Amber of Snippy, Sector 0074 Host

Chronicler of Introspection

Entry ____1079:

I've had that dream again.

That strange place, so distant, yet so close to my heart. Buildings as tall as mountains.

Dead structures, watching with their dead eyes. Empty, vast and endless honeycombs of stone and steel. Air filled with gray ashes, always fluttering from the cloudy sky.

The black vortex opened up in the sky, descending down to the city.

The vortex spiral ripped the city apart, bending the air itself, feasting on light, feasting on time.

There was a lonely figure standing in the street.

No matter how hard I tried to make out the figure's expression, I could not do it.

Is there no face there at all? Or perhaps there were a million human faces there, intertwined and flickering in unison, as vibrant as the light of ten thousand stars?

The being stared into the abyss of the vortex and took another step towards it, into the horizon of nothingness, into a place where nothing can exist.

The stones of the roadway beneath its feet crumbled, fluttered into the air, colliding with each other. I knew then that this was a Wizard like no other.

The Wizard walked on, fearless of the black void.

“WHO LEFT THE WINDOW OPEN? THIS DRAFT IS SIMPLY UNACCEPTABLE!” The faceless one spoke.

The world around the wizard decayed away, devoured by the ever-expanding vortex of death.

“WELL, THERE IS ONLY ONE WAY TO DEAL WITH A DELICIOUS PIT.”

I saw a hand reach into a pocked, pulling out a… straw? The Wizard planned to drink the vortex?!

“...AND ONCE THAT IS DONE, I WILL LOCATE YOU, WHEREVER YOU ARE!”

The Wizard said as the storm devoured buildings, frozen rivers and even mountains. Who did the Wizard address? Were those words meant for... me?

“REWIND!” The Wizard spoke a Word, stabbing the straw at the voiding storm and time and space itself obeyed.

I awoke, covered in sweat, my heart pounding, terror gripping my mind.

I had to see my Angel.

He always calmed me down in times like these.

For me, mirrors never worked right. The surface of reflection never showed me what is, but instead revealed a reality which runs in some kind of twisted parallel to ours.

Perhaps for me, the mirrors are so thin that they display the true manner of things?

All my life I've seen my black and white knight in reflective surfaces and mirrors.

As far back as I could remember it, the knight was there for me and I could admire his wonderful and strange armour of black and white patches, his face-shield made of materials foreign to our world, his gorgeous lenses of blue cobalt, as sparkly and blue as my own eyes.

"This is nothing odd", my father had told me - "He is our guardian angel, and he is always watching over us. You should be proud to have an angel, in these dark times..."

If it wasn't for a hired painter, I would never know what my face actually looks like.

I caressed the surface of the mirror, seeking solace.

"Good Morning my Angel and how was your day? ...You don't say."

"Oh Angel, my Angel

Wherever you be

So calm so serene

Always watching over me.

My brother? My lover?

My heartstrings aflutter

So close, yet so far.

My knight, my guide, my star.

Could you, would you tell me please?

Would you put my mind at ease?

What will my tomorrow be

What fate awaits me?"