There was no warmth. His mouth was muffled, and he could not speak. He could not hear, but he could see. He could feel the sand of a beach beneath his hand, the yellowish surface reaching out into the endless horizon where water appeared like a mirage in an empty desert. The sky was bleak, and there was no colour. He sat in this derelict world as rain seeped into his boots, curled up on the shore alone as he gazed out to where the wind came. It was a feeling not unfamiliar, but he felt hated, having been abandoned, and though it was a brief scene, it revived many of his harsh, forgotten memories. When he blinked, his dream changed again, and he was transported into another world, but it was a reality that he had never seen before.
Something in him seemed sure that it had happened. Only he could not recall when or where it did. There was a fatherly figure holding onto his shoulders as he sat in front of a hearth that was oddly like the one in his grandparents’ home, but he became unsure whether or not he was himself for he could feel the cold of the floor and the heat of the flames. He noticed that there were two other children sitting around the hearth too, boys his age who behaved so differently they could never have been friends. One often sought trouble, reaching for the flames before being held back by his grandfather, who had to scold him to sit still. Another behaved more than his age, his distinct eyes staring into the hearth, musing. Their faces failed to come to light, but when he suddenly turned towards him, Julien remembered, and the unlocking of his past shocked him awake.
Plunging into the sea, his body sank. His spirit and soul tried to keep him alive as he clawed for the surface when a hand reached down for him, but he began to lose his consciousness as water flooded his lungs. His mind was being taken away as he slowly accepted his fate, but the arm did not admit defeat. It reached deeper into the sea and grabbed Julien by his collar, and with the strength of a lion, it dragged him back from the depths.
Reflecting the nearby flames of the sinking frigate on his face, his saviour was Lev, gritting his teeth as he held onto Julien. Arber had wrapped himself around Lev’s waist to anchor him down, and as they both let out a cry, they hauled their comrade aboard. In his waterlogged clothes, Julien rolled onto the floor, his eyes closed and his face giving no signs of life. Having rescued his friend from the cruel sea, Arber shouted at the bridge, and the engines of the ship began to churn out columns of smoke again. Before the flagship could turn their guns on the mice-sized vessel, the propellers whirred, and the sloop set sail.
Afraid that he had drowned or had succumbed to injuries he could not yet see, Lev knelt down beside the corporal and listened to his breath that was weak but present. “Julien!” Worried that he would not wake and had gone into shock, he slapped him on his face. “Wake up!” He yelled with Arber kneeling beside him, ready to resuscitate him.
Julien’s eyes moved, and his mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, but when he realised that he was no longer in his dream, he paused, gently being brought back into reality. He woke up to his comrades’ gladdened faces, who saw that he was largely unhurt except for the cuts and burns on his back, before Lev sighed out of relief and collapsed onto the floor, leaning against the tower of the ship.
Arber rose, brushing his soaked hair to the side. “What now?” He asked, already thinking several steps ahead.
Lev stared at Julien, who was quietly lying on the deck of the ship, the rain not bothering him. “We have to return to the city…” The corporal told his comrade. “We can’t leave them there.”
It would have usually taken some thought before the lancer decided on something as risky as his suggestion, but Arber nodded in an instant and hurried himself to the bridge to inform the pilot, prepared to convince him to return to the city.
When he heard the door open and slam shut behind him, Lev turned to Julien and lowered his head, hot from within, filled with burden as if he had wronged the world, but he did not let out a word about his pain. Lying before him, Julien rested, having relived years of his missing memories in a few seconds, remaining partially deafened by the blast as his ears rang unstoppably. He wondered if the children he had seen were alive and were staring at the same grey afternoon sky as he was.447Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoMcpXUZK4T
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