The Iron Badger

Chapter 5

The One that Eats Fears

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Before I wrote about the struggles my father faced, and the place he found himself in. I would like to remind to whoever reads this that it took a great deal of time and healing before my father could tell his side on what happened in the seven years that was taken from him.

What was peculiar about the experience my father had was that he traveled without the usage of his body. I had spoken about the twelve gates and the dimensions upon dimensions. But my father was not in one of those dimensions--or was he? From the first time my father uttered a single word about the experience he had, he described it as being trapped inside his own mind! My first thought agreed with him. Perhaps it started out that way, then moved into something entirely different. I remember Morrighan telling me something about astral traveling. It is when the soul leaves the body and then travels elsewhere. Is it possible for one to travel from one gate to the next without the use of a body? I am unsure. Morrighan did further stated that she used to travel through the astral universe in meeting with gods and goddesses. And learning about gods from other places than Masa. But what made the story more intriguing was what he had found around his neck--after he had woken up. How was it possible? His body was not moved. Is it possible for a soul to transfer a physical object and then place it upon something solid? I do not know, but that is what happen to my father.

It took my father lying on his deathbed to open on what had happened to him. I loved my father, so never once questioned him regarding of his absence, and allowed time to heal some of his wounds, but the rest had to come by his own doing. And so, my father's story begins with him awaking to a world he never knew.

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Rye opened his eyes to a world that surpassed logic and understanding. He slowly looked around and noticed that everything was void of color and life. He then looked to see if his horse, Equinox, was nearby. "Equinox! Equinox!" shouted my father. The next thing he noticed was that there was no makeshift fort. Just an empty beige sky over head. Rye also noticed that the trunks of the trees were bent and twisted in the most grotesque manor, bent into shapes that were unknown to him. "The forest was cruel," explained my father, as he laid in bed and I jotted down all he said to me. "Trees bore no leaves or fruits, just sticks in the ground with bare branches growing this way, and that way--in odd directions. The color of bark was the color of charcoal. I had seen nothing like it. The forest was neither dead nor alive--but in limbo. Teeter on a razor's edge of death, but something would not allow it to die, or live. It was a cruel forest indeed."

"The ground was like a patch quilt of various shades of greys, followed by deep blacks that seemed scattered. The place had no rhyme or reason to it. It was chaotic, but not at the same time. It is a world that would drive the strongest man into lunacy!" continued my father.

Then Rye sat up, trying so hard to remember the finest details of what happened before he stepped into a world of the unknown. All he could recall was his name and the name of his beloved horse, Equinox. But remembered not of his wife and daughter, and a place he grew as a child, a land called Masa. All he knew was that he lived in a world full of color and beauty--even that was a somewhat a distant memory.

Curiosity sprung forth as he stood to his feet, then walked to a twisted tree, then sat figuring out his next move. He then sniffed the tree on which he sat on and found it to be quite odorless and dry, barren of dirt or soot.

"There was nothing else for me to do but to go out and explore, to find out more about the place. Hoping that my memory would soon surface."

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