Fragments Of Us

The path we had set out on was long and exhausting. A whirlwind of thoughts and feelings moved through our minds. Night was falling slowly, as if even the forest itself feared the light. The sounds had quieted, save for the occasional whisper of a snapping twig, the distant song of a bird, or the rustling wind rolling through the branches like a lullaby from another world. To gather strength for the journey ahead, Merlin and I decided to sit beside a river that blocked our way, not far from the house we had left behind. We both shared the same questions, the same fears, lost on the same roads.

The water was calm, almost unreal—like stretched glass suspended between me and reality. Merlin sat quietly on the grass, lost in thought, her curls tousled wildly by the breeze. I knelt at the riverbank, dipping my palms into the cold stream, letting droplets slide down my wrists. My gaze caught my own reflection. The eyes staring back were mine—and yet, they were not. They bore the marks of battle, despair, and loss. But beneath all that… who was I?

I exhaled slowly, almost a whisper.

— Devin...

I spoke my name aloud, but the word sounded foreign. As if it belonged to someone I had once known, long ago, but not to me. Was I a daughter? A child suddenly turned soldier in a foreign war? A pawn in someone else's experiment?

I closed my eyes for a moment, and darkness swept over me like a summons.

In the dream, the world was red.

I stood before the house of my childhood—a wooden home, fragrant, its windows gleaming in the sunset. But something was wrong. The air smelled of smoke, of gunpowder, of blood. The sound of fire was distant and threatening, though no flames were visible.

I turned around.

Everything around me was ablaze. People were running, fleeing, screaming. Children ran inside houses—children who, like me, wore the same white uniform, marked with the same insignia. The uniform was no longer white; it was stained with blood.

Merlin stood a few meters away, holding a burning torch. Her face was not angry. It was calm, eerily blank.

— Why? — my voice was childlike, pleading.

Merlin looked right through me and hurled the torch onto the porch. The fire devoured the wood with the hunger of a living beast.

The house burned, and in the flames, I heard laughter—not Merlin's, not mine, but the laughter of a man whose name I could not utter.

The leader's laughter.

I sprang from the riverbank toward Merlin, filled with fear, sorrow, and rage. She caught me, pulling me close. I think she had never held me so tightly. Our hearts beat in unison, at the same pace, sharing the same terrible reality.

— Merlin — I whispered, still shaken by the vision I had seen, that dreadful truth.

— Is it all because of the chip? Are our true memories coming back? Are we finally free?

I lifted my gaze sadly to her.

She rested her head on mine again, gazing thoughtfully at the river.

— I think so. I hate them for it.

She continued, voice low.

— I remember now. I saw you entering that wooden house. You had a knife—a small knife. You looked so lost, yet so focused on what they told you to do under their control.

Her tone softened, becoming tender.

— I'm so sorry. They're fucking monsters, and I hate myself for working for them so long and blaming you for everything.

I returned her embrace, tightening it.

— We're in this together. If Roi failed, we will continue what he started. He deserves that just as much as we do.

Merlin nodded.

We fell into silence. Stars appeared in the night sky, and the wind blew gently. Crickets began their song. Merlin and I leaned against each other, now simply enjoying the closeness we had regained—an intimacy restored from a time long past.

Merlin turned her gaze toward me.

— I care about you. I want you to be safe.

— I know. I can see that… because…

I hesitated.

— Because?

She looked at me, puzzled.

— I remember that night. You thought I was asleep.

Merlin fell silent, her eyes drifting back to the river.

— Now I know what you meant by closeness. I want it.

After I said this, I felt her breath deepen and slow. Her hand found my chin, tilting my face closer to hers until our faces were almost touching. I felt warmth surge through my body.

I wanted her so fiercely. Her lips, like that night—I wanted them. Her hands on my body—only they made me forget this twisted life, this distorted reality.

— I've wanted you since day one — her voice was rougher now, like a wild animal finally fed.

She kissed me.

Her warm lips on mine sent shivers down my spine. Her hands traced paths over my skin.

But it wasn't enough—I wanted more. I wanted to become part of her being, of her existence. She was the only truth, the only lost thing found again. She was the only one who made me feel like myself. Like someone's—truly someone's—for the first time.