Your Charge

All Rights Reserved ©

Chapter 4 A Decision

Her Perspective

2/75/1E M

"Do you accept me as your master, knowing that which I train you to do? Are you ready to prepare for your charge?” I heard my master's words in my head as I sat in bed that night. Of course there was really nothing for me to think about any more, as my boastful young self had agreed to the call without hesitation or thought. It was now that I had already signed the metaphorical contract that the doubts began to race in. I signed my life away! Fearing being enveloped by my conscious thoughts, I retreated into their metaphorically subterranean counterpart.

Drifting into a deep greedy lucid dream state I felt saved by the otherness of my own subconscious in comparison to the familiarity of reality's never ending catastrophic cacophony. It was my intention to dream, yet not sleep, and the lucidity of the dream that allowed me to know my success. Although I was not sleeping, yet dreaming I would not call it a day dream. In a day dream, one's conscious is still present in solid reality, while the focus of their mind retreats momentarily into there subconscious. When asleep your consciousness shuts down, and if you are lucky enough to dream your subconscious awakens. In the self induced state I found myself at the moment both my subconscious and my and conscious stayed awake, as the latter retreated from the surrounding world into the former. With my full consciousness controlling the focus of my mind I was actively exploring my subconscious in a four dimensional dream.

The narrow corridors of the castle that my subconscious built out of my thoughts and memories long before my consciousness learned to explore it were the antithesis of the decision making state of nothingness that I could barely comprehend yet was the focus of my training and the rest of my life. When manipulating the fissures of space and time one completely retreats from all solid reality into a state of decision making and not being. In this dream state I was completely immersed in my perception of reality and the thoughts that do not exist in the other.

It was no surprise to me how vivid and familiar my surroundings were. Being in a creation of my own subconscious within itself, I was omnipotent of it. At the same time, having the focus of my mind controlled by my consciousness, I was fully aware of my omnipotence and my surroundings. The floor that I walked on was Cheddarwood from the isle of Penisulac stained a deep royal purple. The material itself was a manifestation of my childhood spent in a home carved out of the trunk of one of such trees. I had lived there on the coast of Penisulac for most of my childhood. Between its soft forgiving touch, its sweet natural smell, and the plethora of memories imbued in its likeness, this wood was the perfect material for the base of my psychological wanderings. The color was significant for not only the simple fact that it was my most favored, but also it's historical connotation to royalty, which of the realm of my own mind I indisputably am. The walls, although obviously solid, had not been given a clear base material. From what I could see and understand, the walls were covered completely with tapestries depicting every second of my entire remembered existence, from the moment I was born, to the moment I began this venture. Instead of a ceiling, the tops of the ten foot murals opened into a beautiful milky white, and purple star speckled night sky.

Unlike sleeping dreams, and fantasy realms time in this state passed exactly as it did in reality. Every second spent roaming this long corridor was a second my physical self sat absently tormented by the endless afflictions of human life. Walking aimlessly I soon lost track of said time, and became lost in the adventures of my life. This was until I came upon the depiction of my eightieth birthday. Being an age of ceremony in my culture I had looked forward to the year, but exactly what my brethren saw as "ceremony" is not something I care to remember. Although I can never actually get rid of the memory, by no means was I bound to actively explore it. With this I ran down the corridor and began to formulate a purpose for my dream. In this state the focus of my mind formed a seemingly four dimensional vessel, that had no place in space and time yet felt a simulation of physical sensation identical to the real thing. Likewise, the afflictions on it from the similarly simulated surrounding plane, were perfect. This meant that running was as much of a chore in this realm as the common one, but I journeyed forth with purpose.

If I was going to cope with my rushed decision, it would help to explore the memories of time spent with the most wise being whomever I had the pleasure of conversing with. I knew that looking at the tapestries I could explore the memories they illustrated, but whatsmore, if I willed them to open like a door, what I found on the other side would be the memory as it hapened. Not only would the image be four dimensional, but I would be able to clothe myself in mine own flesh. It was exactly like this that I wished to visit my mind's manifestation of the sage, but first I had to get to said memory. Pushing myself as hard as I could, feeling the sweat drip down my brow, and underarms, I ran on. The event i wished to reenact happened recently in my life and since I started at the beginning of my life, it was at the very opposite end of the hall. Finally after what felt like an eternity, I had arrived, and opened the door.

Continue Reading Next Chapter

About Us

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered publisher, providing a platform to discover hidden talents and turn them into globally successful authors. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books our readers love most on our sister app, GALATEA and other formats.