“Don’t try to fight it, I will help you,” he spoke serenely, as if nothing else in the world mattered.
“How? Can’t you at least answer my questions? What’s going on? What did you do to me?” It was making my mind all fuzzy, like when you want to sleep but you’re still trying to stay awake.
“Where you are is called the Pale Palace. I know it may seem a little strange to you at first, but we will explain everything to you.” If he was trying, he still wasn’t satisfying or helping me.
“Who are ‘we’ then?”
“We are called the Aryll. We are the “winged saviors of the sky”. We vanquish all cruelness and hell in these skies. We usually win, but, sometimes, we lose. There’s more out there than just clouds, you know.”
I thought to myself for a bit, and then asked: “What if you are evil? Are you the wrong side?”
“That depends on what you believe in,” he said quietly. I thought for a moment more to myself.
“Our time is almost up. The others and I in the Pale Palace develop unique powers depending on your true spirit. Who knows, you might have some, too!” he exclaimed with some bits of enthusiasm clinging to his voice like a cat on a wire.
“Why am I here? Who am I? And...why here? What is this?” Countless questions crowding my mind like seagulls fighting for food.
He thought, seeming to write down all of the questions I asked. Why hadn’t he just read my mind instead?