P R O M P T

---

True to Gaoler nature, Twilight and Genesis were never much for “things.” One a famed enchantress and the other a revolutionary philosopher, both parents used the term “mind over matter” almost like a key moral compass. When their first nest, a nest of two, hatched, the elder sister’s future was clear. She was naturally observant, and would serve well as a clan guard. By contrast, her brother seemed to just gaze into space, always lost in his own thought. He would sit for hours on end just watching the dragons in the clan and etching into the glacial floor whatever he saw as he aged. Genesis believed he was just another brilliant mind like his father, though Twilight sensed another essence— a magical aura of sorts.

---

---

Steele crept silently through the snow, her tiny feet blending into the grey of twilight. She’d been following the footprints for hours now, growing progressively angrier as time went on. Mentally, she was compiling a list of all the things she wished to say to her parents, to reprimand them for forcing her into this role. This exercise was helpful, letting her get out all the anger so that when she returned home, she could be that dutiful, respectful daughter again.

“Please, help me. I know you’re there, within that prison.”
He had no voice, so he could only reach out with his false talons and swipe at her. But free of her restraints, she was shifting faster than he could move his shell. She was a bloody skydancer, a frightened fae, a sobbing blue tundra melting into her own tears. One moment she existed, the next she was beyond the world, laughing at him from the void. And then she was there again, crumpled on a pile of snow, whimpering piteously.
Ah. He thought. She’s bound here too, in some sense.
With this new knowledge, he waited patiently, feigning frustration and confusion until she dropped her guard and made a mistake. In her transition from form to form, he found and opening, and grabbed for her with what lay within his shell.
“You lied, you tricked me!” She shrieked, trying to shake herself free. “You can escape. If that is so, why haven’t you already?”
I didn’t lie. He wanted to say. You underestimated me, all on your own.
Well, it didn’t matter what she thought. Trapped in existence against their will, none of her kind could survive long. Soon, she was gone, returned to whichever plane she’d come from. He let out a breath, releasing the air of the world beyond, then began the reunification process. He had to reforge the bonds between his real self and his false prison. It felt as though he was cramming something large into a far smaller vessel, and the inherent wrongness made him feel nauseous. He heard her voice screaming in his mind: “Why haven’t you already?”
Why am I doing this? Why haven’t I-
The figure came out from beyond the tall trees, her gray fun hiding the ghostly gray bones that only he could see. The enmity shining from every fragment of her self blinded him, and he became disoriented. She glided down, and it was too much, too much, too-

Scowling, Steele landed in front of her brother. His cold, frightened eyes looked beyond her. The sight of them was enough for her to shiver with revulsion.
“Wake up. We’re going home.”

He reached out with his...his shell. He realized that the process was complete. He was fully reunited with his shell, and he felt a sudden terror. His true self would be gone soon, hidden away in the back of his mind. And all that would be left was the shell. Why haven’t I left?

“Did you hear me?” She shouted, and was immediately ashamed at losing her temper.
Yes.
“Yes, sorry.” He said. And with those words, he was gone.

Steele led her silent brother back to his empty room and gave her report. “He was sleepwalking again, that’s all.” She said, proud that her anger wasn’t seeping into her voice. Her father nodded, smiling almost wistfully. Her mother’s strange red eyes had a worrying glint to them, though, and Steele excused herself as soon as she could.

I.
I am.
I am myself.
I am myself, and I am here.
Here...somewhere in this endless darkness, I am.
He felt around for the edge of his prison, but if there was one, it wasn’t within his reach. So he wandered aimlessly, trudging onward. Sometimes he was walking through mud, sometimes he was swimming through lava, dying and undying over and over again. And sometimes his feet froze, and he turned to ice. He’d wait for an eternity, and then he’d thaw out and keep on walking. He had no eyes, but at times he thought he could see little specks of light dancing in and out of his vision. They were a deep violet, and they smiled at him. In those periods of frozen agony, they kept him from losing his sanity.
“Thank you.” They kept saying. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
He thought he might deserve their gratitude, but he couldn’t decide why. Images flashed before him: sitting on a fiery stage, shouting foreign word; a land of water, standing by a whirlpool to the deep; a golden effigy of someone...him?
He was momentarily confused, and realized that none of those things existed in this world. They must be in the place he was heading, the false world.
I’ve existed before, I must have. What happened to me?
And he was acutely aware that he had existed a thousand times before, but he couldn’t summon up the memories of those past selves he so desperately wished to understand. Overcome with frustration and grief, he lost himself for another eternity.
When he returned to consciousness, he was shaking, shivering in fear. He resolved not to lose himself to nothingness again, and calmed, he moved onward.
The terrain became rockier, the smooth ground turning jagged and cutting his feet at every step. But every injury was soon healed, and he noticed that if I decided to, he could stop feeling the pain altogether. And yet, after his last mistake, he decided the pain was good if it would keep him awake.
I’m getting closer.
And he was, though he could not comprehend what that meant.

How many years had it been? Now fully grown, Steele found it hard to put herself in the shoes of the little dragon who’d run through the snow that night, furiously searching for her odd little sleepwalking brother. She’d never say it out loud, but she was grateful to him. Since then, he hadn’t wandered out of his room. In fact, he hadn’t done anything. His last words to her had been an apology, and with the benefit of hindsight, she chose to interpret them as an agreement to not cause her so much trouble in the future. And if that had been his plan, he’d succeeded. Their mother’s magic kept him nourished and alive, and besides that, he needed nothing else. Certainly, it was painful for her parents to see him like that. They tried to understand him, to explain him, to find a justification for why he’d been unresponsive since hatchling-hood. It was all a defense mechanism, to convince themselves that they had no regrets about failing to save him, that he was perfect the way he was.
They came up with theorems and philosophical frameworks, experiments and essays, all nonsense propagated to ease their own pain.
But Steele felt no inclination to point out the uselessness of it all. It was helpful to have her brother out of the way. Without him to take care of, she could focus on her duties to the clan, protecting those who actually wished to be protected.

At some point, he must have reached the edge, because he found himself morphing and changing, being pulled out of the darkness as if he was experiencing a second birth. It took a moment to understand the implications.
I’m returning. He realized. I’ll see that false world again, through those beautiful false eyes.
He was conscious of his shell again, for the first time since becoming this new self. He was surrounded by the cold, something that had been foreign to him during his time in his reality. It would’ve been too much, had he lacked the ability to ease himself slowly into his shell’s senses, growing more and more aware at his own pace, until he had full control of that body. A figure passed by, its bones glowing so brightly that he couldn’t stand it. He was tempted to withdraw, but he hesitated, feeling certain that it was better to stay as he was for the moment.
It came closer, screaming out a sound that should have been horrific, but was somehow a thing of beauty. Closer, closer, until it was touching his shell, smothering him in warmth.

Steele heard her father’s voice, shouting something from nearby. Feeling uneasy, she followed the sound and came to the place where her brother lived. With a jolt, she saw that some semblance of life had returned to his formerly empty eyes.

From afar, he saw a gray figure, watching him stiffly. And her gaze was enough to remind him of a voice he’d heard so long ago, from another being that looked upon him with judgement. “You can escape.” It had said. “If that is so, why haven’t you already?”

“Steele.” He said, and Steele’s father made a strange, joyful sound. Her brother’s voice chilled her heart, but she wasn’t repulsed by it as she had once been. Loathe as she was to admit it, she was curious: who was her brother, and who had he been? So she stayed standing there, anticipating the answers.

With those words, he felt himself drifting away again, but he thought something besides his shell might remain. A piece of his true self, if not the whole. He was certain that there was something in this false world that his past selves had valued enough to stay trapped in their prison. He decided to trust their judgement.