Kindred Folk - Velvet Wings

[FennWenn]

The forest was large, luminous, and rich. Just enough light filtered down for disorderly ferns to grow amid the leaves and twigs dusting the earth’s skin. Silent branches waved from every tree, and vines of blossoming morning glories, which grew dispersed and sparingly, clashed with the otherwise green view. A cacophony of wild sounds resonated through the air. Most belonged to insects, their thrumming muffling the occasional calls of birds of prey gliding unseen in over the forest.

There was frost on the ground. It crunched under the weight of him as he stood up. Fenn breathed in the crisp air and stretched, toes squishing the icy dirt.

There was frost on the ground, and the air was warm.

The puck glanced about, frowning. Fenn’s recent experiences delving into dreams had taught him to recognize when he was in one, but this one felt off to him in some unexplainable way. There was a strength to its edges. He closed his eyes, feeling warm sunlight on his face. When he mentally reached out to figure out where Banrion was within the dream — she was usually present in the lucid ones — he ran into a wall. A hard, inescapable edge. The only one here was him.

Him, and him.

The fluttering sight of the other-him, perched in the tangle of branches above like a bird about to take flight, caused Fenn to flinch in surprise. It was him, but it was not him. It was him, but with nicked ears and heavy eyes, and deep dark bags under those eyes. It was him with rosy skin and raven-dark hair. It was him, but with black shackles and chains dripping off his wrists and ankles. It was him with black blood trailing off his hands in a steady stream. The thick ooze glopped to the leaf litter below with nary a sound.

“Don’t be scared,” the other him said, smiling only slightly as he squinted against the sunlight. His voice was recognizably like Fenn’s inner voice... but older. More like a young adult than a child. “I’m just you.”

Fenn took a step back, ears flat to his skull. <Are you?>

“Yep. A very different part of you. Minds are complicated places. Most people have multiple faces inside themselves, you know. You could call me an accumulative form of your darkest experiences, your harder half, your sense for survival, or a manifestation of more Mortal Concerns, if you’d like?” The other Fenn shook his head and stared downward into the grass, dark bangs drifting in front of his eyes. “If things go how I hope they might, then you’ll forget about me anyway. We have a lot to discuss and nearly no time to make some really important choices.”

Fenn (his main self?) hesitated, and crossed his arms.

Mortality — that was what the not-him-him was to be called that for now — sighed, sensing his unease. “Just cooperate with me here? Things are going to get really weird if you don’t. Like usual, we’re breaking a few rules-“

<What rules are we breaking here?> Fenn asked as he took a cross-legged seat in the dirt. It was an inquiry he couldn’t quite hold back. The lack of context for all of this vexed him.

The other-him shrugged. “Mmm. Let's see. I can’t tell you the specifics — that might fuck things up? But I guess I can vaguely say that they’re ones of causality and psychology. It’s probably not a good idea to for a person to split themself up this strongly. In our case though… I’m mostly subconscious shit anyway? And this is supposed to be Big Fuckin’ Change Time anyway. So we should be fine…” Mortality trailed off, and the chains around his wrists clacked as he crossed his arms together, leaning back against his tree’s trunk. “You know what? That’s all the questions we have time for from you today. I ask things now. First; am I a part of you that you really want to keep around? Am I even a part of you that you particularly need? Would I be missed if I was shoved back into the deepest corners of our mind?”

Sharp canines clicked together in Fenn’s mouth as he ground the nonsensical questions around his head. <What? How’m I supposed to- I don’t know- augh! I need to know what do you do. In my head. If you’re a part of me. And, why are you asking me this?>

“Reasons. Look at me. Look at how battered I am.” Mortality’s chains rattled as he lifted his cuffs skyward. A spray of blood landed not two inches away from Fenn, and he winced. “What do you think my job is? I keep a looot of scary shit under lock and key. And I need you to- to agree to kind of…”

The dream was quiet a moment. The breeze, the birds, and even the bugs had vanished. Fenn leaned in toward Mortality’s tree with his head in his hands, frowning. <To kind of..?>

“Kill me.”