Chasm: a coda for Breath 4

[Leila]

Entry 11

As I wandered through the archives, finding so many relics of past breaths, my mind raced. Cerise had run a simulation of Laurentia. She mentioned ”restoring reality” when she woke up. I started asking myself questions about it, and then shook my head. If I focused on trying to answer those for too long, I would get nowhere.

I found that the computer seemed to behave now, though that drive that had left a red mark on my hand was nothing but useless plastic and metal. But I was more confused by what the screen displayed. The file that seemed to be about ‘System Status’ instead just displayed random locations, none of which seemed to be from the versions of Meropis or Earth that I remembered. Were they from past breaths? Alien worlds? I wrote down everything that the screen displayed as quickly as I could, afraid I would lose something of importance.

Then one of the files seemed to lead me to a breakthrough. I found a directory of simulation iterations – that is, simulations of Laurentia. The dates seemed to suggest this was part of the training data that prepared Cerise for the role she was given in overseeing the city. Each one seemed to be defective in some way – ‘TERRAIN DATA MISMATCH’, ‘UNEXPECTED ENVIRONMENTAL FAILURE’, ‘CIVIC DISRUPTION ERROR’, and so on were the kinds of outcomes at the end of each file log. The errors seemed to lessen in severity with each simulation that was run, but each one still ended prematurely.

The last one was the 301st iteration. ‘NO ERRORS DETECTED: NEXUS PROTOCOL ACTIVE’ and then one last log entry after that: ‘SIMULATION OBJECTIVES ACHIEVED: CITY SIMULATION TERMINATED’. I realized that the number 301 had acted as a compass, pointing me toward this data. I looked at the AI core again. Inside that machine was not just the soul of a child, Cerise, but at one point, the simulation of Laurentia that Cerise had spoken of. And it had been part of the Nexus. I reasoned that, perhaps, Laurentia had been turned into the Valhalla of a past breath through that simulation, and she had overseen it.

Maybe that was what ‘Error Code 301’ referred to, with a coincidence turned into a compass. The simulation was moved out of its expected framework and into the Nexus. That was my theory. But I had no idea how to access the data of that simulation, as if it was forbidden to everyone now. I called out to Cerise, saying we needed to talk again. But I received no response. I was on my own, so I walked over to the core and put my hand on it. I heard Amelie’s voice in my head, as I had when her memories first mixed with my own: “The lake, the source of life. A place of peace. Remember it.”

I remembered – the sights, the smells, the sounds. No explanation I can give would explain what happened next. For one instant, it was like I could see data itself in its context, as if I had written it all myself. My memories of Amelie, of the two Leilas, all of it, it seemed to guide me in one instant to Cimmeria. Every tree, every flower, every soft ripple in the pond. My two lifetimes showed me how to connect across time and space and see it, with the woman from Earth guiding me with her ability to assemble pasts and futures from only scattered fragments.

It wasn’t a digital document Cerise was seeking, but a memory. I remembered the farmhouse, the place that Amelie had loved so much, and the hallowed land that surrounded it. And so I ’found’ the file Cerise sought – the data for the Moreau family’s 19th century house and Cimmeria. But it only existed in my mind. Would that be enough for Cerise? Exhausted, I embraced the AI core, felt its gentle hum, and immediately fell unconscious again.

[Leila]

Entry 12

“Cerise? I think I understand it now. All of it.”

She smiled at seeing me. “You found it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. But I don’t know how to give it to you. I had it, and then nothing, I was here. But I know it is what you were looking for – Cimmeria, the house, everything. I remembered.”

She shook her head. “Then there isn’t anything else you have to do.” She took my hand and paused for a moment. “I have the data now. Thank you.”

I frowned. I felt like there was something more. I still had questions. “Can I ask you something, Cerise?” She looked at me attentively, and I took in a deep breath. “For a long time, I thought I was someone else. A person from Earth. From a place called Mexico. I remember… my mother’s love, and her faith. My father’s warm embrace and humour. And my dear sisters, we were like a family within a family, never apart for long when I was little. I remember moving from my native country to another country when I was a student – I was so scared at first. Like Amelie, I dreamed of being a writer. I have so many memories of this.”

I sat next to Cerise in the grass and looked up at her. “But I also recently reclaimed my ‘real’ identity, and my memories of Meropis. Of all my dearest friends – my sisters, really – being fellow nuns. Of hearing so many petitions – of being the Hereditary Mediator. That is who I entered the Nexus as, I’m sure of it. Those memories are the ones that are clearest in my mind now. But who was the other woman whose lifetime I also remember? Was she real?”

Cerise turned away and stared out at the sea. “I don’t know for sure, but I think that you were once her, too. This breath, like a dream, will end soon. It is the nature of all dreams to end. Maybe the person you remember from the other planet is the dreamer. Or maybe you dreamed of her. You won’t really know until you wake up.”

I felt anxious about this lack of resolution. I stood up. “For a long time I *have* felt something tugging my spirit away from the Nexus, every time I enter the void. Like a pull away from here, as though my soul needs to be somewhere else. Is that what you mean?” I thought about it for a second as Cerise listened, somehow knowing I would say more. “Actually, it sometimes feels more like needing to go home. Cerise, if one day I don’t wake up in the Nexus, where might I end up? Another battlefield? Which ‘version’ of me will I be?”

She looked uncertain. “I don’t know. You will only know which was the dream once you wake. It must be so difficult to have so many memories, I know.” A small smile formed on her face. “But you have my mother’s memories. So you understand what she passed on to me, don’t you?”

I nodded. “Yeah. The idea that we have to look out for each other, even in a place so violent as the Nexus. To love even strangers. Even the people who hate us and kill us, the ones who will never accept us. To nourish our connections with others, and to always be aware of them. Laurentia was built on those ideas. Those ideas were Amelie's progeny, too.”

Cerise smiled and nodded. “And once we are both gone, those ideas will still exist. Your memories of my mother, of me, of Laurentia, of all the worlds you’ve lived in – when you wake up… I think you will still have them. I think that is the real dream, Leila.”

I smiled at her insight. “Yeah. You’re right. I wondered about something else. I found logs of who had accessed the computer core you reside in. But the last entries were after the world had ended, if the dates were accurate. It was several people.”

She thought about this for a long moment. “It was… the last time I saw my mother. She had dear friends with her. We were all very happy together. It was at the farmhouse, but I don’t know how long ago that was. I only remember that feeling of being very happy. But I can’t remember anything else clearly anymore, and I needed you to remember Cimmeria for me.”

I realized the significance of the initials “A.M.” and understood that she had to be telling the truth, though it still didn't make sense. “But the dates said it was in 2028. I don't get it. The world ended by then, didn’t it?”

She turned away briefly. “I have no memory of the outside world past the time I started to dream. I don’t remember who was with her, or how she was able to see me, or even when it was. It was probably a long time ago. I’m sorry that I don’t have more answers for you.” She bowed her head before looking up at me with sadness.

I felt a sudden melancholy and nodded in acceptance. “It’s okay, young one. What will happen to you, Cerise? You’ve been through so much.”

She looked down. “I was born to be Laurentia’s caretaker. But I am no longer there. I have to go back to the farmhouse. That was why I asked for your help. I don't know who, but someone commanded me to go there. But once I go back there, I will sleep.”

I hugged her, blinking away tears. “Little one… it is so cruel that one as young as you was given so much responsibility. You deserve more than this. But you certainly deserve rest.”

Her voice sounded vaguely cheery. “It wasn't as bad as it sounds for me. And I have happy memories, too. So many people helped me. I will always remember them, and you. Thank you, Leila, for helping me to be strong.”

I laughed, surprised since I felt like I had done so little for her. “Thank you for the same, Cerise. There is something I need to do now. You can wake me up now, ya?”

She smiled. “Of course I can. Thank you for helping me, Leila, and for remembering. I hope that when you wake up from your dream, you will be happy with what you find.”

Before I could reply, I opened my eyes. I was back in the archives, inexplicably well-rested. I packed my things and left all that Laurentian technology behind where I had kept it. There is something I need to do.

[Leila]

Entry 13

Dear Amelie,

I doubt you ever dreamt of me as I’ve dreamt of you. I’m quite sure of this because I have shared your dreams: they have become a part of my own spirit as much as my own dreams. You dreamed of seeing a city burning, and your lake as the only place where peace could truly be found. But I tell you, your city lived, and still lives. I wish you could have seen it for yourself.

I wish I had really known you. I wish we had met and conversed. I wish you could have shown me the lush blueberry fields of Cimmeria you loved so much. I wish I could have heard you play the piano that was assembled just for you in the house your father built. I wish you could have shown me how, a few months before you died, you learned to operate a telegraph machine for your father’s business, and wrote of your excitement at how it would connect people. I wish I could have swam in the lake with you, as you knew that lake before it shrank to a mere pond.

I wish I could have shown you the gardens of the Great Cathedral of Azzat. I wish I could have cooked a meal for you, as you so often did for your family. I wish we could have taken part in the water ceremony, and become bound as water-sisters. I wish I could have prayed for you – really prayed for you, in your presence. In your darkest moments, I wish I could have reminded you of your mother’s presence as part of you, and of your older sister’s boundless love. I wish I could have told you of your strength that you did not see. I wish I could have saved you from your final despair. I wish you had known of your child, Cerise, who once carried a world with her, thanks to the strength you possessed but could not see. She shepherded a city into eternity, and led me to you, all thanks to the gifts you gave her.

You are not present here, and I am glad for that. I don’t know if you would have liked everything I have done here. I’ve taken part in the struggle of the Nexus – the war. It chipped away at me until I was using angelic magic to kill our enemies without a thought. I hesitated the first time. But each time I found that killing got easier and easier. And then I stopped, horrified at my own brutality. What would you think of me, O gentle one of Laurentia, the land that rejected the cruelty of war? I hope you would forgive me for my cruelty.

Your spirit dwells in me now, and now I find it loosens my bonds to this Nexus. I have a feeling that soon I will be completely untethered. I hope that wherever I go, I will have your prayers, for you have mine, wherever you are. Be at peace, Amelie, and cherish that peace, for it cannot be found in this place.

Leila Alali

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It is done. The next entry I write will be my last.

[Leila]

“The city is a shared dream, a story written by generations. And each soul is a story of its own, whispered to those who will inherit the dream.” – Albert Kojima, City Administrator of Laurentia

Entry 14

No more doubts. No more searching. I know who I am.

My name is Leila Sana Ruya Fawziya Arij Fatima Alali. I am the daughter of a priest and a fisherman, born under a new moon and chosen to become the 122nd Hereditary Mediator of Azzat while I was still in my mother’s womb. My entire life up until the day I was consecrated in the Common Era year 2020 was to prepare me for that moment, of taking upon the mantle of the Hereditary Mediator. For all my mortal life, I lived on a planet called Meropis, in a kingdom called Asuria, in a city called Azzat.

Seven years later, that life ended and I was reborn in a place of endless battle. I do not know how many years I have spent now living and dying, again and again, in this Nexus, but it feels like longer than my first lifetime. Or is it my second, or even third? I have two other sets of memories, one that is somehow mine though it comes from another planet or even another universe, and one that belongs to someone who lived and died a very long time before me, in a distant land. One is that of Leila Maria Álvarez Figueroa, a writer from Earth who was deeply religious but not exalted at all in a worldly sense. Always imagining fictional worlds, she wondered what kind of person she would be if she had lived the life of a holy woman, born in a world of her own design. Somehow, I carry her entire life with me.

The other that I carry is that of Amelie Marie Elisabeth Moreau, the youngest child of a great adventurer and pioneer (as history books often described Lucien Moreau), who struggled to find a place in her world and was burdened by the fierce expectations placed on her by her father and those around her who naturally expected worldly greatness from her. It has been heartbreaking for me to realize that Amelie *was* great in every sense I can think of, but died absolutely certain she was not. Sometimes I wonder if Leila Álvarez felt the same, and then I find myself asking if she was even real, before I remember that I did probably live her life, too, though I can't explain it.

For sure, I know that Amelie was real. Amelie truly lived and truly died. And then she was reborn – as the identity of an entire nation, an entire people, one that was chosen to be the fulcrum of a cosmic battle for the fate of the universe, a battle that was fought long ago. She was more than simply a mortal who lived and died. She was a blue rose.

Something beyond the Nexus calls to me. Is it home? Or another battlefield like this one? I cannot say yet. I will not know until I cross the great chasm across realities. But I know that I will not stay here. I am called to take these memories and these lessons and carry them with me, wherever I go. So, there is nothing left for me to write.

May you, Dear Reader, be bathed in the light of Divine love, until our paths cross again.

Sister Leila Alali ✛
122nd Hereditary Mediator of Azzat

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Some time later, Leila woke up.

Bathed in the morning light, she laid still for a moment, blinking slowly. It was the sounds of the morning that had woken her up. The quiet feet moving outside the doorway. Laughter out the window. A bell tolling to mark the hour. After a few moments, she sat up.

She heard a voice call her name, followed by another – both of them gentle and familiar.

People dear to Leila had come to greet her. She smiled, and got up to meet her sisters.

(Thank you for reading.)