Grazing The Sky

A fear was pressing against his c.h.e.s.t, somewhere deep inside. He was nearly tempted to back out, but the thought only became half of an idea before he forced it away. He couldn't chicken out. There was way too much riding on the fact that he was here with someone he didn't know. He had to at least understand their motives.

Lance was also tempted to stall; to confirm that Zidane would answer everything. But he found himself saying something else instead.

"Show me."

Zidane nodded slowly, like he had seen the request coming. His eyes closed as he did this, beginning to open again and reveal that immensely deep coloring.

Pressure shot into Lance's head; tiny and narrow, fast enough for a blip of a single idea to enter his head. Had he just been shot?

His body no longer existed. His mind was no longer confined to his own head; that energy spread itself out, and Lance saw nothing but darkness. Experienced nothing but a screaming agony that recoiled every single part of him. No; this wasn't even agony. This was a pain that nearly reached past the physical plane.

All at once, it disappeared, and Lance found himself standing in an endless expanse of white. He was back in his own body, and other than feeling a bit weightless, Lance felt normal, and everything seemed intact. His location and what had just happened, however, was something he couldn't figure out.

"Sorry about that." Zidane stopped a few feet in front of him, a wide grin on his face. "Teleportation got a little rough."

"Teleportation?" Lance asked, looking around. "What?"

"Uh, yeah." Zidane replied, eyes lightening. "I'll make it short and say that the mental realm exists, and I just teleported you into mine." He shrugged. "Just like I'd teleport you anywhere else."

"F.u.c.kin' weird..." Lance breathed, bringing his hands to his face, fingers sweeping through his hair. He suddenly looked up, a thought coming to him. "My body's okay, right?"

Zidane nodded calmly. "Yeah. We're both still sitting at the table."

"Okay..." Lance let out a narrow sigh, looking around again. "This place seems a little empty, if it's your mind..."

Zidane grinned. "You callin' me stupid?"

Lance quickly dismissed the accusation, hearing Zidane's laughter.

"I'm just kidding, Lance. I know; it's empty because I haven't chosen to show you anything yet. When I pick a memory..." His voice trailed off, one hand waving in dismissal. "Well, you'll see what happens."

He looked to Lance again, a soft smile on his face. "Ready?"

Lance nodded, and tried to force back the fear worming its way into his gut again.

"Alright." Zidane put his head back, pulling in a breath and swiftly letting it out. With his eyes still closed, he spoke, the sound of his quiet words spreading color against their white surroundings.

"We'll start from the beginning."