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Clancy is happy when he realises he woke up. The sun touches the tent, making its way through the thick fabric, reaches his skin, and feels warm on it...
It means that a new day has begun.
He had waited for it.
He couldn't sleep properly for half of the night, his thoughts were bothering him. Thoughts, reflections... Ideas... Everything that pressed on his skull, making him toss and turn in bed, everything that he wanted to divide in half, to get rid of partially. To share with the Torchbearer.
Cause Torchbearer was... He was wise and clever when they were still studying, and he is the same now, as a matter of fact. It's just that behind the dryness and brevity, the lack of bravado that Clancy knew from lectures and seminars, one couldn't see how much thought went into every short sentence, command or instruction.
It all came out in conversations.
They finally started talking.
And now... It's a kind of craving, a desire to talk about everything, about every thought and idea, to not miss anything, to grab them all and share them, to calculate everything, every detail of the plan, to see every point as if it were in nine dimensions, at least.
So he has to hurry, while all that night's pondering is still in his head, still fresh, still pulsates...
Clancy steps out of the tent. The Torchbearer is leaning against a nearby tree.
He is holding some papers, his face is impatient, which disappears when his eyes meet Clancy's.
–Morning. Have a minute to talk? – a serious tone, takes two steps forward and stops.
Clancy nods. Says:
–Yep, but let me at least come to my senses first...
The small talk is only to honor some norms, because Clancy would have been ready to...
"Maybe we should save time? Sleep in the same tent or something?…"
Clancy washes the stupid thought off his face with cold water. He looks in the mirror. He sees someone else's reflection behind his own. He turns around quickly.
–Let's go,– Clancy sounds overly collected, serious. He points to the papers in the other person's hand: –What d'you have there?
–I don't know for sure…– the Torchbearer shrugs,– Something useful, I hope.
***
The kerosene lamp in the tent remained on all night.
It was as if Clancy had returned to those distant times when he was shined by cold neon and had questions laid out in front of him that needed to be solved. Only... Back then, he did it all for the sake of others. Now – against them.
"We don't know much about this thing. 'Cause… It's about the soul, but do they have one?"
This question from the Torchbearer constantly echoed in his head, hitting the walls of his skull like a ball would hit an iron-cast bathtub.
The soul.
The movement of the soul.
Psychokinesis.
Notes made in an all-too-familiar handwriting. Chaotic, scattered information, missing logical connecting elements...
Clancy worked all night to put it all together. He recalled such techniques that he felt insanely smart. He felt good, elated.
So... A new day? A new search for the Torchbearer, to pour everything into his head and let him digest it, although... No, this is not his strongest side. The Torchbearer is smart, but definitely not in a field dominated by numbers.
And Clancy doesn't want him to feel weaker than him. So...
He needs to find him, talk to him, or rather, tell him and explain, and...
There he is. On the rock closest to the tent.
***
It was good that at least he understood physics properly.
He was afraid that Clancy would start explaining everything in mathematical terms, but he just said that everything he had worked out overnight was anyhow holding together. But there was no time, they had to try it the way it was.
"Are you in?"
The Torchbearer nodded then. But he did not expect this question at all. He did not expect that this time Clancy would call him to follow him.
Frequency. A physical concept. They needed frequency. Clancy thought it was hidden deep in the forest, in the lowlands, where the earth smelled damp and ferns grew.
Now they are here. Sitting back to back on damp soft coldness. Now he needs to relax, close his eyes...
–You're way too tense,– Clancy says, irritated. – If you… We're gonna sit here all day!
The Torchbearer sighs. If he knew how to relax, he would...
–Give me your hand,– Clancy says quietly, reaching out blindly. The Torchbearer touches the other man's palm, which is cold for some reason. He squeezes it.
–Is this supposed to help?– he asks Clancy.
–I don't know,– he admits, – but it'll help us find each other faster when we get there.
The Torchbearer nods silently. He holds onto Clancy, closes his eyes. He hears his voice:
–Think of something good. Try to hear it...
– A lullaby?– suggests the Torchbearer.
–Don't do this to me, honey,– Clancy says slowly. The sad smile on his lips is almost maginary.
– I'm sorry, I didn't mean to,– says the Torchbearer, ashamed.
He keeps forgetting that Clancy had no parents. And there was no mother to sing him the lullaby either.
It's sad. But the past is static and unmoving, and now they have to move on. While staying in place.
***
At first, it's not even noise, but a feeling of pressure from it. Vibration: steady, pressing.
There is too much energy around.
And noise, loud, overwhelming. It's bright only from the sound, but then his eyesight gets involved, and the dimness of the colored spots becomes brighter.
Infinity. An immense number of eyes directed at him.
It's scary.
“I need to ground myself... Yes...”
The feeling in his hand is foreign, unusual. But it's fire, he's holding fire. It is familiar. It calms him down.
In his other hand he has Clancy's clothes. Where did they come from?
And… where is Clancy?
–Watch out stepping down,– an unfamiliar voice echoes as if in his head.
The Torchbearer looks down, and there are indeed stairs. And there are also excellent quality tactical boots on his feet.
***
Clancy is nervous. He's trying his best not to show it, not to ruin someone else's show.
Because he is the show now, he knows it, he has already been among the crowd of people who shared his views.
But the Torchbearer has not. And Clancy really didn't know that he was going to be there so soon. So... suddenly.
But the psychokinetic connection, worked out only tonight, decided that their souls belonged here. Something... something necessary has to happen here for them to prepare themselves for the battle.
So...
The Torchbearer appears next to them. He looks quite... composed, for a man who is afraid of a large number of people around him. He was in his youth, at least.
But now he's here, after all, it's already happened. He stretches out his hand and gives Clancy a jacket he recognizes... Only this one is made of better quality material than the original.
Clancy puts it on. He feels... Better, more like himself.
And everyone is looking at him being like that. And he is looking forward. His eyes are drawn there automatically.
There's a stage ahead. They have to perform, or something? Terrible, no, the Torchbearer will never...
And then he sees. He sees what was hidden. From him, from both of them.
He sees a city that they have to conquer. Like... like Tyler and Josh conquering the stage?
Symbolically, perhaps, this is the lesson. They should not be afraid to take this step. They have to be confident, they have to be together.
Even if the crowd is shouting not to go there, they have to do it here, in this world, the event that is inevitably waiting for them in the other.
In the one, where they were from.
