The Dreamer of Ankhbarr
I am laying on my back, in the middle of a deep-dark forest. A concerned look at the sky tells me it’s probably around midnight, or somewhere in the middle of the night. Sitting on the ground, I notice the ground is cold and earthy. Ideas of all sorts enters my mind, but I have to find where I am before doing anything else. I was in my bed few moments ago and then here I am, in the middle of a forest which is unknown to me. I try to get up and I am on my legs. They are not supposed to work.
Since the accident, some weeks ago, I have been stuck to my bed, impossible for me to move. I got used to this state of paralysis and the only things I could do, to a certain extent, were reading, drawing, listening and looking. Books always fascinated me, so I expanded my knowledge of the world by a lot, especially by reading classics of the English literature, such as Wuthering Heights. Drawing, and painting, were a loss of time, so I did not waste too much time on it. Listening has always been more pleasant to me than talking, so at the beginning, when people of my entourage came to visit me, I listened to them and their stories, or whatever they wanted to talk to me about. But when they saw that my case was doomed, the visits became less and less frequent.
When asked about their remoteness, they all said that they had busy lives and unfortunately not enough free time. I was nothing but a waste of time to them, I could see it in their faces when they entered my apartment, this disgusted look that they hide behind their pretty smile. I then became an observer. I looked all around me. Over the years, I looked at a lot of things.
In my loneliness, I started to describe these things to myself, I could talk to myself for hours before getting tired of it. Things as simple as a car passing by the road could take me my afternoon. I became so alone that the sole idea of receiving someone in my room made me sick.
Still, my legs are not my priority for the moment.
I get up and look around me, but all I can see is the darkness of this strange forest. The trees are tall and in this obscurity they are all black. Their long, thin branches hang and clash, forming a rattling as the wind rises. Something attracts me to their long branches. They seem to radiate from within. It might be my vision being blurred, but I have a feeling that there is something going on. I approach one of the trees, take a branch near the ground and break it in half. A curious orange liquid comes out of it and falls off of the branch, burning the ground that it touched. It might not have burned the ground, but there is definitely something that happened when it fell. I decide to examine the branch and I can see that the inside is of a radiant orange-yellow. I take one of the half, break it and the same result happens. I let go of the branch and decide that my best choice is to go ahead, to cross this strange forest.
The air is strangely cold for a forest, even though there is almost no wind. My feet being the part of my body from which I am the coldest, I suppose that the coldness comes from this dark and frozen ground. The mystery of these trees growing on this kind of ground is another question on which I don’t spend too much time on.
I don’t have anything to warm me up except my own clothes, which are dirty and far from being warm. As I am walking, making my way through the foliage, I see a rock the size of a doorway in front of me. There is a rock in the middle of the forest. I approach it and put my hand on it. It is with no surprise that the rock is cold to the touch. I kneel to examine it and as I am doing it, I notice an orange glow coming from my left. I forget about the rock and go in the direction of the orange light, wondering what the light might reveal me. Maybe the forest is filled with surprises even stranger than the one before. Leaving the foliage and the branches of the forest, I arrive in front of something that is even more mysterious than this place. My astonishment and my amazement leaves me in awe in front of what is there. I do what I do best, I look, but words cannot describe what stands there, alone in these dark woods.
I am in front of a giant tunnel, at least the double of my height and large enough to give way to four people walking side by side. A heap of giant rocks form a wall on either side of the tunnel. The circle forming the entrance of the tunnel is illuminated by a bright orange colour, seeming to radiate in this total darkness. What I thought might have been a fire reveals itself to be a giant circle producing a bright orange light. It leaves me speechless and makes me wonder about where I really am. The thought that by shouting I could awake things even more terrible and stranger that what I have seen so far leaves me disconcerted.
There is a stream of cold air accompanied by a thin mist coming from the tunnel. The cold takes hold of me, I shudder and I stay there, in front of the entrance, not really wanting to enter, but not really having the choice either.
Something inside me is attracted to this glowing orange ring. I can feel its radiance influencing my will. I look behind me at the trees that form the forest. I don’t know whether or not I am happy to leave this forest. All of this seem surreal, but if I want to escape from this place, the tunnel is my best option at the moment. I go towards the tunnel and enter, holding myself to the wall to guide me through this darkness. As soon as I enter, I hear the repulsing and incomprehensible whispering of a childish voice coming from somewhere. My heart beats strongly. I prefer to ignore this warning and I continue to walk in blindly.

Worn-out shoes, a coarse sleeved shirt and a pair of old overused pants is all I have with me.
At moments, I can hear some muffled sounds coming from all around me. I have no idea what the dimensions of the tunnel are. These sounds might come from near me or maybe they are more distant in the tunnel, I am not able to judge of its provenance.
Walking blindly in this darkness exhaust me. If there were light, I could walk straight forward and make my way out of here, but no light means I have to make an effort to follow this wall made out of stone.
I take a halt in my walk and sit on the ground, leaning on the rocky wall. I am thirsty and my head hurts. I close my eyes and try to clear my mind. The vision of a prison appears to me. There is someone on the ground, outside of the prison. He gets up and I now see that he is being chased, by what ? I cannot say, but there is something behind him. It’s probably far into the night, he runs, he is almost near the fence. As he reaches it, the vision disappears as abruptly as it had appeared. Opening my eyes remember me of where I am. I don’t know how long it’s been since I closed my eyes, maybe only a few minutes.
As I wonder whether or not I should get up or stay sitting, I find a little rock on the ground. Its touch is smooth and cold, it reminds me of the forest where I was a while ago. There is no use for me to go back there.
I have just arrived at what seems to be the end of this cold soil. I am now walking in an oily black liquid that happens to me just above the ankles. The liquid in which I walk in is icy, so my ankles don’t take too long to become numb. Everything here is cold, I can almost see the steam of the cold air coming out of my breath. I am still clinging onto the wall to guide me, but the cold becomes less and less bearable. My steps are becoming more and more forced and every meter requires all of my energy. From times to times, there is a drop of water that falls from the ceiling into the watery liquid. I sometimes try to catch one to hydrate myself. I haven’t had water since my arrival here and my hunger is growing.
I frequently here some animal-sounds in this obscurity. When I am not able to have water, I concentrate on where the sounds come from, to see if I can catch one of them. They certainly don’t come from under the water, so the sound-things must be walking on these walls. One would think I could discern something in this darkness, but I can barely see my hands, which leads me to reflect whether my sight would not have diminished since I entered this tunnel of the infinite. That would explain a lot of things.
Even though there is nothing to tell me the time, it must have been a few hours since I started to follow this wall. A few more hours and I will never come out of here.
My desire is stronger than me, I have to drink something if I want to find my senses. I let go of the wall and kneel in the water, both knees soaked in this unknown oily liquid. I approach my face to the oil, ready to drink there, when I hear this soft and muffled sound of what I consider animals. I follow my instinct and turn hurriedly around, catching the animal. It is hairy and of the size of a large rat. It has a long rough and scaly tail.
He struggles violently, but I don’t give up my grip. I can feel its heart beating rapidly in the grasp of my hands. My desire to drink disappeared, I am now hungry. Kneeling in the water, I take the animal with both my hands and take my first bit out of it. I take a part out of his stomach. The shrill scream of the animal invades the tunnel. The taste is not bad and I begin to eat it with an avidity that I did not expected. The raw flesh of the animal drips blood on my chin. I suck the corpse of the animal of all its blood, so I don’t have to drink of this cold and black liquid. The large rat has long ceased to groan when I take my last bite.
I have been walking for a few minutes and I am now back in control of my body and mind. I am determined to move forward so I can finally come out of this nauseous place.
I am no longer in this stagnant water, but my feet are soaked and cold. I take another halt, take off my shoes and leave them on the ground. I continue immediately to move forward.
Walking on the harsh and rocky ground hurt my feet, but after a while, I get used to it. I can feel that it’s getting colder and colder and with my soaked pants, it won’t get better anytime soon. I’ve got to assume my condition, that I might not reach the exit at the end of this tunnel, if there is one, but for now I am walking, and that’s all I need to focus on.
Walking is exhausting. I don’t think I have ever walked that much, especially without knowing where I’m going, that is if I am even going somewhere. If I get out of here and if I can come back to where I was, which is certainly not here, it might be the last time I’ll ever walk again.
At this point, this is not fear that I feel, as I have no reasons to be afraid anymore, it is more despair that I feel. There is no hope for m- is this a wall ? Yes, it feels like it. I am now in the corner of two walls, the first being the one whom I was following and the second, a wall which appeared right now in front of me. There is a second wall, identical to the first one. Did I reached a corner of the tunnel ? It remembers me that I haven’t dared going away from the wall since the beginning. I don’t know where I am, with who I am… The fact that I reached a wall perpendicular to mine surprises me. I was imagining that it would never end.
I do not really have a choice. Either go back, which would be absurd, or follow the second wall. I guess it’s not really a choice, but who knows where it will lead me. Right before going, I kneel and try to find a little rock, which I find in a matter of seconds. I take it and on the wall whom I was following, just before the other, I write four numbers, which are “2696”. I am not sure if it worked, but at least I’d have tried.
I try not to think about what the possibilities of what will come when the wall end are. It’s better like that.
One would think that I’d miss my place and all the things I have where I lived few hours ago, but thinking about it, no. I don’t miss what I had before, but I feel like I’ll miss what I have now. Being stuck in my bed for the rest of my life is not a life which I agreed to participate in. I am much freer here, in all this darkness surrounding me. No one exist to judge me nor to make it harder for me. I am my own world. I feel empowered by all the freedom that I have now. But I guess it won’t last long.
I had to walk for a shorter amount of time before something had to happen this time. The part of the wall which I have right now arrived to is polished and smooth, unlike the rest of the tunnel. I can feel on my ankles the weak flow of air coming from somewhere near the ground. I try exploring the surface to see if there is something to find, and I find it. There is a kind of handle built into the polished rock wall. I try to open it, but nothing happens. I try harder, still nothing. Maybe it wasn’t made to be opened ? I try for a last time, and… nothing. This is supposed to be my way out… Where would someone come into the tunnel, decide to build a door which isn’t supposed to be opened and then leave ? Why would someone come here in the first place ? Or did the person came from the other side of the door ? Why would there be a door ? Is the person still here ? Was he alone or was he part of a group ? So much questions enter my mind. I sit with my back leaning against the door and think.
Am I not strong enough to open it ? I come to the conclusion that it is the best way to get out at the moment, so I decide to get up and try again. I try and try again to pull the door with as much force as I can and I finally hear the sound of the door moving.
Now that I unlocked it from its slumber, it is way much easier. I open it enough so I can pass through. If I’d have to describe, it would be three feet thick, high of thirteen and long of four. I leave the tunnel and don’t feel the need to close the door behind me. The thought that it might be locked didn’t come to my mind, but with a wall and a door like this, it is unlikely that it can have a locker. I am in a new place now, similar to the tunnel but different in many ways. It is still quite dark, but there is a ray of light piercing the roof, roof that is so high that I am not sure I can distinguish it. It is like a cave. I don’t see any of the walls on the side, but if I stay in the middle of the room, in front of me, where the light is, I should be fine. It is not as cold as the tunnel, but it’s far from being hot. There is also a surprising amount of dust in the air.
As I am walking, I distinguish what seems to be a mountain further ahead. Or maybe a tall hill, but still massive. A very tall hill made out of dark rocks. I decide to approach it, to see why would there be a mountain inside a cave. An underground mountain. Approaching it, I am confused. Even though it is way easier for my eyes to distinguish my entourage, I am still in doubt that my vision is one hundred percent clear. In the mountain, carved into the rocks of the mountain, there is a giant throne which is bigger and bigger as I am walking towards it. Measuring at least twenty meters high and half of length, this vision is not at all confusing compared to what sits on the throne. A man, a giant man, nearly the same dimensions as the throne is sitting on it. An old man, well past the hundred years, wearing ample black clothes is there, either dead or sleeping on the colossal throne. My size is derisory compared to his. I am stunned by being in front of this gigantic person. Not sure what to do, I do nothing, I stay there, not daring to move. Seeing that nothing happens, I quietly move towards the throne and what I feared would happen happened. The old man opened his eyes, as if he was waking up from a long sleep and he judges me in silence for what seemed to me to last for hours. Both arms resting on the throne’s arms, he says, in a deep and harsh voice :
- I was waiting for you, Keran.
The voice who just called me seemed like a whisper, although a very deep and powerful whisper. He approached his hand, as if he wanted to shake hands with me, and as he did, I knew where I was.
Ankhbarr.
To live is to know fear. To survive is to know how to fear what is stronger than you and to overcome this angst.
Back then, what I thought I considered my hunger as was not of food, but of knowledge.
S. M. Kyll
