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Part X

Night of Denuo, Thirty-First Day of Autumnmoon

Rosa tried not to move. She lay still on her prison cot, trying to calm herself. The air was stifling, suffocating, hard to breathe—but she controlled every breath, keeping them slow and steady. She was having a panic attack, one of many over the past several days; fortunately, she had plenty of experience in dealing with them. They came and went, relics of a time when she used to be locked in her room as a young girl.

Her father had claimed it was for her protection. Tom Reynolds must have loved his porcelain doll greatly to have locked her inside her ivory tower anytime he left the household. Else, she might be exposed to the real world and break. He had done it for years while amassing his massive fortune in a job that required frequent travel. Each time, he left his daughter with his servants—maids and butlers who made sure she never set foot out of her bedroom.

The chamber itself was meticulously clean with white walls and bright pine floorboards and paneling. A handmade wooden dresser and wardrobe stood on either side of a queen-sized bed, on top of which starched white linens were stretched tightly over a firm mattress. It was too uncomfortable to lay on, not unlike her prison cot.

Tom would sometimes be absent for days, during which endless monotony would drive her to the brink of madness. Whenever Rosa learned of his departures, she would instantly get flashes of pure dread, followed by long periods of anxious anticipation. But as soon as the time came—when the heavy wooden door latched shut and she heard the heavy clank of the deadbolt—she would dive onto her lamb's wool carpet and defeat the boredom with a book. Her room was lined with shelves, each fully stocked with well-worn bindings and knick-knacks from her father's travels. She had all the time in the world to lose herself in her stories. It was the only thing she had to pass the time while her father built his empire.

At the same time, he had made it so difficult to hate him. Upon his returns, he would bear wondrous gifts and presents. Rosa's anger and frustration melted away each time she unknotted the colorful ribbons that adorned the many beautifully-wrapped boxes. She would unravel them in anticipation of decadent chocolates, stuffed animals, lifelike dolls, and best of all more books! And Tom hugged her and praised her like she was the best-behaved girl in all of Gaia.

Of course, as she matured, she grew to curse his well-intentioned abuse.

A childhood as Tom's daughter came with heavy emotional burdens, trust issues, and phobias. She thought she had outgrown most of them, but sadly, the confined space of her new prison chamber brought back ages of torment and anxiety. Whenever she reached for her magic to find it gone—when she looked to the empty walls hoping to find a window to the outside world—she felt the familiar numbness enter her limbs. Her body would break into a cold sweat and her heart would beat so fast she thought it would burst! She closed her eyes, trying to find a safe place, wishing for the feeling to pass. Oh, dear Gaia, let it pass!

Deep, forceful breaths. Subdued mind. Relaxation and concentration.

Then … bliss.

Her body returned to normal. She wiped away the sweat with the edge of her sleeve, turning her prisoner's garb a darker shade of gray. It had grown quite dingy from repeated use, and she could easily smell her own stink. She needed to be freed from her captivity, or else lose what little sanity she had left!

It had been two weeks since her defeat by the mysterious Gnostic Knight at the temple in Loulan. She should have been more careful. She should have expected that he would use a sunstone to bolster his power. She was not prepared to face that strength, and her hastiness had been her downfall.

A day or so later, when she first regained consciousness, she awoke in a dark empty room. The knight who looked so much like Bram had decided to visit. It was her first and only time meeting Samuel Cortez. Instead of striding in with Gnostic splendor, he wore a dark tunic and trousers. He looked so much like Bram, but the expression was all different: bold, calculating, sinister.

After introducing himself, he told her it was in her best interest to behave. If she did, he promised to release her in due time. He permitted no questions, but she was insistent. She would not let him walk away from her. She called out to him angrily.

"Face me, you coward! You can't keep me here. Bram will find me!"

Samuel cackled, his expression well-hidden by the room's darkness. "You are disillusioned, my dear. My brother's already dead."

Rosa's heart sank, but her defiance grew. "Liar! You wouldn't keep me here unless you thought you could use me against him."

"Question not my reasons," he returned coldly. "You're a liability as it is."

Rosa stared him down, radiating hatred.

He approached and pulled on the collar of his tunic to reveal a large scar across his shoulder and chest. His eyes were daggers. "Look closely, Miss Reynolds, and behold what your Abraham has done to me. I regret what I had to do, but he gave me no choice. Believe me when I say he could not have survived my retribution."

Rosa felt weak in the knees. The chill and cruelty of his words left her shivering. Perhaps Samuel believed them to be true … but she had to remain strong. For all she knew, he could have said them only to demoralize her. He left her trapped inside the dark room for days, right up until she was blindfolded and led to a new location.

It could have been meant to confuse her. Or, possibly, Samuel intended to mire his trail to slow down those who might be searching for her. Either way, she ended up in a second prison cell, her current resting place. It was cleaner and brighter than the last, but also smaller and more confining.

It was also practically airtight: no small recesses or vents in which to escape, no chance of overpowering her captors, and no magic. She was blocked by an anti-magic field, no doubt bolstered at all times by two white and two black wizards. Any less than that would have given her a weak spot to exploit.

For a while, she felt utterly helpless. Even her confrontation with Kane left little hope that she could sway him with sympathy. But at least he confirmed one thing. Bram was still alive. It was clear that her captors had intended to use her as a bargaining chip from the beginning. Kane refused to give her any details, but their meeting will still strange enough to leave her thinking. Bram's old friend must have gone to some risk to meet with her, despite his loyalty to Samuel. Was it because he wanted to reach out in some way?

She needed something … anything to help turn the tables. Her greatest worry was that Bram's brother might not honor his end of the bargain. If she did not act soon, the Gnostic Knight might decide to kill her regardless of what Bram delivered. And—Gaia forbid—if Bram did something horrible on her behalf ….

Fortunately, she had finally found her miracle. It came in the form of an item that Kane had left behind when he last spoke with her. Whether he had done it intentionally or not, it was precisely what she needed. Later, when she was sure no one watched, she lifted the edge of her mattress and retrieved the well-worn parchment from its hiding place.

It was an old photograph depicting two boys on a dusty road. There was no text or explanation, but she knew it was Kane and Bram as children. She wondered why Kane had brought it in the first place. Perhaps he had wanted to show her proof of his friendship with Bram. As unconscionable as he seemed sometimes, he might have seen it as a symbol of peaceful intent. Or perhaps he had wanted to prove that she had misjudged him in some way. Whatever the reason, one thing was for sure: In order to have survived so long in his possession, it must have been a treasured keepsake. And as far as the rules of magic went, it represented her best chance of escape.

Keepsakes were special. They were one of the subjects that wizards referred to as Arcane Magic, so-named for their history of subtleness and complexity. Fortunately, Rosa knew quite a bit about this kind of magic from her years of academic study. While her classroom peers spent their free time pursuing social activities, Rosa fled to the library and put her off-hours into independent research. Her habits as a child came in handy as she focused hours at a time into obscure fields of knowledge.

There was one particular loophole that she hoped to exploit. Because keepsakes such as this old photograph were considered close to a person's heart, they tended to bend the flow of magic. In fact, it was possible to bend the flow so sharply that she could alter the spell's origin to be at the keepsake owner's location. Ordinarily, most spells were line-of-sight, which made this kind of ability intriguing but not all that useful. However, since Rosa was trapped inside an anti-magic field, she planned to use this obscure rule of magic to cast a very special spell directly on Kane.

In particular, it was an enchantment known only to white wizards, and it involved connecting her mind with Kane's. It required him to be asleep at the time so that he would not resist the spell. While he dreamt, she could delve into his psyche and attempt to understand his allegiance to Samuel Cortez or his reasons for betraying Bram. With any luck, she might even reveal something that would aid her escape.

It would not be easy, however. There were rules, just like any other form of magic. As soon as a wizard made contact with another person's mind, they were taken to a place called the Subconscious. It was a mental manifestation that looked like an empty stage, on which the host's emotions would form into actors who pantomimed the host's innermost thoughts and feelings.

These actors—or rather, personas—would take on the appearance of the host body. Kane's personas, for example, would look just like him. Each had a name connecting them to various emotional states, such as "Honor", "Bravery", or "Compassion". By watching these personas perform their mimicry, a visiting wizard could learn invaluable information.

But there were dangers, too. Besides personas, the Subconscious also contained negative emotions, called deviants. A patient with a debilitating phobia of snakes might have the deviant "Fear" intimidating the personas with props in the form of snakes. By speaking with the personas, a visiting wizard might convince them to resist the threats and return to acting normally. To the outside world, the subject would appear rehabilitated and cured of his fears.

Of course, Rosa suspected that Kane's Subconscious would be quite a bit more complex. After betraying his best friend and foregoing his longstanding principles, Kane might suffer from multiple overlapping issues. His sociopathic behavior might indicate control by powerful deviants like Selfishness or Greed, who were both dangerous and difficult to overthrow. Wizards attempting to rehabilitate a sociopath needed to be committed for months if not years of therapy. Given Rosa's limited time, she could not waste it trying to disarm the deviants. She had to go straight to the source of his issues—the Memories.

At the core of Kane's Subconscious was a portal leading to his most personal recollections. It was a treacherous zone that most wizards avoided entirely. Visiting the Memories was something that the wizard and the subject experienced at the same time. To Kane, reliving his troubled past would be agonizing and horrific. Many wizards believed that truly painful memories were capable of cracking the psyche. Worse, the effects were amplified the further a wizard traveled into a subject's past. Any wizard daring to infiltrate a patient's troubled childhood gambled with their life. If the pressure ever became so strong that the psyche broke, the patient's body would fall into a deep coma and any visiting wizards would be trapped in the person's mind forever.

Fortunately, Rosa had read plenty of literature on these dangers, so she felt prepared to face them. Besides, it was her only means of connecting with her captor. If she failed and Samuel was as dangerous and calculating as he appeared, then her life was already in danger. She had no choice but to take a few risks.

So she bided her time until she was sure that Kane would be asleep. She stretched, laid back, and waited. Passing the time was agonizing. All she could do was stare at the ceiling and strategize how she would navigate through his Subconscious.

Rosa had a good idea which personas would yield the most effective conversations, but she had to be careful not to run into any deviants. Unfortunately, they all looked the same, so it was difficult to tell deviants apart from personas without speaking with them first. This was dangerous in mentally unstable individuals, whose deviants were more likely to run amok. Some deviants were even known to attack visiting wizards.

Rosa had to be especially careful, since her body was still inside the anti-magic field. While Kane's keepsake allowed her to project her mental manifestation into his Subconscious, she would still be leaving her spell-casting abilities behind. Without them, she would be defenseless against any aggressive deviants, and any wounds received in the Subconscious would have an impact on her real body. The brain still processed signals of pain and distress, and any significant injuries were treated as if the body were in danger. Rosa remembered reading about several studies that documented heart attacks, strokes, and lasting health issues.

Even so, she was no less committed. By her mental count, it was finally past midnight, and she was determined to follow through. With her hands clenched around the photograph, she turned toward the wall. While feigning sleep, she spoke the words of magic. She did not feel their power as she usually did, but her body still felt its effects. It made her feel heavy, pulled into the mattress, sinking ever downward as the room expanded all around.

She was momentarily blinded by a pure bright light. After blinking several times, she opened her eyelids to a completely different world. It looked like an infinite white plane and a sky stretching out in all directions. She had made it to the Subconscious, though the lack of reference points was disorienting. She still had a sense of up and down, but everything else looked like an infinite white backdrop.

She looked down at her body. Her dingy prisoner's garb had been replaced with a fine white dress, similar to the ones she used to wear in Angkor. Often, the mind borrowed from familiar memories as it formed its manifestation in the Subconscious. The soft fabric felt incredibly real—even comfortable—though in fact it was all in her mind. For a moment, she felt like she had her freedom back.

Suddenly, she noticed a man in the distance, slowing approaching. He looked like Kane in every way, except that he was dressed in brown civilian clothes. He wore a wide open tunic, exposing a well-defined chest. She had no way of knowing whether it was a persona or a deviant without first asking a few questions.

One thing she had to be careful not to say was Kane's real name. One of the rules of navigating the Subconscious was that the host's name caused the patient to reawaken. It made sense, since people tended to detect the sound of their own name, even when in the presence of noise or while their mind was preoccupied. If Rosa caused Kane to reawaken, she would instantly be thrown out of his Subconscious. It was not a dangerous threat, but one she could not invoke until her work was complete.

"Hello," she politely offered to the man while wearing her most casual smile. "What's your name?"

The Kane-clone looked her up and down. The corner of his mouth upturned and his eyes flared flirtatiously. "Why hello, beautiful. This must be my lucky day."

His carefree words boasted of confidence. With a grin, the Kane-like person swaggered toward her. But she wondered … was this a persona giving her an innocent compliment … or a deviant with much darker desires? It almost felt like he was undressing her with his eyes, which was worrying … but she tried to maintain her composure. The last thing she wanted was to appear frightened in front of a deviant; they fed on such behaviors.

"Would you tell me your name, please? I need to know your name."

He put an arm around her shoulder, whispering close to her ear. She felt his warm breath, as real as any human's. "There's plenty of time for that later, babe."

It gave her the creeps. She shivered all over and took several steps back. Personas did not normally interact so intimately. It seemed a telling sign that she might be facing a deviant. She could not risk him turning aggressive.

"I'm sorry," she stated kindly but firmly, "but I'm looking for someone else."

The persona raised his brows, looking from side to side sheepishly. "But I don't see anyone else here. Is there something wrong with me?"

Behind the innocent face, Rosa sensed a hint of impatience … and anger.

"Of course not." She forced her voice to sound at ease, hoping to humor him. She was well aware of her vulnerabilities.

"Good," he crept ever closer. "I just want to get to know you."

He placed his hand on her waist and pulled.

"No!" she insisted. "I don't want to."

She tried to wriggle free, but he already had a tight grip. With his other hand, he grabbed her shoulder and forced her to the ground.

She panicked, trying to pull herself away, but she quickly felt the weight of a full-grown man on top of her. He shifted his grip to her wrists, squeezing tightly … painfully. She yelped, but he did not stop … not even slow down. Wrenching her right hand free, she slapped him hard across the face. He winced for a moment, then grinned sadistically.

"I'm going to enjoy this," he threatened, bringing his hand to her exposed leg.

She screamed, kicking and struggling to break free. But he was stronger, more determined, with muscles twice her size all directed at subduing her. She thought about her only lifeline. She needed only to call out Kane's name, and she would disappear from his Subconscious entirely.

It was tempting. She wanted more than anything to be free from this terror. It was a simple word that would instantly bring her to safety, but she fought against her urge to use it. There would be no second chances!

So she twisted and squirmed, struggling to free her hands from his vice-like grip. His free hand squeezed her thigh, creeping ever upward, dangerously close to violating her …. She screamed again!

Suddenly, another presence approached from behind. Without hesitating, it wrenched the deviant off of her and tossed him aside. Rosa scrambled to her feet, instinctively putting a safe distance between her and her attacker, as well as the second mystery man.

Ordinarily, she would have been happy to thank her rescuer, another copy of Kane dressed in Templar's armor with a black patch over one eye. But she could not be sure that it was not another deviant. She was now much more hesitant to trust this facsimile.

"Get out of here," the second man threatened. "You know you're not supposed to harm the prisoner!"

Rosa gasped. Somehow, this man knew who she was. It was unusual for members of the Subconscious to know about people from the outside world, but there were exceptions. Kane must have formed a strong mental connection with his Subconscious.

The deviant glared back at the Templar with such intense hatred that it sent chills up Rosa's spine. He spat in the Templar's direction.

"Fine!"

As the deviant stormed off, Rosa watched his body slowly fade away into the cold white void. The Templar shook his head before offering Rosa a chivalrous hand.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Rosa's whole body shook, and her breathing came in fast and erratic. She still felt the ghost of a thumb print near enough her groin to leave her weak in the knees. But beyond the emotional trauma, she did not appear to be injured.

"I'm fine," she responded, trying to pull herself together. It was not easy, but the immediate threat was gone, and she still had work to do. "Who was that? And if you don't mind me asking, could you please tell me your name as well?"

Her voice was shaky. She also kept her distance, now much more careful about getting too close.

The Kane look-alike did not waver in his professional demeanor. "I am Honor. And the one who attacked you is called Desire."

Rosa shuddered. Desire represented a person's carnal instinct to take what they wanted. Every man had this deviant. That was the sad truth about mental states. People had ugly sides, as well as the capacity to harm others. However, most men kept their emotions firmly under control. Rosa knew not to take it personally, but she wondered if she could ever face Kane in the real world again without at least some level of fear and distrust.

Honor regarded her impatiently. "Why are you here?"

Rosa snapped to attention. Honor was certainly a safe persona, but he tended to dislike visitors from the outside. This was due to his strong sense of duty. Visiting wizards were usually considered a distraction.

She tried to come up with a satisfying response. "I came here to help. This world is clearly out of balance, and you appear injured." She pointed to the patch covering his left eye.

Honor grunted. "It's an old wound. You can't help with it."

"Please," she insisted. "I've gone through a lot of trouble to come here. If I can access the Memories, then I can trace the source of the problems and return this place to stability."

Beyond the frown and crossed arms, Honor looked hopeful. "I see. If those are what you seek, then you must go through Coping. He's the one in charge. Unfortunately, he's not been very welcoming of late … not since Despair started showing up."

Rosa thought back to her studies. Coping was not a normal persona, but one that a person conjured to deal with certain kinds of trauma. If the need arose, he would assert himself as a leader to stabilize the other personas. It made sense that he would want to protect the Memories. There had to be something important hidden down there, and Rosa was certain it held the key to her escape!

The other, Despair, was an especially dangerous deviant that could represent a number of different scenarios. Some forms of Despair appeared when there was a great loss, or an object of significance that the host believed was unobtainable in the real world. In Kane's case, it might have to do with the loss of his friendship with Bram.

Of course, in darker instances, Despair sometimes appeared when a person contemplated suicide. Speaking with Despair was dangerous to the psyche, so Rosa needed to avoid him at all costs. Instead, she would seek Coping and ask him about the other personas. He was supposed to be an authority on all things within the Subconscious.

She asked Honor if he would lead her to Coping.

The persona hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "If you think you can help, then I will take you to him. We'll have to go the long way, however. We can't risk letting the others see you."

Rosa's breath caught, thinking he might be referring to the deviants. "Which others?"

Honor's eyes narrowed and his face darkened. He was clearly hesitant to divulge any new information, but Rosa tried to convince him.

"I know you may see me as a prisoner, but I truly want to help. Deep down, you must know that I'm telling the truth."

Honor took a deep breath. When he let it out, it seemed to release so much pent-up angst. "Very well. You're sure to find out, eventually. There are some who have decided to wage war. Many have tried to stop them; many have failed. That's why Coping erected some walls for protection."

Rosa was aghast. Personas were sometimes known to build walls to protect themselves from trauma, but it was quite rare to hear of deviants waging war. Deviants were confrontational, sure, but they usually only provoked and instigated the personas. They hardly ever engaged in violence.

"Who—?"

"Come and see for yourself," Honor cut her off, once again looking impatient.

Rosa was willing to back down for now. Honor clearly did not want to waste time describing the deviants when he could have been leading her to her destination.

So she followed the helpful persona while trying to piece together the clues gathered so far. Given Honor's injury and the fact that he wandered by himself made for some intriguing hypotheses. Perhaps Kane felt that something bound him to his service to Samuel … something important, but which conflicted with his other emotions. As for the old injury, perhaps Kane had an important event in which his honor was tarnished. She had to find out more, but for now she followed the persona through the empty white world.

After a few minutes of walking in empty space, she started to see the first discernable feature. It appeared like a column of smoke in the distance.

"What's that, over there?" she wondered.

"It's their camp," Honor explained. "The others. They keep the fire burning as a warning to the rest of us. We keep our distance."

The deviants! Rosa felt chills. "Do you know their names?"

Honor nodded. "Hatred, Fear, Vengeance, Rage … they've been waging war on the compound for quite some time. You must never go there."

Rosa agreed. Based on her encounter with Desire, she planned to keep her distance.

Honor continued to lead her in a wide arc around the camp until a large stone fortress emerged out of the whiteness. It was unusual to see structures of any kind within the Subconscious, much less something on such a grand scale. The ambient light cast no shadows, which created an eerily bold yet static presence against the empty white backdrop. It was an enormous structure made of stunning sandstone bricks. In the real world, it would have been the envy of any city desiring the best protection.

"Coping is inside of that?" Rosa asked.

"Yes," Honor confirmed, "along with his last remaining allies."

Last remaining allies? As she pondered what this meant, she was momentarily distracted by the lack of any apparent entrance to the fortress. "Wait—how do I get inside?"

Honor's face was rigid. "I did not promise to help you with that."

Rosa felt slighted. "What? You brought me all this way, only to stop here?"

The persona scowled. "I do not coexist well with those inside of the compound. We are not enemies, but I have agreed to remain out here. Besides … you claimed to want to help. If Coping believes you, he will allow you inside."

Rosa gritted her teeth. At least Honor had been helpful, albeit a bit misleading. She thanked the persona for the escort and marched towards the fortress.

It was clear by now that there was more to Kane than just a person driven by Selfishness or Greed. His Subconscious appeared to be in equilibrium, though just barely, and only because his personas had gone through a lot of trouble to keep it that way. Somewhere along the line, Kane must have experienced some incredible trauma.

The fortress itself appeared to be well-guarded, but that was just an illusion. The structure was no more than a mental projection—a prop created by the imaginary constructs of Kane's mind. While the personas and deviants would treat it as real, Rosa was not bound by the same rules. If her knowledge about the Subconscious was correct, she ought to be able to pass right through.

She tested it first with her hand. Sure enough, the mighty brick walls were as ethereal as the rest of the empty world. She took a deep breath and stepped forward.

Passing through solid brick and mortar created a disorienting visual. It was as if the brain refused to process the composition of the material and instead produced a blizzard of random sensory input. She eventually emerged into a busy hallway, half-dizzy from the experience. Personas in the likeness of Kane quickly stopped their urgent duties to gather around her.

"What are you doing here?" a voice demanded crossly from her side.

"It's a wizard!" another persona gasped.

Rosa's head whipped from side to side. On one end, a persona dressed in magistrate's robes strutted forward, its arms crossed. She doubted that Kane owned such clothes in the real world, but that did not matter when it came to personas. It simply meant that Kane thought of judges whenever it came to this particular emotion.

On the other side stood a rather plain-looking Kane with short hair and simple clothes. Everything about this second persona looked neat and tidy. The shirt and pants were pressed, as if straight from the steam cleaner.

"I'm sorry for intruding," Rosa apologized to both personas, holding up her hands in a non-threatening manner. "I came here to help. Can you please tell me your names?"

"I am Prudence," the persona in magistrate's robes stated. His voice resounded with perfect diction, though it also sounded somewhat irked. "And I don't care why you came. You're not welcome here."

The other tidy-looking persona stepped forward, his voice far meeker. "There's no need to treat this wizard so harshly, Prudence. I think we should hear her out, first. Madam, I'm Patience."

"I need to speak with Coping," Rosa insisted. "I understand you have injured here. All I want to do is—"

Rosa was caught off-guard by the presence of a third man who had snuck up behind her. She tried to react, but not quickly enough. The man grabbed her arms and held them behind her back.

She felt her panic return, fearful that yet another deviant had her in his grasp. She screamed.

"You may release her, Security," Prudence stated calmly.

"Don't you recognize her?" the one called Security argued, his voice gruff and surly. He loosened his grip, but he did not let go. "She's the prisoner, and she's dangerous. She might hurt someone."

"I've come here peacefully," Rosa insisted, eager to free her arms. "I swear!"

"Now hold on here," Patience suggested. "She came through the walls all on her own and could have cast spells on us already, if she wanted to. I think we should all calm down and listen. She might be able to explain herself."

The one named Prudence rolled his eyes. "You're always so trusting, Patience. Let's say we do it your way. We'll hear her story first, then we'll pass judgment." He faced Rosa with his mouth and nose scrunched in a scrutinizing manner. "So tell us, Prisoner. You came here claiming to want to help, but we have no reason to trust you. So state your reasons."

Rosa looked over her shoulder to the persona named Security. Prudence gave him a nod and he released her. Although she felt utterly intimidated—with all her instincts making her want to run away and hide—she tried to remain calm. Prudence had asked her a reasonable question, and he would not tolerate anything less than a convincing and honest answer.

Of course, in truth her primary motive was to escape her imprisonment, not necessarily to help the man who had done so much harm to her and Bram. Of course, it would not be very helpful to admit that to the personas. She had to examine her conscience and see why she would ever want to help Kane. Perhaps, it was because he was a human being in need. Surely she could look past his evil deeds and see a man who had suffered through some traumatic ordeals. Maybe she would be willing to help him out of the goodness of her heart.

With that answer in mind, she spoke truthfully. "My ethics as a medical professional compel me."

Prudence squinted as he considered her answer. "Does it, now?"

Rosa looked to each of the personas, who seemed rather skeptical of her answer. She wondered what else she could say to convince them.

"Let me through," demanded a voice in a distance. "I want to speak with the so-called prisoner."

Another persona entered their circle with a stature more commanding and orderly than the others. He was clean-shaven and well-groomed, wearing a commander's uniform from the Angkorian army. His eyes were also different … more intelligent and aware. He seemed to have an air of knowledge and control that surpassed the other personas.

"Rosa Reynolds … how on Gaia did you manage to get here?"

Rosa gasped. The personas were not supposed to know her by name. Certainly, they understood that she was a prisoner from the real world, but that kind of information was general enough to be passed down through the psyche. It was something quite different to comprehend names and identities! This persona must have had an unusually strong symbiotic relationship with its host. Clearly, it had to be Coping.

She was ready to begin her plea. "You must be Coping. I came to help—"

"I am," the leader of the personas cut her off, "but somehow, I doubt you're being entirely honest."

"She claims to be following her ethics as a white wizard," Prudence explained. "There may be more to it, but she certainly hasn't used her powers to attack us yet. I've therefore judged that she presents only a limited threat."

Coping looked her up and down. His eyes were shrewd and calculating. "How wrong you are, Prudence. The Eternal One feels strongly that she can't be trusted. It would be unwise to allow her to remain here."

"Please," Rosa insisted. She was sure the Eternal One referred to Kane himself. Somehow, Coping must be attuned with Kane's feelings for her. Nevertheless, she stood straight, aiming to assert her full authority.

"It's true that the Eternal One did not ask for me. Even so, He still needs my help. If you'd only allow me to view the Memories, I believe that I can set things right."

The persona's eyes narrowed. "That's the last thing we need! Do you have any idea how the Eternal One feels about you? If He even suspected that you were here …."

Rosa's heart skipped a beat. Somehow, this persona knew some private truths about Kane that she was eager to learn. But first she had to convince him to let her stay. It seemed the right time to take a risk. In all the literature she had read, personas granted a wider latitude to wizards offering their skills in healing. While she had no direct magical skills due to the anti-magic field, perhaps she could bluff her way to the Memories and fix things once she learned the truth about Kane's past.

"You may see me as a prisoner, but I'm also a friend. I'll prove it, too. My powers of white magic are essential to restoring peace to this world. If you truly knew anything about me, you'd know that my word means something."

Coping paused for a long moment, as if taking his time to consider it. He then approached and pushed Rosa hard on her chest. It came as a complete surprise, causing her to lose her footing immediately. With arms flailing, she fell backwards with a hard thud. The impact hurt as much as it would have in the real world. She stared back, eyes wide open, her backside throbbing. She wondered why this persona had suddenly attacked her, and whether she had to defend herself. But Coping merely looked down wearing a look of complete satisfaction.

"It's just as I thought," he stated smugly. "You're not only a prisoner … you're also still in your prison cell! Your magic is useless here, and so is your word."

Rosa felt the blood drain from her face. Coping's simple deduction had completely destroyed her credibility. She fumbled for her words.

"I—I didn't claim that I would need my magic to help you. I meant that I'm very experienced in this field, and I can help regardless!"

Coping ignored her. "Security, please escort this young woman off the premises."

Security once again tried to restrain her arm, but she shook herself free.

"No!" She was determined. "You can't shut me out! I can help you. You need me!"

Security went again for her wrist, this time successfully. In moments, he had both her hands held tightly behind her back. She was filled with panic, worried that all her plans were about to unravel and she would soon be forced out of the Subconscious. Coping already looked as if he were losing interest as he refocused his attention on the other personas. This was her last chance. She had to take a risk!

"Coping!" Her shrill tone got the persona's attention. "I've seen the deviants at the campsite. Hatred, Rage, and many others are plotting an attack. They'll come here, sooner or later, and when they do, Despair will join them. If they ever realize that your walls are fake, this world is finished!"

The other personas looked at one another in fear and confusion. They must have no idea about the walls. Coping had fooled them all. The truth was Rosa's weapon, and she would use it to cut deep.

Coping looked outraged. His lips pressed tightly together and his chin quivered. "They won't! I've made sure these walls cannot be breached!"

"They aren't even real!" Now it was Rosa's turn to wear the smug grin, and she was ready to drive her point home. "Let me inside the Memories, so that I can determine why this world is so troubled. You have nothing to fear by letting me inside, and everything to lose by refusing me. I just need to see. Please!"

Coping bared his teeth. "Nothing to fear? Do you not realize that the Eternal One will see the same memories as you? Do you know what it would do to Him?" The persona looked pale, stricken with fear.

"What is it?" Rosa demanded. "What's hidden down there?"

"Things best left buried," Coping insisted. "And I'll not have you messing around blindly! Security … remove her from my sight."

The persona restraining her wrists gave a sharp tug. Rosa knew she had to be bold or else all her efforts would be wasted. She summoned her courage ….

"Wait! If you throw me out … I'll go to the deviants!"

All four personas stopped short, their faces contorted with terror.

"You wouldn't!" Prudence shrieked.

"You've left me no choice," Rosa threatened. "You're right about me. I've lied. I'm not here to help this world, but to free myself from captivity. I won't go out of my way to hurt anyone, but if you block me from accessing the Memories, I'll have no choice but to buy my escape by destroying this world completely!"

Security's grip tightened. "Wretched wizard! We've been too kind to you. I'll make sure you leave here and never come back!"

"Wait!" Coping approached, peering deep inside Rosa's eyes. "I see her desperation. She's prepared to carry out her threat."

He continued to study her. "If I take you to the Memories, do I have your word that you'll leave here peacefully once you find what you're looking for, and never come back?"

Rosa felt a surge of excitement. "Yes, I promise."

Coping's cold demeanor did not relent. "Then follow me. Security … release her."

The persona behind Rosa released his grip. She rubbed her wrists, sure by now that she would feel some bruising later.

"Now go back to your jobs," Coping instructed to the gathered personas. "I'll take care of this."

Prudence, Security, and the other personas dispersed, leaving Rosa with their ashen-colored leader. She regretted her threat already. The coercion was effective, but it made her feel like she had stooped to a lower level, one she had previously hoped to avoid. Coping glared at her a moment longer, then stormed off through the great hall of the compound, leaving her to scurry after him.

As she traveled, she noticed that the compound did not so much appear like a military fortress as it did a hospital. Rows of beds lined the walls, each with an injured persona.

She heard a sigh escape Coping's chest. The persona hung his head, looking like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"I want you to look at this," he said as he waved his arm to the many Kane look-alikes suffering in their cots. They looked injured, miserable, in pain. Some of them cried out, which got the attention of a few nurses—or, at least, personas that had taken on the role of nurses.

"That one over there is Friendship. And these are Honesty, Kindness, and Compassion. We all hope they get better soon, but I don't hold out much hope."

Rosa's spirits plunged as she saw the sorry states of Kane's psyche. Clearly, Coping's false walls were the only thing keeping things functional. It was clear the personas did not have the strength to survive a war with the deviants. She feared what she might find deep inside the Memories. Just viewing them could add a fatal amount of stress to an already fragile system.

"I'm sorry," she felt herself saying.

Despite all the harm that Kane had caused, Rosa started to feel sympathy for him. He was just another man suffering, and the reasons behind his behaviors would soon be exposed. A part of Rosa felt it was worth solving these mysteries. Although she wanted to be free from her captivity more than anything, she felt she could help at the same time. It was perhaps a foolish idea, but one that had always led her down the right path before.

Coping shook his head. His voice was distant. "It's just a matter of time before this place is finished."

"But what about all you said earlier?" Rosa argued. "You sounded so confident. I even offered my help and you refused it."

Coping let out a deep breath. He then looked from side to side, as if making sure his words would be out of earshot. "I said what I had to say in order to maintain morale … but we've been fighting for a long time. We're tired. Perhaps after being broken so many times, I had begun to suspect there was no more good left in the world. Perhaps that's why I stopped caring."

Rosa wondered if she were still talking to a persona at this point, or if Coping had somehow channeled Kane's deepest feelings. This persona seemed so human, and she had been cruel to him. Her words might have achieved what she wanted, but she wondered about what would happen afterward. She did not want to be responsible for destroying the delicate balance that Coping had maintained for so long. Earlier that day, she would have been happy to see Kane receive judgment for all the misery he had caused, but now it felt wrong to want to see this Subconscious fall into ruin. She was better than that.

She wanted to tell Coping how she felt and assure him that she would do her best to restore balance—that she would prove herself in the end. But Coping was already reaching for a doorknob to Rosa's left.

When he opened it, bright flashes of light erupted from within. The room's center was a swirling maelstrom of starry lights and fog. The gateway to the Memories spun and twisted, casting dancing shadows on the walls. An unnatural wind blew fiercely, forcing her to brush away strands of her hair that blew across her face.

"Here you are," Coping stated succinctly. "I assume you know what to do when you're finished?"

Rosa nodded. Just like in the Subconscious, her escape route from the Memories would be to call out Kane's name.

"Good. Then as was agreed, I shall return to my duties. I don't expect to see any more of you going forward. Understood?"

"Yes, agreed," Rosa promised. "I'll do what I can. Thank you."

Coping nodded, though he still looked skeptical. Words would not be enough to sway him. She would have to prove herself. Before she knew it, she was alone at the doorway. Coping had disappeared.

She took a deep breath. The wind and lights represented fears and doubts circling around Kane's inner remembrances. Somewhere deep inside, he resisted her entry. She could feel his presence trying to block her … to push her away.

But she would not give up. She had already come this far and was intent on persevering. With all her strength, she pushed past the invisible barriers, shielding her face from the strong gusts of wind and fog. Sparks of magical energy emanating from the inside, burning her as they touched her exposed skin. But still, she forced her way closer. When she reached the center of the maelstrom, everything went black.