“Oh wow. I must be more dehydrated than I thought. Or maybe it’s those few orange berries I ate! First I imagine a sweet creature coming to warm me up, and now I’m hearing voices in my head?”
“You’re not dreaming. Though I’m flattered you think I’m sweet. Pherebos is going to be so jealous when I tell him that!”
“Pherebos?”I giggle again at this ridiculous fantasy my brain has cooked up.
“Yes, him!”the dream insists, showing me a stunning face.
A face I’ve seen before—once. And a few times since, in my dreams. That man I met so briefly, just before I fell completely under Henri’s spell.
For a split second, when I looked into those intense violet eyes, I felt like another path might have been possible.
But I sealed our fate—Prianka’s and mine—when I put my trust in the only man who claimed he could take care of my sister. What a tragic mistake.
“Don’t be sad! Your aura just turned all dark!”
“I was thinking about Prianka,”I whisper, as a single tear slides down my cheek.
“Your sister?”
“Henri killed her. What am I supposed to do without her?”
“Pherebos and I—we’re going to take care of you.”
This dream is all over the place. I need to rest. I close my eyes and let myself drift into sleep, comforted by the warmth beside me.
I’m woken by a deep voice, close to my ear.
“You’re right, Wingo. She’s dehydrated. I also need to check how badly she’s hurt.”
I open my eyes and see him—him. The man from my memories. His face is serious, focused. I must still bedreaming. I close my eyes again, hoping to fall into something deeper, something healing.
“No, don’t close your eyes. I’d like you to stay conscious so I can ask you a few questions. My name’s Pherebos. This is Wingo—my furry friend who brought me to you.”
“Pherebos?” I stammer.
“Yes, that’s right. I’m going to help you sit up and get you some water. It’ll be easier for you to drink that way. I also need to know if you’ve injured yourself badly.”
Is this really happening? If not, it’s the most vivid dream I’ve ever had.
“I think... it’s my left arm.”
“Let me scan you real quick. My AI will confirm your condition.”
“No! No scanner!” I panic, my voice sharp.
“Shhh... Don’t worry. My AI is disconnected from the colony’s network. No one will know I found you. Ileana, I need you to trust me.”
I don’t know anything about this guy. But somehow, I feel the same way I did the first time I met him—like I can trust him completely, even with my eyes closed.
Back then, I chose the path of reason. I chose Henri.
This time, I’m choosing to trust Pherebos. At least for now. I don’t really have any other options.
I nod gently and let myself get lost for a moment in his striking violet gaze. He helps me sit up with care, and his companion—Wingo, I think—nuzzles against my side, helping me stay steady. What a strange situation.
Pherebos hands me a flask. I drink slowly while he pulls out a Confederation device and begins scanning me.
“You’re dehydrated and weak from lack of food,” he says. “Your lip’s split and the scab reopened. You’ve got a couple of infected wounds. And your shoulder’s broken. I’ll need to mold a composite brace to hold it in place until we can get you into a tank.”
