Not Dead Yet

1983 January

Alana gingerly lifted the violin she had been eyeing from Linda's rough hands. Her six-year-old fingers trembled at the feeling of its smooth texture. Who would have thought she would find such a treasure while cleaning Linda's cupboard?

"Are you sure I can have it?" she asked whilst stroking the wood reverently. It was likely worth more than everything she owned combined.

"My mother forced me to learn as a child and I haven't touched it since. If you like it so much, then I'm sure you'll do it justice." The white-haired lady gave the small girl a wrinkled but kind smile.

Alana's eyes moist with feeling as she grinned. She was such a sucker for the old woman. "I'll do my best to make you proud, Aunt Linda," she chirped excitedly. Her hands brushed the wood feverishly. Something that she could call her own and if she got good enough, she could try her hand at busking to earn some money. Her eyes were determined with renewed purpose and resolve. She had the drive, so she was halfway there.

1983 March

A honey-eyed, black-haired midget fidgeted nervously in front of the well-built house of one Jake Matthews. Said delinquent took the liberty of fl.i.c.k.i.n.g her forehead in an attempt to stop the girl's constant twitching.

"Relax, Alana. You look like you're about to get interrogated," he said with an exasperated huff.

"Does your dad know you're bringing a girl home?" She shot back defensively.

"Nah! I'm cool like that." He grinned and she paled. "I'm joking of course! I told him that I'm bringing my cute little bestie home. What do you take me for? Some ruffian off the street? I am a gentleman," he puffed his c.h.e.s.t out proudly.

"Could have fooled me with that ego," Alana grumbled petulantly and watched with hidden satisfaction as he deflated dramatically.

"You're so mean to me," he pouted. "That means you like me, right?" His pout switched to a sly grin as he teased her.

She whacked his head and rolled her eyes before schooling her expression. "Yes. I'm head over heels for your awesomeness." She replied in a monotone voice with an expressionless face. She walked past him before he could fire a comeback and knocked on his front door. She had washed her hair and clothes especially for this magnificent day and would mutilate her best friend if he dared do anything weird in front of his dad. The door soon opened, and she was greeted with a carbon copy of Jake. Truly this apple did not fall far from the tree.

"You must be Alana," Mr Matthews greeted with a smile and welcomed both children inside.

"Nice to meet you, Mr Matthews." She greeted politely.

"You as well. Jake talks about you a lot and it's great to see him with a sensible friend." Alana coughed a bit at the description. What sort of things had Jake been telling his old man?

"He mentioned you were interested in martial arts?" Alana's eyes darted to the a.d.u.l.t so quickly she could have sworn she heard her neck click. This guy… Wasn't he too straightforward?! Could this be the legendary cool dad figure? Her starry eyes appraised his casual attire and worn appearance. He looked more tired than cool. She frowned, a bit disappointed, and nodded in reply to his question.

"I'm fine with having you over to practice on the weekends with Jake as long as your guardian approves and you don't go beating up random brats at school, yeah?" Mr Matthews raised an eyebrow in her direction.

She clasped her fist in a formal bow with a grin that lit up her face. "Hai, Sensei!"

1983 May

Alana opened the apartment door with a smile as memories from the recent training session filtered through her mind. It was hard work, but the rewards were exhilarating. Her diet had changed recently to support the increased physical activity and she found herself eating with aunt Linda more often than not. On that topic, her violin lessons were also coming along quite nicely. She had finally found the motivation to visit the public library and discovered herself to have issued more than just music books when she returned.

She was pretty sure she gave the librarian a scare considering she was a six-year-old issuing history books. Mrs McDonald's face had been a cross between horror and fascination at the thickness of the published works. She vaguely remembered liking history and mathematics in her previous life, though she couldn't recall why exactly. Maybe she had been a m.a.s.o.c.h.i.s.t. She had a thirst for knowledge, that was for certain, but her motivation for liking the subjects seemed to have more to do with curiosity than any serious commitment to the fields. It was difficult to imagine seriously enjoying mathematics if she were honest. She was just finishing her high school education when she… passed on… so there were definite gaps in her knowledge. She still had a rather solid foundation, however, to work her way up from and the determination to do it.

She paused in the doorway as she heard the sound of retching from the bathroom. Putting her meagre belongings down she slowly approached the toilet and called out to her no doubt inebriated mother.

"Mum? I'm coming in alright," she called softly but loud enough for the woman to hear. She heard a sob in reply. The form hunched over the toilet bowl made no move as she approached and laid a hand on its shoulder. Pulling her mother's hair back she began to rub soothing circles on her back as Katherine continued to vomit into the toilet. A syringe lay abandoned on the sink. Her latest dose of drugs with unknown additives no doubt.

"Johnathon? Is that you? Don't worry about me," she slurred drunkenly. Alana sighed and wondered where her mother had hidden the alcohol bottles. "I need you to check up on sweet Alana. She should be home soon."

The young girl stared impassively at the familiar display where she once would have turned away from the intimacy of it. Her mother soon slipped off into oblivion again leaving her to guide her empty shell back to the bedroom.

"Goodnight," She smoothed her mum's hair one last time before making her way to her own bed.

October 3, 1983

"Once I was seven years old my momma told me, go make yourself some friends or you'll be lonely," Alana hummed the lyrics of the old and in actuality, still unwritten song absentmindedly as she skimmed a rather steamy French novel she'd found in the children's section of the library. Tsk. Tsk. They really should be more careful when categorising books. I mean, any innocent child could pick up this smut by accident. She paused at a rather vivid description and chuckled at the author's word choice. French translated rather interestingly at times. Her eyes flicked to the clock, 10:39 pm it said in red digital figures.

"Officially seven years old now." She smiled angelically with only the empty air as her witness and tucked the book away for the night. Seven was a sacred number in most religions if she recalled correctly. She rubbed her eyes tiredly fl.i.c.k.i.n.g them to the clock once more. Still 10:39. She wondered what tomorrow would bring.

Still 10:39. Still 10:39. It had been five minutes at least. Did she break the clock? She c.o.c.ked her head inquisitively and searched the rest of the room for possible answers to her dilemma. The room was empty as always, messy and cold. It was also dark, darker than it had been some minutes ago and getting darker. She breathed out heavily and watched the air before her fog up. Something was wrong. Her breathing hitched at the realisation and she slowly brought her knees up to her c.h.e.s.t. She could hear her heartbeat thumping loudly. That was wrong even more wrong. You weren't supposed to hear the sound of your own heart. An unnatural coldness was seeping into her bones but her efforts to shout for help were silenced as her throat too was gripped by the unknown force.

'I don't want to die. I don't want to die.' Her eyes slammed shut as panic paralysed her body. She knew this feeling. She knew this emptiness that crawled down her oesophagus and into her lungs. 'Stop it. Stop it! Stop it!' Her screams went unheard as the bittersweet absence of everything overtook her.

...

Fire. It burned the back of her throat like hot oil and she swiftly tipped a bottle of water down her throat. Her fingers flew across lettered keys as she decimated each enemy within her computer screen's view. Long, mocha fingers danced a quick tango to an invisible rhythm and another casualty was added to her name.

"Oi! Alexis calm it down over there! You might traumatise the players with your genius. Hahaha! It's a computer game. No need to take it so seriously, yeah?"

The brunette grinned c.o.c.kily at the red-haired girl next to her. "If you can't handle the heat get out of the kitchen," she purred as she sent yet another guild to the resurrection point. The world around her began to spin.

"Hey, big sis? You know how you're super smart and stuff?"

"What do you want?" Alexis asked her younger brother with a roll of her eyes. The boy was far too obvious when he wanted something.

"Mum says I need someone to supervise me if I want to go to the park," he explained with pleading gestures and a childish pout that only a wimp would fall for.

"Hmm…" She dragged out his anticipation, "Alright." Her vision tilted.

"Alexis, can you go grab your siblings and tell them we're having dinner," her mother called from over a campsite stove. She nodded distractedly and bookmarked the page of her novel before beginning the mission of finding her dearest siblings. The surrounding forest was not too dense and gave way as she pushed past the leafy foliage in the direction of the nearby river. She never found them.

There was pitch black nothingness from which a cold hand withdrew the essence of a withered being.

"At peace, child." The touch was featherlight and more energy than matter as it manoeuvred her soul into its new container. Its voice was ancient, decaying and growing at the same time. It carried anger and betrayal, power and resignation in its tone. She clung to the coldness in confusion not wanting to part so soon. Did it no longer care for her? The being c.a.r.e.s.sed the wisp of life in response to the thought before releasing it softly. "Not yet," it sang with amus.e.m.e.nt.

...

The world finally righted itself with a sudden jerk. Alana's eyes snapped open, her heart racing and mind disorientated due to the visions. Gilded halls of white marble and stone greeted her eyes. The darkness and cold seemed a bitter memory replaced with soft candlelight, lush carpets and intricate tapestries.

"You are home," the words jolted Alana, no Alexis, from her reverie. She whirled her head around to find a tall figure smiling down at her sitting body and stood up quickly to create some distance between herself and the unknown person.

"Who are you?" She asked the man stiffly. He was old with hair greying at his temples and a short beard that housed a secretive smile. His eyes were an electric blue that brimmed with life and energy. That smile though was giving off some serious paedophile vibes with its creepy grandfatherliness.

"Nought but a child of Gaia as you are."

"I said who not what," She snapped back. Her reacquired memories burned uncomfortably in her throat. "Where am I?"

"Purgatory." There was no malice in the voice.

"I… died… again?" She trembled slightly at the thought. Seven years was all she had to that existence. What a joke.

"No, but you may wish you had," the man spoke with a pitying glance. "Come." He was already moving before she could answer, and she was forced to follow with no small amount of trepidation. The man was obviously insane though to what degree she had yet to determine.

"My name is Merlot, however, you may call me Uncle if you wish. Your brethren do." His words were followed by an uneasy silence as the two wove through a series of passages.

"Why am I here?" Alana sighed tiredly and felt his gaze on her. She did not care to meet it and instead glanced at one of the tapestries covering the wall. It seemed to depict the three fates with one of the Moirai in the process of cutting a thread. A lovely thought.

"You were not able to come here at the right time. So, we made time."

"We?" She caught up to him as he opened the final door. Her questions were forgotten as the air left her lungs for a good few minutes. The room itself was gargantuan but that was not what captivated her, nor was it the allure of the architecture. What held her attention was the books upon books stacked on the branching shelves which reached up a seemingly impossible distance with no ceiling in sight. The focus of the room was a sunken, circular seating area.

"Welcome to Gaia's Sanctuary, or her Library, if you prefer," Merlot signalled the girl to follow him into the centre of the space where a bonsai tree sat perched on a small pedestal above a calm moon pool.

"This is our worlds tree," he gestured grandly at the small pot plant. His eyes were once again twinkling madly as though the plant held the secrets of the universe.

"It appears to be rather small," Alana commented with an embarrassed cough. Very small in fact. Maybe it was bigger on the inside or something? "Wait a minute, you said worlds as in plural." She pinned that man with a dissecting gaze that had once made her siblings spill their treacherous guts in submission.

"Indeed. Have a look for yourself." He gestured towards the water. She grimaced as she edged closer and peered down. Past the surface of the water was a network of roots that seemed to have woven themselves deep below the library. In the curls of these roots were small pockets of swirling matter no bigger than marbles. They came in a variety of shapes and colours with some appearing to stretch and twist in the water. She tilted her head in fascination. There was an almost ethereal beauty to the small beads of life. They seemed to have a gravity of their own that pulled uncomfortably at her c.h.e.s.t. She came to her senses just in time to retract the arm that had unknowingly reached out to touch the water. She cast the old man a glance.

"These are…"

"Worlds or rather dimensions."

"And you…"

"Keep track of them of course. As Gaia's children, it is our responsibility to record the history of each and every world as well as ensure their continuous cycle of creation and destruction." She stared at the man with an unreadable expression.

"Assuming that I believe you, which I don't, why and how are you Gaia's 'children'? I don't suppose you mean Gaia as in the personification of Earth in Greek mythology? How many of you are there? You said I was one of you but how would I know? How on earth did I get dragged into this?" The last question was growled with arms gesturing wildly at the offending surroundings. Merlot took a seat on the pool's edge with his weathered features turning pensive.

"Gaia has created 42 of us including you. I say created using the loosest definition of the word as Gaia is not conscious in the traditional sense but rather a force which perpetuates change in the cosmos. She, or He if you like, crafts our souls from her own immortal essence and the remnants of dying worlds. Our souls cannot be consumed or destroyed by any deities. Even after Death, our souls merely bind to a new body for the next lifetime, slipping between worlds like water through rocks." Alana listened with clenched fists remembering the feeling of her soul being stretched in the void and the voice that had lulled her into contentment.

"What happened to my soul when I died?" She asked quietly.

The look he shot her was hesitant, to say the least, but he continued.

"To my knowledge, your soul was not placed in the correct body by the presiding deity of life and you were reaped by death at the end of your time. He recognised your soul as immortal and chose to keep it for his own… entertainment. He seems to have nominated himself as your patron deity." He quickly explained, "A Deity may choose to bind their soul to a child of Gaia and become their Patron for the length of their existence. As their Patron, they are obligated to supervise every world their child travels to and have claim to the time their child spends between worlds. Deities depend on the belief of mortal souls and the consumption of lesser deities to exist. This is why weaker deities may bind to a child to have them gather believers on their behalf. Should a deity be consumed by a stronger one, however, their child also ceases to exist and returns to Gaia to be recrafted."

Alana stared at the man for several minutes as she processed the information in all of its detail. Her inner dialogue was decidedly not as still as her body. I got soul bonded to death because he likes stretching my soul out like bungee gum! Curse that bastard and his bloody, cold existence! Her mind was currently a pile of wailing goo.

"Just how long am I going to live? I'm assuming that Death is a rather strong deity," She asked with a small voice. The pity in Merlots gaze had returned with a vengeance.

"An immortal soul can live forever in a cycle of reincarnation. As for Death's lifespan, my own patron is Life who exists in all worlds much like your own. Suffice to say…"

"I have essentially guaranteed immortality," Alana closed her eyes to regain her bearings. The room was silent but if you listened very carefully you could hear the sound of her sanity breaking. She rubbed the heels of her palms into her eyes and glared at the marble flooring. A deep breath and she shoved all her animosity out in one long exhale. How did that quote go again?

'Holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.'

She could hardly expect Gaia or Death to spontaneously combust, so she had no other choice but to let it go if she wished to live with any semblance of contentment. She was no Sasuke Uchiha. Revenge was too taxing and futile in this case. That was not to say that she wouldn't give the primordial beings a piece of her mind should she ever encounter them.

"Forever is an awfully long time," Alana chuckled, obviously disarming Merlot with her calmness. He quickly regained enough sense to pat her on the back supportively.

"You are not alone, dear Alexis. Deities are long-lived, especially those with the strength to force a soul bond on our kind."

She nodded numbly at the words. Reincarnation was indeed a curse. To be reincarnated endlessly into world after world by the will of a higher force. Was that not a type of torture in and of itself? She supposed that she now at least had the small mercy of knowing how she came to be in another world. Not many would be so blessed.

"Is there anything else? Rules? Punishments?" She inquired half-heartedly. Merlot nodded approvingly before reaching for her hand and baring the girl's wrist alongside his own. A black triskelion appeared.

"This is your memory log. Memories are blanked after each life and it usually takes an exceptionally strong emotional trauma to unlock them. When this happens, the memory of your first visit to the sanctuary will return while the others," he tapped her wrist, "Are optional to remember. Though, I should warn you that it is an all or nothing choice. You either remember every past life or none at all." Alana nodded at the logic. With so many lives, it was unlikely that they would all be pleasant to remember in such detail. From what she could tell, the mark basically ensured an eidetic memory.

"The rules are more unspoken than official and flexible to circ.u.mstances. No destroying the world or breaking dimensions, no doing anything which would endanger another child of Gaia in the future and no holding grudges against another child should you encounter another during your reincarnation. I cannot speak of punishments, but your deity has a certain measure of power over you, so you'd best take care. This library holds the worlds of every book ever written, every story ever told, every script ever thought of and every dream ever dreamt. They are the paths to different worlds where realms have brushed against each other. It is sacred to us, our home and point of reincarnation," he smiled and released her hands.

"I do believe our time is up. I will see you in the next life perhaps, young Alexis." Just like that, the world went dark again.

Edited 24.10.2019