Nathan wasn't in pain. He should have been. He didn't know why he thought that, though.
It was still dark outside. He was lying on the ground, surrounded by an unfamiliar landscape. Leafy branches on the tops of trees littered the edges of his view, blocking the glow of the moonlight. His first instinct was to move, survey his surroundings, and use the stars to guide himself back home, but he found that he...couldn't.
His fingers stayed stubbornly still when he tried to push them into the earth beneath him. His torso lay unmoving, like a corpse grown cold. He tried to blink, but that, too, failed, as his eyelids adamantly remained open.
Time passed. Five seconds, then ten. Weirdly enough, his eyes didn't sting with dryness like he knew they should. He couldn't pick up any sounds either, though he was sure he was in the middle of a forest. No night birds chirped. No leaves rustled. The world held its breath like an ill-fitting cog had been rammed into its clockwork, hindering its movement.
Nathan tried to feel the roughness of the soil he knew was digging into his palm, or the smooth fabric of his clothes against his skin. He came up blank.
He tried to take a breath, move his toes, anything. His body didn't respond. Like it had escaped from him. Or he had been chased out of it.
There was nothing to be heard. Nothing to be felt.
His only remaining sense granted him no peace. Nathan's vision focused on the starry night sky above him since he couldn't do anything else. It looked normal at first, but as his eyes grew accustomed to the dark, he realized they seemed...off. Like someone had plucked them out of the sky and hastily placed them back, messing up their celestial cartography.
The more he stared, the less sense it made. Orion looked disproportional— his bow too short, his belt too tilted. Ursa Major had shrunken. Cassiopeia was perfectly symmetrical. There were some stars he had never seen, and the ones he knew to locate ended up in different spots from where they were supposed to be.
Was he dreaming? No, that was impossible. He'd never mess the stars up this badly, even in his imagination. They had been drilled too deep into his mind.
What was happening, then? Where was he, even? The last thing he remembered was—
A hand gripping the edge, desperate. His father's face, calm and composed. He had to- he had to get help, or else his father- he'd—
The cliff. He'd gone there again. He'd ventured into the woods, to that little clearing. A picnic blanket, abandoned. The ghost of a mirthful laugh, ringing in his ears. Memories, keeping him alive.
It was a place he'd known like the back of his hand, but the back of his hand had always had crevices and lines he wasn't privy to. One misstep was all it had taken, and he had fallen to the same trap again. No one had been there to pull him back this time.
His foot, skidding across the smooth stone. A sinking feeling in his gut. The great below, parting way for him, coaxing, inviting–
Oh.
Oh no. Was he—?
It would explain so much— his inability to move, or feel, or hear. But he couldn't be, right? He wasn't—
The great below, parting way for him, coaxing, inviting. Him giving in. The rush of the wind on his face, cold and ruthless. The headlights of the cars mimicking the twinkling pinpricks of light in the night sky. Gravity taking control—
No one survived a fall like that.
A clarifying dread seeped into his foggy mind.
Nathan was dead.
Nathan wasdead.
Gods, what was this, then— the afterlife? Granted, people usually didn't explain the afterlife like this, but people also usually weren't speaking from experience.
He was dead. What was he supposed to do now? He wasdead. Would he be stuck in his corpse for the rest of eternity, until there was no corpse to be stuck in?He was dead.
What about his mother? Nathan could imagine her venturing into the woods in search of him, flashlight clutched in a trembling hand— could imagine her finding him at the base of the very cliff that had also taken her husband.
Would she mourn? Would she throw her arms around him and cry over his unbeating heart? Or would she match his lifeless stare, resigned to the outcome? Would she sniffle into the handkerchief he had messily embroidered for her on Mother's Day? Or would she stand over his tomb, face stoic, and whisper, 'I told you so'?
Nathan was jolted out of his thoughts by the sudden ringing of a muffled sound. It was a jarring contrast to the oppressive silence his world had fallen into. It was unusual; it beat at his eardrums from the inside, bouncing off the walls of his head, rather than coming from an external source. Was it real? Or was he making it up?
It was restrained, coherency withheld. Foreign. He strained to make sense of it, forced himself to be more aware.Listen. The words started taking form. He still couldn't quite decipher them, but they sounded a lot like—
"You think too fucking much."
Nathan barely had time to be offended before the voice barrelled on.
"Like, seriously, it's not that deep. Just shut the fuck up and let me concentrate."
The next instant, there was a distinct noise— like fingers snapping.
Nathan gasped as a bout of sensation surged into him. The soil beneath his fingertips, the brush of cotton against his skin— he could feel again. The air settled down on his face, exerting a familiar pressure he hadn't known to exist before it was gone. His fingers twitched, and his eyelids fluttered close. He could move. He could breathe.
"There ya go, free from the time pause."
Nathan felt a presence to his right. He turned his head to look at it. And immediately wished he hadn't.
A praying mantis was staring at him. It tilted its head, scrutinizing. "Hi. Are you gonna get up, or do you intend to keep lying there like a fucking mammal?"
Had he accidentally fallen face-first onto some psychedelic mushroom?Or maybe this was a dream—
"Can't you have a more original reaction? I've heard the this-must-be-a-dream bullshit like, a hundred times by now."
"Well, what else am I supposed to think?" Nathan snapped. "That you're a telepathic praying mantis who can stop time? Are you aware of how insane that sounds?"
"Hey, I'm not just anytelepathic praying mantis who can stop time." The praying mantis lifted its head high. "I'm Cantis!"
Nathan blinked. "Cantis the mantis."
"Say that again and I will claw your eyes out."
Nathan liked having his eyes, so he decided to shut up. He focused his attention on the new...whatever was happening, instead.
He clearly wasn't dead. And this was clearly not a dream. Nathan's imagination tended to be a bit more, uh, grounded. So the question was, how was he alive? Had he survived—
"Oh, fuck, no, you didn't survive that fall." Cantis climbed into his lap and pointed at his chest. "You mammals are too fragile for that. We just scooped up your soul and put it in that body."
"You what."
Cantis bristled. "Ugh, I hate debriefing. Listen up, human! You've died! Congrats! The Creator picked up your soul! Less congrats! Now you get to suffer, and I get to suffer with you. Yippee! Any questions?"
What kind of explanation was that supposed to be!? He just had more questions now!
Cantis let out a long-suffering sigh. "Just ask the fucking questions so I can get this over with."
She didn't have to sound so annoyed. Nathan deserved some answers.
"And I deserve a fucking vacation but here we are."
Nathan felt his eye twitch. "First of all, stop reading my thoughts."
"I'd rip that function out of the pack if I could," Cantis scoffed. "But nooooo, Cantis, you're a Guidenow, so you need to be mentally linked to some idiot soul until it's done! As if it's worth listening to a mammal's thoughts. The noise is unbearable."
New drinking game idea: Take a shot every time Cantis attempts to explain things and ends up being even more confusing. "What the hell is a Guide?"
There was a beat of silence as Cantis froze and looked up at him as if he had murdered her whole family and eaten her appendix. Then she suddenly hopped off his lap and said in a fake-cheerful voice,"Guides are your little companions who'll help you on your journey!"
"Wha—"
"Each Guide is given meticulous training to ensure that your adventure sails as smooth as a toad's skin!"
Cantis looked like she was trying very hard not to snap her own head off and eat it.
"We, at Guide Rental Services, wish for nothing but your happiness and success! Contact our email or visit our website to rent your own personal Guide today!"
Nathan stared as Cantis finished making a heart with her raptorial forelegs.
"That sounded forced."
"Fuck you and never ask me that question again."
Nathan rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't have had to ask that question if you'd just explained it yourself. Tell me, is that advertisement an order from your employer? Do you get triggered any time someone asks what—"
"If you finish that sentence, I will claw your eyes out."
"The same threat doesn't work twice," Nathan said, leaning away. Just to be safe. "You'll have to be more original."
"Then I'll call on my mantis sisters from the agency, and we will all collectively rip you to shreds and distribute your rotting flesh as care packages for the houseflies in the slums. How's that?"
"I can tell you don't get paid enough to afford a therapist."
"I don't get paid at ALL." The mantis flailed her raptorial forelegs. "They steal all my rental fees, I get zero vacation, and every time I finallypack for a break, they call me back for another job!"
Nathan snorted. "Gods. You sound like a corporate employee."
Cantis looked horrified at the idea. "Take that back. You haveno idea."
"I worked part-time in retail once."
"Ugh. Worse. At least I don't have to worry about those damn butterflies flapping in my face."
Nathan frowned. "Butterflies?"
"My worst nightmare," Cantis said gravely. "Tell you what, you're not half-bad. I'll do you a solid and answer your questions seriously now."
"How generous of you," Nathan said dryly.
"That's fucking right! You won't find a Guide more generous than me! So spit out your questions now."
Right, his questions. What questions did he have, again?
"Are you fucking serious."
"No, I'm— just give me a moment." Nathan pretended to think very hard, tapping the side of his head. "Oh, right. The main question. What the fuck is going on here?"
"Don't get cocky on me, wussface. I already told you. You died when you fell from that cliff— very stupid, by the way— and the Creator of this world picked your soul up to give you a mission. Then they hired me as your Guide, and now here we are."
"A mission?"
"Ever heard of the book, 'Roseless Thorns'?"
Nathan had heard of that book before. It had shown up in his recommendations countless times, and many of his friends had talked about it, too. He'd avoided it, though, mainly because it had nine hundred pages. And while he had no problem with long books, he just hadn't had the time then. Later, the hype had died down and he'd forgotten about it entirely.
But he wasn't sure what that had to do with—
"Yeah, so, you're kind of in that book right now."
...
In hindsight, he probably should've seen that one coming.
"I don't know anything about it, though." He'd stuck his fingers in his ears any time someone attempted to give him spoilers, so the only thing he knew about the book was that it took place in some fantasy magic school that apparently wasn't just a Harry Potter rip-off, and the main character was a girl with pink hair. He wouldn't have known that, either, if fanart didn't keep popping up everywhere.
"I know you don't know shit. That's why I'm here."
Nathan raised an eyebrow. "What, you're going to tell me the story? Will you also fluff up my pillow and tuck me in?"
"Don't fuck with me. I'm not doing any of that shit. I'm just going to jam the story excerpts into your brain as I receive them."
"What?"
Cantis dismissed him. "It's no big deal. Don't sweat it."
"It sounds like a pretty big deal to me," Nathan said, and was promptly ignored.
"You asked what your mission was, right? Read this." Cantis reached into...somewhere, pulled out a piece of paper, and chucked it at Nathan.
Nathan caught it. It felt heavy in his hand, weighing more than it should have. He reached to unfold it and paused, alarms blaring off in his head. What…?
He felt Cantis' eyes on him, watching expectantly, so he shook off the dread and flipped it open. His eyes skimmed over the short sentence written on it. His gut screamed at him to drop the paper, but his grip on it tightened until it crinkled up. What was—
The words blurred for a second. Then one came into view.
Clear. Sharp. Too sharp.
It stood out excessively, haughtily, mockingly—
Save.
His breath hitched.
The word burned into his eyes. His stomach twisted.
"Save."
"Save the villain, yeah. Pretty self explanatory."
—save—
"It won't be easy, but it's doable. And you can do whatever the fuck you want after that."
—you want to save—
"Pretty sweet deal, I'd say. Hey, what's going on in your head?"
Nathan, you want to save Papa, right?
"Oi, human."
A hand gripping the edge, desperate. His father's face, calm and composed. He had to save him, he had to get help, or else his father- he'd—
"Hey! Snap out of it!"
The air was too heavy, too heavy, too heavy—
Suffocating, it wouldn't- wouldn't enter his lungs—
A freshly written letter, caught in cold, blue fingers. An apology. A wish. Longing for belonging. Failure.
He'd tried to bury it, he didn't want to remember- didn't want to- to think about it—
It was all his fault, he shouldn't have—
You tried, you really did, but you couldn't have saved me. No one could have saved me.
The face of a classmate. No— his father.No—
He couldn't tell- which one was it? Dark hair and wounded eyes, so young, so fragile. Glaring up at him, blood-dripping hand clutched against chest. A blood-curdling scream—
Face twisted in agony. Then it melted into- into—
—save Papa—
Twisted expressions, almost identical. Disdain. Sneering at him. Leering at him. Fail—
Go find help, Nathan.
Help, he needed- he needed help, someone to help, help them, help him—
He needed- they needed him—
Stop trying to help! You just make things worse!
But he just wanted to- he didn't want—
No, not when it could've been prevented- he could've prevented it if only- if only he had tried harder- he should've tried harder—
They were at his feet, grabbing him—
Two graves, under the earth—
He couldn't– not again, not again. Save what? How was he-? He couldn't save save save save save save save save save—
"FUCKING BREATHE, ASSHOLE!"
Breathe— he had to- breathe. Breathe, Nathan. In and out, in and out—
The constellations- name the constellations. Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, Orion, Cassiopeia.
His chest heaved with slow, ragged breaths. It burned. He hadn't realized it, but it burned. He needed air. Breathe.
Constellations helped. They calmed him. They were familiar. Even if they were in disarray now. Even if what was familiar waswrong. He'd take it. Any little bit of comfort, he'd take it. Pegasus, Cepheus, Hydra, Draco.
His fists unclenched. Strands of fine, white hair clung to his damp palms, broken from their roots. When had that happened? His jaw hurt, too. Crescents of red bloomed in his palms where he'd dug into it with his nails.
Andromeda, Aquarius, Gemini, Leo.
He blinked blearily, tears crowding his eyes. The edges of his vision blurred. His chest heaved and his lungs burned from want of air.
Breathe, Nathan.
His ragged breaths were the only thing he could hear.
Silence. The stars flickered, distant and cold.
A moment passed. Then—
"...Human. You, uh, you okay?"
"I feel fantastic, why do you ask?" Nathan's throat was dry, and his voice came out hoarse. Two faces, different but same. And now a third? Would he have to go through this again? Why? Why him? Why not someone else? He was no saviour— he couldn't save anyone. Nothing he did mattered, ever. No one mattered, dammit. Dammit.
Nathan took a deep breath, hoping it would settle the sick feeling in his stomach. It didn't. His hand threatened to rip at his hair again. Not good. He needed to think, he needed to...digest this information. Calm down. Breathe.
Nathan stood abruptly.
Cantis let out an unholy screech and flipped onto her back, legs flailing like a dying roach.
Nathan stared.
"I hate it when mammals do that."
Nathan took a deep breath. "Cantis. Please. I need to- uh, regroup—"
"Yeah, yeah, feel your little mammal feelings." Cantis waved him off. "Get lost and do your thing. Don't die."
"Oh." Nathan had thought he'd need to explain more. "Er, another request? Could you please stay out of my head for a while?"
Cantis sighed like she couldn't believe he had the audacity to ask that, but said, "Yeah, hold up." She got back up and pressed her two hind legs together.
In a moment, her presence blinked out, leaving him alone with his thoughts. There on the ground, she looked no different from any other praying mantis. She tilted her head at him quietly.
The silence weighed down, heavy on his mind. The stars pressed in, watching, waiting.
Nathan took a step forward, then another, then broke out into a run. His feet struck the earth in a steady rhythm, his heartbeat racing.
He didn't care where he was going. He just ran.
Overhead, the stars twinkled. Out of order. Out of orbit.