Story [Issue 79] The Voice

[thethiefofvictory 339]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Who are you?”

 

The world is black. There is no moon, no stars in the sky. No, no - there is no sky. There is nothing. The world does not exist. Nothing does; except a being sitting opposite to me, a mere color in the void.

 

It speaks. Otherworldly, yet human. Fierce yet soft, taunting yet caring, demonic yet angelic. It feels eerily pleasant and comforting.

 

“Hello.”

 

Never before has my own voice startled me. The being is me, a reflection of my existence. In accordance to my thoughts, it morphs into a mirror, borderless, indistinct from a human. It displays me, and the infinite darkness that surrounds us.

 

I repeat my question. Three words, nine letters, fourteen characters. “Who are you?”

 

My voice is not identical to mine. It trembles and stammers. It is scared of the void it echoes in. It fears the being that shares it with me, and fears its paradoxical, self-contradicting tone.

 

The world begins to build itself before me, pixel by pixel, taunting my uncomprehending eyes with each block. Once an island is built, my eyes open to see it, and my mind wakes to know that the world existed; my eyes saw it not. It is colored in tones of grey, yet in rainbows.

 

Oh God, help me, what is this forbidding dream?

 

I begin to decipher the sight my eyes show me. I am in a room, the balcony of which overlooks an island. I can see no doors - perhaps they do not exist. The stone walls of my prison are pure gold everywhere I look. The ceiling is decorated with chandeliers, the floor with gold-painted mosaic patterns and emblems. I notice after an hour of examining that there are words inscribed on the patterns. Five more hours yield only one word out of a hundred distinct words - Peace.

 

I become aware of a hint of green on the seat opposite to mine. It is not me, not this time. It takes eons for me to figure out what this entity is. A young, I suppose, woman in a green uniform that is supposed to belong only to royalty. But this is not Victoria, no. Who is this?

 

I find myself repeating my question for the third time. It is not the world that answers my question this time - it is her voice.

 

“Emily of Laws, Queen of Peace.”

 

Mother.

 

In law.

 

How did I not recognize her? I find myself struggling to answer. Did this world devour my memory, or this dream restrict my thought?

 

“It is not our tradition to live so lavishly, Your Majesty.”

 

Upon her words, the room fades to a shade of silver, and then to white, not unlike that of a common house. The patterns and emblems remain the way they were, untouched by the voice though the world around them changes. The frown on her face erodes, leaving behind a smile.

 

My mind alerts me to its suspicion that the room may now be familiar. It takes roughly two seconds of thought for me to realise that this is the King’s chambers. And what am I doing here?

 

Oh. Of course. I’m the king.

 

“Why are you here?” I hear myself asking. Why? Why am I questioning her, the one who spared my life and allowed me to live and serve in the Palace? The one whose daughter I married? The one who brought me to the throne?

 

This is not her, is it?

 

This is a dream. No, a hallucination. And she is merely a voice, induced into my thoughts by them.

 

And yet, I trust this voice. Why?

 

“I…” she pauses for a second, and then continues, “need to talk.”

 

“Why do you expect me to sell the state’s secrets to those whom you represent?”

 

“I do not represent them. They are mistaken if they think the voice of the Queen will serve them. I may be an imposter wearing the sound of the one you see before you, and that sound may have been stolen, but I do not work for them.”

 

“You’re playing a dangerous game. Many before you have tried, and paid with blood. And maybe this is when they punish me for betraying them. And who, I wonder, is the executioner?”

 

“I cannot tell you, but you may understand. Once the dream ends.”

 

“This isn’t even a dream, is it?”

 

A tick and a curse indicates a change in the voice. No longer is it the late Queen’s, but it is still familiar. The person projecting the face before me is someone I know well. A strange feeling creeps over me - indescribable - but it tells me that this woman may be a former student of mine, from the days when I killed for… money? No. Not money.

 

“They have poisoned you. It does not kill, but it bends your mind to their will. They can control you, and they can create voices to plague you. This dream - if you will, because this is not a dream - is the initial symptom. Soon, you will be their pawn. Do not let that happen. Find the conspiracy, whatever it takes.”

 

She turns to the island below, and I unwittingly obey. Below me, I can see people in the streets, living in a semblance of peace. Above them, the sky and the clouded sun loom, barely higher than the magnificent skyscrapers of stone and glass, and - presumably, for I do not see them - the tall, snow-capped mountains.

 

Looking at them, I remember her words, and then the oath I swore on the day of my coronation. “I shall be ready to sacrifice my life, my loved ones, my wealth, my honor, my throne, everything for the sake of the city I rule.”

 

My eyes turn to her, for she has reminded me of the oath. She smiles and vanishes, and the world follows suit. A moment later, everything turns black.

 

The universe reconstructs itself, and the next moment my eyes open to the real world. Before me is a person, his face veiled by a mask that, to all appearances, is faceless.

 

“The dream has passed. Welcome back to the world. Now, have you understood?”

 

Hello! I hope you enjoyed reading. This story is part of a series, complete details in this post. Thanks for reading!

 

[Pythor 1,354]

Well written piece. Interesting topic...

[Person_Random 4,991]

Great, so now Thief's an unofficial reporter?  Why couldn't someone pick me? :P  :angry:  :P  :lol:  :ph34r:

[thethiefofvictory 339]

Great, so now Thief's an unofficial reporter?  Why couldn't someone pick me? :P  :angry:  :P  :lol:  :ph34r:

Wait a second, really? Link, please?

[Pythor 1,354]

Great, so now Thief's an unofficial reporter?  Why couldn't someone pick me? :P  :angry:  :P  :lol:  :ph34r:

Mabye because you don't use emojis sparingly ;)

[Person_Random 4,991]

Wow, seriously.  Im not using any emojis right now, and just because i suck at writing doesn't mean you can't feature me once in a while too!  Sorry for no publications right now, but i was busy!