Chapter 23

Time To Meet

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Ah, I love siesta ve ~

Feliciano, having just settled into his hammock, was already drifting into a pleasant dream. With every breeze, the hammock ropes creaked against the two willows that supported it and rocked back and forth. Overhead birds sung and pixies flitted through the glimmers of sunlight that pierced the emerald-colored canopy.

This was the life.

A smell of rose and lavender made his nose twitch; it reminded him of someone from a long time ago. Alfred was like her in many ways. Same scent; same love of life. Hopefully not the same tragic end.

Something rustled in the leaves and grass nearby. The air temperature plummeted and shadow passed over his shut eyes. Popping them open, he sat up in alarm, rubbing at his forearms, all the hair raised on them. Tensed, his eyes scanned around for something they could not see.

He was not alone.

"Feliciano!" came a melodious voice that caused him to jump in a alarm.

"I didn't skip on... oh, my Lady," he said, surprised and relieved. "It's an hon-"

She held up an arm to stop him and said in a voice tinged with urgency, "Did it come through here?"

"Did what, my Lady?" Feliciano asked, stifling a yawn. Why did everything always interrupt his siestas?

"That thing was here. You are fortunate," she said. As her eyes narrowed a subtle inner glow in their iris made her whites stand out. Heat radiated off her. "A ghost came through here."

"Mama mia!" He yelped, falling backwards out of his hammock. No sooner did he spill onto the ground then he had crawled behind a tree, white flag already in either hand. "Where? Where did it go?"

She cleared her throat, tilted her head to one side, her hair fell over her shoulder like a golden waterfall. His gaze followed where she was staring. Blushing from head to toe, he apologized profusely as he pulled the hem of his down to cover his privates.
"P-pardon my Lady. It's just during siestas my ravioli loves the fresh air."

"I'd rather I did not know that," she said, looking away until Feliciano had donned his pants.

"Is it gone? The spirit?" He asked, eyeing everywhere. His bruised forehead throbbed where he had smacked it earlier on a branch while attempting to flee Arthur.

"It got away," The Lady said, her eyes narrowing and her face growing grim as she stared around. "It's only seems like a breeze, but it is more. I detected it earlier when Al went to the gardens. It was trying to reach him."

"It's after him?"

"I believe it's been following him. Likely since he set foot in the woods outside the Fairyland. I have often felt its presence the past few years but never has it so brazenly tried to enter." Her face darkened, but the air cooled as she retracted her power.

"Does it know him?"

She glanced at Feliciano and he took that as a, "Probably."

"Can you stop it?"

"I can keep it out of here, but I'm more curious why. It is so persistent. It takes a great risk coming here. I sense," She paused, frowning, "A familiarity."

He tilted his head, "Who?"

"I cannot be sure," She replied, "But it keeps trying to reach Alfred and it reminds me of her."

He gulped hard, shock filling him. "Her? She's haunting him? But that would mean...," He trailed off, the thought too terrible to ponder.

"I always assumed after seeing Alfred in that condition that great tragedy had befallen her, but that she would go so far. That she would do that," She said, shaking her head.

"Please. Not her. Not that," Felciano said, clutching his white flags harder. A nervous habit. "Should we tell Alfred?"

"Of what? First, he wouldn't remember and second... second I'm not sure. It's only a suspicion."

"I wish there was a way to break it. The spell," He clarified at her confused expression. "Like he did before, I mean."

She frowned and said, "But he never broke the spell before."

"But then... how... I mean. I'm so confused," He said, his brow fully furrowed in concentration. My siesta.

"The spell wore off when he left this place, but it never went fully went away," She clarified. "The moment he set foot here again, it was already coming back. The apples only accelerated what was already occurring."

He tilted his head in confusion, remarking, "But what's that have to do with him not remembering here?"

"Everything," She answered, "Because he stopped eating the food of here, but never broke the spell, it instead took all his memories of this place."

"So he just woke up a blank slate out there?" When Summer nodded, saying, "Probably," He continued rapid-fire, "But that must have been so scary. Why did he leave at all? Better yet, how could he leave at all? Doesn't the fruit prevent that? Why does the fruit of the Fae do that to humans? I've never understood."

"One question at a time, please," She said, holding up a palm. "In regards to your last, I don't know why it does that. That is General Autum's domain, but I do know, as well as you do, that it was never intended for human consumption. It only meant as a gift to allow the Fae to dream like humans."

Feliciano had heard that answer before, but always he hoped for a better one. That one never satisfied his curiosity, but Lady Summer has she just reminded him was not the one to ask about it. Eternals were never very knowledgeable about anything outside their area. Lady Summer used to be the most curious among them, but not anymore. She had changed. After what happened, who wouldn't? He shook the thought away, not wanting to remember those terrible times when it all went wrong.

"What if we keep him from eating it? Would it wear off again?"

"Deny him here? He'd go mad wanting to eat it. That would be too cruel. Remember what happened when you tried to deny Arthur the fruit?" Feliciano shivered at that memory.

"Well, what if we throw him back into that world. It wore off before."

"It would be worse this time. Because he would again awaken a blank slate, but now full-grown with absolutely no idea of how he got there."

"Wait, he wouldn't get back all his other memories? The ones he had before returning?"

"Unlikely," She replied, "Once taken, they stay taken by the spell. If we threw him out, he would wake up confused and with no idea of where he was or who he was. All of his memories locked away. All of them."

Feliciano gulped hard and let that sink in. "Nothing? Nothing will come back now?"

"Not until he breaks the spell," She explained. "Until then he must remain here. At least here he is safe and has some of his memories."

"Poor Alfred," He said, his lip trembling a little. It's so sad. "He's fighting it so hard. Maybe, he'll break it sooner than the others."

"In my eons of experiences, no human or part-fairy as human as Alfred has ever broken that spell in less than a century. And by then, they could not leave the forest without aging rapidly."

"But it's not fair."

"No, it's not," She agreed.

"I still don't get one thing though. If he never broke the spell, how did he leave at all?"

"That's what I want to know," She said, scanning their surroundings with a suspicious glare, "I am sure of one thing though. He had help."

"That spirit?"

"Perhaps."

"Does Alfred remember leaving?"

"Very little. Something about a figure in white leading him away."

"White?" Feliciano repeated and paled, his voice shrinking to a whisper. He licked his lips, trying to wet them, "But it can't be! She wouldn't do that! Why would she do that? Why would she lure her son away into such danger? Ghost or not, she wouldn't!"

"Not even Winter understood how the dead think in that state," Summer replied, continuing, "And if it is her, then I'm sure she had her reason."

"Like what?"

"The brother."

"The who?" She gave him a flat look and then Felician's eyes widened as he remembered. I can't remember his original name for the life of me. Arthur probably renamed him too. "Oh yeah, wait is he alive? You know given his condition."

"From stuff Arthur said and from some things I've noticed about Alfred, I would say yes. For now, but if Alfred stays here long-term or had stayed all those years ago, I think we can both surmise what would have or will happen to the other one."

"Then he can't stay."

"But he can't leave."

"This is terrible!" Feliciano said, clutching at his temples. "We have to do something!" After siesta, he almost added though he was riled up to almost forgo on it. Almost.

"At this point, I too am at a lost for what to do. We can only watch and pray for a miracle."

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Alfred was having a nightmare. He knew it, but he could not wake or stop it. Figures stood at a distance in a fog, one that occasionally retreated enough for him to see one of them. Always their faces seemed to look at him with hurt and longing, their eyes felt accusing as if asking, Why? Why did you forget us?

I don't know! He tried to scream, but he had not voice.

They cannot communicate with the dead by spoken word. That dead-pan voice was familiar, but the owner drifted away like the memory.

A girl with pigtails tied by blue ribbons appeared out of the fog and then receded back into it. Another face, a shy boy, with violet-eyes that kept looking away, refusing to meet his also came forward and then melted back into the mist. On and on, it went until one came, a tall man with lonely eyes that almost glowed purple, stepped forward.

"Sunflower" He whispered, reaching a hand to Alfred. Alfred found himself reaching back, but something was pulling them apart. An invisible barrier that dragged them back out of Alfred's vision and held Alfred away from them.

He heard them laughing, whispering in the fog, but he could only make out a word every now and then. Sometime an eerie giggle would bubble out, but they could not hear him and he could not remember them.

He fell to his knees, clutching at his face, wanting to cry. "Why? Why can't I?" He yelled voicelessly.

"Because you are under a spell, stupid," Came a high-pitched voice like the the whine of an insect or the screech of metal rubbing against metal. It almost hurt to hear but wasn't all that unpleasant. It also was somehow monotonous, yet somehow not. Like an alien speaker who knew the grammar of English perfectly, but didn't understand the intonations of it.

He looked around the endless white he was trapped in and then toward the fog. "Hello?" He said timidly and though he heard nothing in his ears, the voice responded.

"Yeah?" It said again almost like it was coming from all around him. Or inside my head. He shivered at the thought.

"Who are you?"

"Who am I? Who am I?" It repeated, sounding annoyed, "I'm the fuckin' boogyman. Who the fuck do you think I am?"

"God?"

"That wasn't a question. Enough of this. Listen, up it's time we meet."

"Artie, says I'm not supposed to meet with strangers."

"What are you eight?"

"Yes."

"Oh, for fuck's sake. That fuckin' limey! Get the fuck up! We're meeting now."

"But-."

Alfred jolted awake, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the surroundings of his bedroom. Did I just get cussed out in my dream? What was with all the adult words, wait - I'm an adult! I can use those words too! What's a limey?

His eyes fixed on the chair in the right corner of his room, or on his jacket that was carelessly tossed over the chair. Something was calling him, drawing him, and he slowly he slid out of bed, walking toward it. The window above it was nothing but a circle that showed outside. Right now the full moon had just risen and was pouring light into his room, just touching the top of the jacket, casting it in a velvety blue.

Alfred held his breath, crouching down, he reached into the left pocket, finding something wooden, he pulled out a circular object with a net in its middle. A dreamcatcher. The word just came to him and he knew that's what this was.

He held it up it up into the moonlight, only meaning to get a better look, but the moment the light touched it, the device became to hum and glow with a silvery light. The name TONY lit up in purple at the top and Alfred collapsed to the floor with a thump.

By all appearances, he looked asleep, curled around the dreamcatcher, but in truth, Alfred was now very far away.

(End of Chapter 23. Alfred finds himself in a strange world, faced by an even stranger being. Stayed tuned for Chapter 24: The Alien)