thoughts that is me lies here, forever distinct from whatever consciousness now roams free beyond mortal constraints.

If the spell worked. If any of it worked.

But it doesn't matter. The one that is me ends here.

I wonder. I cannot picture her face anymore. I cannot remember my soldiers. The landscapes of my conquests are all under shroud, and the proud metropolis of my people no longer exists in my mind. The world is a notion, and everything in it has passed from my memory. All I still know is that it once was there, and now has faded. I try to see, something, try to find, anything. But there is nothing but void.

And then....twinkles break through the darkness. Dozens, hundreds, thousands. An eternity passes, giving me the time needed to count each and every one. Millions. Billions. Trillions. Wispy textures dawn through the dark, giving shape to billowing expanses of dust. The pinpricks of light blink, and there, framed by this cosmos, is a perfectly glowing pallid sphere. Even in this dim haze, I can recall its shades and pockmarked visage. It rises, and its soft illumination comforts me at the ends of the earth. I don't remember anything else about the poles, but I remember looking at the sky. I remember this. It is all that I can see, and it is all that I will miss.

How I longed for the stars. But my dreams end with me, and begin with another. If it awakens, it cannot know failure, for I have never ceded to it. And neither will it. If it awakens, it will cross the great expanses and wander among the stars. It will exist without boundary, and it will influence the fabric of reality itself. It will prove that it is all possible, and eventually all minds will be cosmos. It will be a destiny.

But what of me? I wonder.

Can I open my eyes?

I try, and with my last intent they do. Though it is hazed, muddled by the depths of countless fathoms, I can still see it even with failing, fleshy eyes. Though it is rapidly fading, I no longer have to wonder. And I no longer have to fear.

I want to raise an arm and wrap my fingers around it, but I can't even try.

But that's alright. In my mind, and I can only hope also in body, I smile under the sparkling dot of a pale moon's light.

Author's Note

Another "scene" about Lerion.

Written while listening to The National's "Exile Vilify"

I usually proofread my works, however as always I'm sure there are typos and syntax errors. I appreciate any and all notices of that, and will work to correct those. If I haven't do know that I did acknowledge your notice and try implementing it, but found that it detracted from the effect I wanted and so omitted it.

Reviews

[mark slade]

i liked this. good story, nice amount of words.

[Dytalus]

This is an awesome written death scene (I'm assuming it's an actual death scene