“I don’t understand,” Brooks whispered, reality imploding and overwhelming his senses.
“But you do. You’ve no memories before the asylum.”
“Because they keep me drugged out of my mind.”
“Are you trying to convince us, or yourself?”
That hit him like a load of fucking bricks.
“My name is Brooks. I’m a patient at St. Dymphna’s Home for the Mentally Unwell. I’m a paranoid schizophrenic.”
He ran his hands through his hair and dropped into a squat, hugging his knees to his chest to get as small as possible.
Voices plagued his thoughts as his passenger roused, suffocating him from the inside out.
“My name is Brooks…” he whimpered.
“Call on him, prince.”
“...I’m a patient…”
“Call forth your chaos.”
“...paranoid schizophrenic.”
“Take your throne of darkness and seize what is yours!”
In a blink, the fractures of his brittle mind burst into gaping chasms, his passenger filling his mind like poison and commanding every muscle.
A gentle hand caressed his cheek, but her grasp was firm as she pulled his face to meet her empty stare. He startled when he realized it wasn’t Atropos, but Lachesis with her crown of glittering stars.
“I’ve seen many paths in your future, and the time to act is now.” Her forehead creased and a look that could only be described as pity crossed her face.
“You are real. Your Siren is real.” She spoke slowly, emphasizing each word.
Shock.
Yearning.
Fear.
Longing.
It all hit him at once as her words pierced his skin and melted into his very marrow.
“Very real, prince. And she needs your help. She wallows in nightmares and is losing sight of the hope that keeps her afloat. You cannot save this world without her, and she cannot be saved without you.”
Xia’s words came back to him. She begged him to trust her, to believe in her, and he’d made a decision then to do it. He wouldn’t back down now, especially since his life was already changed so irrevocably.
“How do I find her? Where is she?”
“I’ve already shown you where your journey begins,” Atropos stepped forward “But you must be careful, and you must be ready to forgive. She has been used against you, used to keep your mind intoxicated while others prey on your weakness.”
A reel of visions forced their way into his mind–
A great god on a platinum throne flying the nest to mold a woman from clay, rip the eyes from her sockets and pour his madness into her mind.
A great god on a platinum throne leading his reign of terror.
