"Huh, well this isn't so bad."
All around was grey and silent. Nothing moved save for swirls in what she could only assume was the fog. There was no immediately apparent light source. Indeed, it seemed to be illuminating itself, but given that this was a dreamscape, she didn't find that in the least bit odd. Lacking any clue about what was supposed to happen next or what she was supposed to do, she struck out in a random direction.
"This is the big challenge?" she muttered. "I like mist and fog."
She drifted deeper and deeper with no indication of which way was which, if such mundane concepts had any real meaning anymore and no points of reference. The passage of time was all but forgotten. Distance was utterly irrelevant.
Laughter sounded from somewhere nearby. Not the scornful sounds of her brothers and sisters or the warm bellows of friends, nor even the raucous guffaws of drunken tavern goers. It was lighter, innocent and, in her current surroundings, just a little eerie.
"Who's there?" she called, expecting no reply and receiving none save for another peal of laughter. "Where are you?"
A darker shape flitted through the grey, weaving in and out of sight. Curious, she gave chase. On and on she went, deeper and deeper, the shape ever out of reach, never quite within her field of vision. She sped up. So did it. It bobbed to the left, so did she. It wove to the right, she followed suit.
Suddenly, she felt her foot become snagged upon something. Helpless to prevent it, she fell face first to the floor. With a quiet grumble, she sat up, dusted herself off and looked back to see... a headstone. Of course. Crawling closer, she swiped away the clinging tendrils of fog, so thick as to be almost solid, to find a name etched within the stone.
"Really?" she asked the empty air, unimpressed. "Yarassi's grave. So, this is, what, the boneyard of my regrets?"
Another marker resolved itself from the vapour. Naturally, she went to investigate.
"Oh, come on!" she called out to the ether. "This isn't a dream! It's a bad cliche! Who comes up with this stuff?"
The laughter sounded again, calling her attention away. Rising, she once more gave chase, now dodging between each new marker as it swam into sight. As before, the sound and its owner stayed just out of reach, drawing her inexorably on.
The noise stopped abruptly. Left adrift, she turned this way and that in search of where to go, but nothing new presented itself. Then came the scream. It wasn't like the others she had heard; this one was more anguished than pained. Without hesitation, she made for its source.
The miasma unexpectedly cleared. The walls of it circled around like the perfect eye of a storm, thick, tall and impenetrable as if she were now within a vortex. A few feet before her stood a ring of small grave markers, each one etched with unspoken regrets and there, right in the centre, a woman loomed over a child.
"Oh, for goodness sake!" she proclaimed, annoyed now. "Let me guess, you're the evil-me and that's the child-me?"
"Oh, no," came the smug response as the other her turned, an amused smile upon her lips. "You're the evil-you."
"Wait... what?"
"You think you're the good one?" alternate-her chuckled as she stepped forward, one hand upon her hip. "Think it through Silver. Who has spent the last twenty years breaking hearts and cutting ties because it was more fun that way? Who has spent two decades running away from everything because it was easier than facing up to what you were? Who has turned her back on all that she ever cared about in the name of pleasing herself, abandoning lovers and adopted children alike along the way? Who has never stopped to look back, never seeking to repair the damage she caused or even making an effort to prevent it in the first place? Who has desecrated the resting places of the dead, taking what was left to them by their loved ones and profiting from that grief?"
"That's..." Silver protested weakly, taking a step back for each step forward the one one took. "That's not how it was."
"Wasn't it? Even now you come here for selfish reasons," the alternate seemed to grow somehow, looming larger and larger the nearer she came. "You saw something. You wanted it. You're doing all in your power to get it. This isn't about you. This isn't about being a better person. This isn't about facing your nightmares. This is about getting yet another poor bastard into your bed. And what will you do when you manage that, hm? You'll drop him like a stone, leave him behind and move on!"
Taking another step, she felt her back bump up against something hard. All around, the circle of headstones increased in size, rising up into the air like pillars. There was no way out now, nowhere to go.
"That's not true," she protested again, pressing her back as hard against the unforgiving stone as she could. "This isn't about him."
"There's only one way to prevent that from occurring," the alternate ignored her. "Only one way to set all of this right. You get to stay here, Silver, and I get to be the one in control. I could treat him better than you ever have. I could treat your friends the way they deserve. I could lead a good and noble life, devoid of all the self-interest, the narcissism, the dishonesty. It wouldn't be easy - not after all the ills you have wrought - but I'll do it. I'll do exactly what you can't."
"No!" Silver stated defiantly. "You can't and you won't because you're wrong. I've never been dishonest. I've always been naught but open and upfront with my intentions! As for the rest, well," she took a step forward of her own, finger jabbing toward the alternate-her. "I've done the best I can!"
"And that makes it better?" laughter spewed forth as the alternate swung her arm around to point back in the direction of the girl. "Look at what you did to her!"
The girl lay upon the floor, face buried in her hands and knees pulled up to her chest. Soft sobs emanated from the thin shaking body. For a moment, Silver faltered. Then anger swelled in her, rising up like a hot spring.
"So I've been a coward," she spat back, hands balling into fists. "So I ran and I hid and I ran some more. So I adopted the mask that would let me survive the harsh realities of the world and I did everything that I could to protect myself from it. So what? That doesn't make me evil. That doesn't make me bad. That makes me adaptable."
The alternate smiled again, tongue flitting out to lick at her lips. "Come on then, Silver," she invited, taunting as much with her tone as with her hands. "Fight me. Let's see which one of us wins."
For a moment, she was tempted. For a moment, she raised her hand. For a moment she thought that nothing could ever be more satisfying than to pound her fists against this figure as she had done the cage, swinging blow after blow until naught remained. She could almost taste the blood, almost feel the bones give way beneath her hits...
Then the anger drained away. Her shoulders sagged, her hands relaxed. "No," she shook her head, speaking softly but firmly. "I won't. Violence has never been my way and not even you... me... can change that. If I am the evil one, then I accept it, because I'd rather be a coward hiding behind a mask than a self-righteous deluded fool like you."
She pushed past the figure, striding across the intervening space to the side of the child. Crouching down, she laid her hand atop the slender shoulder at first then, breathing a soft sigh, gathered the girl into her arms.
"You're not me," she continued, holding the child close. "You're just the manifestation of my doubts, speaking in the collective voices of those who never understood and never cared to."
When no reply was forthcoming, she turned to find the alternate gone. Left alone with the child now, she seated herself and rocked the small girl back and forth, offering what comfort she could. It seemed like an age passed before the slender body uncurled. It seemed like forever before the hands that hid the face, her own face but so much younger, lowered and eyes as vibrant as her own peered up at her.
"You're safe now," Silver murmured softly, one hand gently stroking the thick red hair of the child. "I have you. You're safe."
"I waited so long," Rajana replied quietly. "I was so afraid."
"I know," Silver sighed. "I'm sorry about that."
Little arms wrapped tightly about her neck, small cheek pressed firmly against her cheek. Rajana took a deep breath, letting it out in a quiet sigh and, as she offered her forgiveness, Silver felt truly at peace for the first time in her tumultuous life. Closing her eyes, she reveled in it, basking in the glow both inner and outer.
"It's time," the young one breathed as she faded away.
"Wait! Rajana..."
"We're together now."
Although Rajana was gone, Silver no longer felt alone. Instead, she felt both lighter and fuller, as if she could float away on the breeze and yet remain solid and whole. It was the strangest feeling, but one that she had no time to examine.
"Wake up!"
Silver's eyes snapped open. Blurry and bleary, she didn't see the ceiling above or the room around. She didn't even see who waited there with her. She simply rolled over upon the bed as quickly as she could, hands grasping for the nearest thing. A pail. Good. She pulled it close just in time to prevent her ensuing vomit from making a mess of the floor.
