Hi all, and a very warm welcome to our brand-new chapter!
Thank you all so much for sticking around for my little break. I’m feeling much better - stuff dealt with. And I once again have room in my small bottle of a brain for the embers of this fantasy, so buckle up.
This whole chapter has a bunch of short scenes and is kind of themed - you’ll see by the brand-new graphics that there are strings attached. I’d love it if you could let me know when you spot them.
INDEX | Chapter 5 | Scenes 1 & 2 | Next Scene →
Previously… After four years in a coma, Elle inexplicably started to deteriorate. Luke was convinced that he could save her if only she would wake, and so he and Logan embarked on a quest to enter Elle’s dreamworld, in hopes of helping her find her way out of it. But lost little Elle seemed to sense Luke’s errant emotions, causing a fair amount of distrust. Will the guys be successful?
“Ugh! My head!” I mumble, raising my right hand to rub my eyes. Luke is at my bedside, reading, but he puts his tab aside on the cabinet close by and smiles at me.
“How are you feeling, Son?” He asks earnestly.
“Like I’ve just crawled out of a vat of absinthe,” I grumble recalling the hangover from that experience, as I push myself upright on the table. He must have undone the restraints as I am unencumbered.
“Here,” He says, handing me a glass of iced water. I take it from him gratefully and sip, resisting the urge to drain it, lest it set off the all too familiar nausea.
“I’m sorry. I’ve kept you hydrated, and it’s been a few hours so the drugs should be mostly out of your system, but there will be a bit of a lag as you come down.”
“What did you give me?” I ask, absently.
“A cocktail, lysergic acid diethylamide, opium, a little phenobarbitol, and a balancer to allow it to interface with your Manorian system, to suppress higher brain function, open you up to my guidance, and your own instincts.”
“That was supposed to be rhetorical.” I clear my throat and pluck out the IV, dizzily swinging my legs over the edge.
“You’re going to want to take it slow for a while,” Luke says, standing up to support me as I step onto the ground. I look back at Elle. There doesn’t seem to be any change.
“That could take some time too.” He says, a little sadly, “I believe we were successful. Her vitals have been steadily improving.” He smiles, a sort of frowning smile.
“How soon will we know?” I ask, hopefully.
“There’s no way to tell. For now all we can do is wait.”
I nod. For some reason, I have an irrepressible urge to put as much distance between us as possible, right now all I want is out.
“Son,” Luke calls me back as I walk to the door, “Thank you. You saved her life.”
I return his smile, wordlessly, and leave, in search of my bed.
* * *
“Three weeks to go hey?!" Luke pats Tom on the back as he enters our little construction site office at the bottom of the manor’s back garden.
"Excited?" He asks, exuding pride as he looks out. The medieval-style gauntlet Tom and I are building for our twentieth birthday party is finally starting to take shape, complete with giant swinging clubs, a moat, and a double mu-rem-Zhuang of rotating spikes sharp enough to rip out someone’s entrails.
"Not really.” I shrug gazing out the open door, “There's still so much to do." It is sunset already and the late summer wind is picking up. Tom and I toss our hardhats onto the blueprints on the solitary desk in unison with a double clunk. I run my hand through my sweat-damp hair, grinning broadly as Luke appraises the array and the pile of about a hundred ready-cut logs laid out to plant the next section. He told us two months ago we could use as many redwoods as we want from the three thousand hectare plantation surrounding the manor, as long as we see to all of it ourselves. My back and shoulders have never been so toned.
"You still going to see Elle before dinner?" Luke asks me on the way to his shuttle. He must have just come from the hospital.
"Of course, it's the anniversary today," Tom answers for me, laughing as he slides coolly into the pilot seat. I shake my head, slipping into the engineering dock without closing the main door, letting the breeze blow through the hull.
* * *
Elle's chest rises and falls, once again in a steady rhythm, her cheeks are rosy and her lips are full and moist. If you watch long enough you can even see her eyes moving in their dream cycles, but she's been like this for a month now. Luke says there’s no reason she shouldn’t wake. Her body and mind should be back to synchronicity, which would mean that she’s no longer locked in. Of course, it isn’t like he can pop back in and check like he would on anyone else. For better or worse, Elle’s mind is still out of his reach.
It took me a week to scrounge up the courage to come see her after our little confab. I knew Luke would tell me the minute she woke so it didn’t matter if I was there or not.
I’m still not sure if it was her I was avoiding or Luke. I was overwhelmed and exhausted. I was angry with Luke. I wanted to confront him about taking advantage of me. I wanted to castigate him for interfering while I was inside Elle’s head. I wanted to even just talk about how it went, knowing that he knew and I knew and we both saw little Elle there in that empty wasteland, lost - afraid, and it wasn’t all just a drug-induced dream, but I couldn’t face him. The next time he saw me, he offered, practically begged me to talk with him about it. I didn’t, and then nothing happened, and well, life goes on.
She seems to be doing better now, at least. I stand here at the foot of her hospital bed, silently thinking about those two weeks before she literally blew up and all that’s happened in the past four years and I can't get over how she's growing. It’s hard to believe one can form a real attachment in such a short time, never mind, under such strained circumstances, but here I am, taking stock as if she really is family.
Her arms and legs are longer, her shoulders broader; even her hair, neatly braided and lying on top of the covers is still ankle length. It is so dark it drinks all the light that touches it, reflecting only a slight glimmer in a pool of shadow. Her muscles seem to have bounced back. Luke says her bone structure, now puts her a little over twelve. She still looks like a doll, with perfect milky skin, and not one scar, anywhere.
A faint beeping breaks through my heavy dreams and I slowly start to notice that there is a world outside my own memories. It is quiet and the air is warm and filled with the scent of clean linen. I feel rested, heavy, and strangely comfortable and at first, nothing else matters. How long has it been since I last felt this way? When did I last feel this good? It has to be a dream. How can it be real?
After some time, I start to wonder where I am. Curiosity gnaws at me, unanswered questions and possibilities crowding my thoughts until I can't take it anymore. Frustrating. I open my eyes to look around only to find that the room is dark. The monitor to my right casts very little light as it counts off my heartbeats. I can barely see my hands in front of my face, never mind the rest of my surroundings, so without moving, I send out an energy pulse that maps out my room. It is the same, spacious but not large, padded floor and a nice big window. The same as what exactly? The details refuse to come together. I take a deep breath, and rub my eyes, frowning. How long have I been out?
I try to think of the last thing I remember but it is all cracked and muddled, I have no sense of time. I need more information.
The layout of the rest of the building becomes clear with a stronger pulse and some large rooms take shape in my mind. Between them are many smaller ones, with faint energy signals in them. So many people. Most of them are so slight that it is hard to get a fix on their numbers, but three stand out, strong and clear.
And then I recognize Luke, Thomas and Logan. All the missing details come flooding back, all at once.
Chrys.
How long has it been?
I lay still for a long while, working through my thoughts as they quiet down.
After some time I realize I’ve stated to fidget. I need to move. Slowly sitting up in the dark, something tugs weirdly at my nose. I reach up and find a thin flexible tube. When I swallow, I can feel it going all the way down my throat. What? It seems to go right down to my stomach. I pull on the end, coughing and gagging as it snakes its way up. Euw! Finally, I manage to get all of it, and when the dry heaves settle and I feel like I can breathe again, I find more wires and tubes. I take them off, tags and clip, one by one until nothing drags along anymore and the monitor screams a steady high-pitched beeeeeeep!
Free at last. I end the annoying screech with a zap of energy, and let myself feel excited in the stillness that is so complete I can hear my own breath. I got away. I survived. I’m awake.
I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and plop down, onto the soft, plush floor and it's like stepping onto a fluffy cloud! The warm carpet's long tickling fibers tangle between my toes. I stumble twice trying to get my balance. My body feels awkward, stiff, and unfamiliar. I frown. Was the bed always so low? When I try to take a few steps, I end up tripping over my own feet and slamming hard into a cabinet, with a loud crash. My head is still a little fuzzy, but I can already feel the bruise forming on my thigh. Slow down.
I sit and run my fingers through the wooly strands before stretching out my muscles as if I were preparing for a workout. Deep breaths.
It feels so good to move, to feel alive again. I can't help but smile as stiffness finally eases. I stand up and almost automatically my feet move into the position of the first form - shoulder width apart, knees slightly bent with my hands held palms forward at my hips. Insticnt. I let my hands come up until they are level with my shoulders, move my left foot forward, and do a quarter turn to the right, easing into the second form.
Then I raise my left knee, as my right hand sweeps backward to turn my upper body for the third. No unnecessary movement. Like Teag always said, “Efficient, calculated...” Slowly I let myself go through each of the first twenty forms, reconnecting, feeling the energy flow, but not letting any of it rise to the surface. Fully in control once more.
Thanks for reading! I hope you’re enjoying following along with my Bottled Embers!
Next time… Elle has woken up, alone, in the dead of night no less than a month since Logan and Luke helped her find her way out of the dream world, and must now come to terms with having slept away years of her life. How will she react when the guys find her, and more importantly, what will they do now?
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Until next time. 👋🏻
Oh!!!! She’s awake!!! I’m so excited to see where things go from here! I love your bottled embers!
Come on Logan talk to Luke! Keeping it all in is harmful to your sanity.
When they do the waking up scene in the movie/series, I think it would look cool in night vision goggles effect.