Alexander slowly entered the forest. His mind, hypnotized by the voice calling his name — feminine, familiar, and gentle — practically pulled him deeper into the woods.
Like an invisible magnet, or more precisely, like a spider's web, it had been tied to his body, pulling him; he, in turn, seemed to accept the current of the tide.
As he approached the darkness between the trees, two figures, vaguely familiar for some reason, could be seen by a small spherical light source. It was a moving image.
He approached with large, carefree steps. He didn't seem to care about his surroundings.
Voices could be heard from the light source, and with every step, they grew louder.
When he approached the floating ball of light, it stopped shining and fell into the palm of his hand — which, by some instinct, was stretched out.
Without the glow, the image became clear. He blinked.
Two joyful figures could be seen in the sphere. They were happy, and in some way, it was possible to understand that this was an alternate vision of something.
The moment Alexander focused on the image for a few seconds, in response, he fell backward.
The ball fell to the ground, rolling through the earth — in fact, it rolled in the empty dark. There was nothing around it anymore, just a complete environment of nothingness.
He blinked a few times, looking around, without any significant expression or reaction.
What he saw was nothing more, nothing less, than his mother… and his father.
Older, without having a child…
***
Evandro gazed at the woman and approached the floating image in motion.
Gradually, as he got closer, the image in motion, which had once been a painting, now transformed into something real.
Filaments of light spread across the 'nothingness' environment, placing Evandro within it.
It was the square of his village. The scene had bodies of soldiers he had killed lying on the ground. The place was completely empty.
Except for one living soul: a thin woman, dressed in a simple brown tunic. Black, straight, and long hair; a brown face; around 20-30 years old.
She was kneeling sideways on the ground. Her legs were marked, slightly purple, indicating she had been there for a long time.
Her face bore faint traces of blood.
She was hunched over, with her face buried in a small piece of rag, apparently from the soldier's garment.
Somewhat resolute, he approached the woman.
A little closer, he quickly recognized the man. The soldier had pierced him in the neck with a spear.
Evandro bit his lip and took two more silent steps, now less than two meters away from the woman.
"Madam?"
His lips trembled. And the silence, as always, surrounded him — deathly silent.
"S-sorry…"
The woman's head spun quickly.
The face that was revealed was completely disfigured. Her face was partially burned, and she seemed to be crying blood. She also had no chin.
Evandro blinked and took a few steps back. His face grew grim abruptly.
The woman smiled in a macabre way, with what was left of her face. Then, she let out a low growl.
Evandro stepped forward, with some hope.
"Err…" He tried to say something, but the macabre woman smiling and staring now directly into his eyes made him even more uncomfortable.
A silence fell as she stared at him.
RAAAA!!!
A terrifying roar in an agonized and distorted voice.
She lunged and jumped directly at him, with no chance for him to react.
***
In the blink of an eye, Alexander was transported to another place.
Around him, a beautiful and well-decorated house, a symbol of wealth.
Time reversed, and now the room was empty.
It was a square environment, built with some type of visibly firm quality wood. Painted in a thick beige color, as thick as a hand.
To the right, there was a polished mahogany door with some carvings.
Everything looked beautiful and refined.
Alexander soon realized he was transparent, and he couldn't move; furthermore, he was at the top of the back wall, with a total view of the room.
Suddenly, from the right side, a young woman appeared, opening the door.
She wore a sleeveless dress that reached just below the knees — it was blue, made of fine silk.
His mother — named Auge — had a beautiful smile on her face. Skin as white as snow and a youthful appearance that surprised him.
Time advanced, and multiple things happened in a few seconds.
Now, the room was luxuriously decorated, and there stood a man, whom he quickly judged to be his father. But he couldn't see his face because the man was facing away.
However, he could notice the muscles in his face moving, indicating a smile.
Time advanced again; his mother was pregnant, and the baby was ready to be born. They rushed out the door.
Then, noticing through the window behind the sofa, he saw time speeding by for several days.
The door opened, and his father and mother came through. Her belly was noticeably smaller, and she was crying heavily.
Behind her, his father rushed in, helping her sit.
Time accelerated once more.
Some filaments of tears slid down Alexander's transparent body.
The couple was now sitting on the sofa, looking up at the wall. It was almost as if they could see Alexander watching them.
The atmosphere had the appearance of a funeral, and everyone seemed as melancholic as they should.
And once again, there was a temporal advance.
His mother entered through the left door with a frown and stopped in the middle of the room, crossing her arms.
Right behind her came his father.
She turned around. They looked at each other for a few seconds; then, they kissed.
Time, in its cruelty, moved forward relentlessly for Alexander.
The family seemed to have been reborn. The couple appeared happy.
What he saw now were many moments, from laughter to hugs, kisses, dances, and visits…
Alexander felt a tightness in his chest. It was as if he had been stabbed.
He felt… useless.