“No! Don’t look away! See me!” a hand pulled itself from the darkness. Stubborn, deliberate. If there was a chance, he would succeed.

The silver, no, blue Andrew didn’t know where this path would take him, only that he had to get there, had to cling to that last thread of life fueled by the blur of endings.

Or new beginnings.

His hand touched glass, not real glass, but the same glass he had seen once before when he had died the first time, the real time, when he found out he was nothing but a dream. His other self was on the other side, sleeping, dreaming. Maybe if he could just reach….

“Wake up!” he called. Or dream. Or whatever it was he need, they needed to do. He had been right to call their world a dream. Some crazy dream. But he was ok with that, as long as he could continue. A fragment or not, he wanted to do everything he could to live. “Look at me!”

And then he did.

…

It was odd, he was asleep, in a deeper sleep then he had ever been but yet, wide awake. A familiar voice was calling for him. He opened his eyes and found a mirror, glass, his own reflection, but different. He wore some strange cloths, blue in color and his reflection was older. He looked human, completely human, and he had a tattoo behind his ear.. “Remember me!” his other self demanded.

“I don’t know who you are.”

“I’m you. Or a reflection of you, or some figment, I don’t know. I’m like a shadow. But I need your help.”

“My help?”

“Yes!”

He didn’t understand, and stood suspicious of his reflection, if that’s what it was. It was faded, and dying, he realized. Just… a figment of his imagination. Or was it?

“Please.” The reflection asked. “I… I don’t want to die. You understand that, don’t you? We are the same, only a little different but the same. I was created from you. I am you. Or at least you are me, let me stay.”

“What can you give me?” he frowned at the mirror.

“Memories. Take them. Let me become a part of you again. I… who knows. Maybe you can learn something from me. I will give you all that I am, and all I ask in return is that you don’t forget.”

“Don’t forget? And what if I want to forget, or I reject your offer.”

“I die. And in my death… a small part of you dies. One you never knew you had.”
He frowned at his reflection. There was no lies hidden there, only an honest truth, a plead, a cry to not be forgotten. What could it hurt? He wondered. He was asleep anyway, he was conscious of that. This was just a dream.

“Alright. I will take your memories.” He touched the mirror, reached pass it his hand feeling cold, almost wet an unpleasant feeling. His reflection grabbed his hand with no hesitation but Andrew didn’t feel it. Instead his reflection faded.

He wasn’t prepared for the memories to come into his mind, loud, clear pictures, a tower falling, his brothers body strung in the ashes, a casino blue with reapers with tattoos all matching the mark on his reflection’s body, a battle, and another tower. Card games danced through his head, and something about winning against a stacked deck. A family in blue that he didn’t know, sitting by a bar with the bartender passing him yet another drink, something he never had done in his real life. It was too much, and he clutched his head in that dream almost trying to block it out. Too many emotions swept through him, pain, anger, fear. Followed by others, a kiss, happiness, a hand held in his and a bone crushing hug.

For a moment he never wanted to take a single breath for granted again. And then that faded as he saw himself from his reflections eyes, younger, naive, but beautiful. Everything was real, the fire from his body, the color and the definition of his wings. He saw himself as he has never seen himself, and his own hand reaching out to himself, extended in acceptance.

And then it was over. The moment was gone and he was himself, and only himself. Images played through his head, already a half forgotten dream.

“Thank you.” His reflection said.

No, he realized, not forgotten just distant. They were there, but as one would remember a movie, able to be played back at any time. Not every detail stayed, but enough for him to get a picture, of 7 kings who rose and fell, and of 7 items, and colors. And a white pillar, giving them one last goodbye until everything was a blur.

And everything blurred again as he dreamed of what could have been.