From an old pain; to a new fear.

I hate sleeping...

As I shovel down more and more food, compensating for starving myself for two days; I can only think of my dreams, and nightmares. Wether its the resurrected fragments of my mind possibly running amok on this world, or my old life haunting me; both cut deep, and drink ungraciously from vita they drain from my shard of a soul.

"Hey, you ok, big guy?" Asks Ashes, seeing a trouble look on my face; my 'face', a facade, an untruth I wear as flesh.

"No." I answer back, before ripping the tender sinew from bone; at least I can enjoy the meat we ordered from the tavern.

Looking around, this tavern is rather nice. The tables and chairs are solid, and pleasant to sit at. The rugs that lay on some of the floor are all soft, and kept very clean. Most interesting of all, the wooden planks of the walls, and floors, have quite interesting paint work. Each individual plank seems to have been first painted a simple white; then much later, more paint was applied to tell little stories, each one unique to the plank. A band of sailors fighting giant squid-like things. A group of knights fighting an orc; who used another knight as a club. A smith creating a man of metal. Looking over to the serving bar, I see the dwarf who runs the tavern; Glim, or something.

I stand and call to him. "What's the story with the little mosaics?"

"Oh, well, Dark One..." He calls back; clearly not the same dwarf as the one from yesterday, as his voice is too high pitched. "...me brother Grum makes 'em for any guests he drinks with. Really adds value to the place; little drinking stories turned into parts of the tavern. Catches the eye, sticks in the memory; makes a good story."

"That's... intresting." I say, taking my seat once more; maybe some chatter will keep my mind together, at least for now... "Do you guys recognize any of those stories."

"I know that one..." Says Zana; pointing at a depiction of a man with strange eyes, eating an orange fruit. "That's Chron, finding the island Chronatoa, and the Time-Fruit that grows there."

"D-did someone say Time-Fruit?" Scott stutters out, walking down the staircase; hearing Zana's words.

"Yeah, why'd you ask?" Ashes wonders aloud. "We know you've got 'time' stuff going on with you; any relation?"

"No... maybe... yes." The tailor says, taking the other seat by Zana. "More accurately, my mother did; when she was pregnant with me and..."

"That explains a lot..."

"Your ma did what!?"

"That s-seems unsafe."

Scott; barraged by words, exclaims. "Well, it wasn't her fault! A stranger gave it to her in a fruit basket; along with a bunch of other fruits. Do you think everyone knows what the damn things look like? Anyway, she made a pie with the thing. My parents ate it, and all of a sudden, they could do this."

Suddenly, a second Scott appears, snatching the hat off Zana and placing it on Ashes. As soon as its finished with its 'action', as the Twins described it, it seems to dissolve into sand; which then fades into nothingness.

"So that's what you were doing in our fight. What about when I hit that thing?" I ask; man, maybe I should have picked that option...

The sand man looks a bit miffed at my words, saying. "That 'thing' is me, in another timeline. Two choices, made at once. I can choose to 'un-make' the choice as it happens; like when you hit me before I could land a hit with both of my selves. If I proceeded with the choice, your blow would have been more than just a sensation."

"So you feel the sensations of your double?" I ask; perking a brow at the 'implications'.

Scott nods in confirmation; saying. "Yes, Its like... having two bodies, but one mind... what are you snickering about, Mohun?"

Ashes, chuckling as though someone were tickling her; she answers as she puts the hat back on Zana's head."Theres... other uses for that... besides fighting..."

She then makes a gesture with her hands; a finger going into a hole. My thoughts exactly...

Both the Barbarian and Sorcerer at the table begin blushing madly; with the latter deciding to hide her face inside her headwear, and the former simply getting angry. "Oh how dare... I would never use my gift in such a way! You... you..."

"Barbarian?" Says the Artisan; sticking her tongue out at Scott.

Before the fighting can continue, Gabriella and Cilla walk down the stairs; the Red Hood calls out. "We're leaving, finish up your bickering."

"Ugh... fine."

"Prude..."

"What did you call me!?"

This continued, even as we left the tavern; maybe more isn't actually 'merrier' when it comes to companions... well, it is funny. I even feel a twitch at my lips, curling upwards.

The past is half-forgotten, and painful.

The future is frightening, and unknown.

But the present... for now at least; It has friends.