Capítulo 25: Prelude 4 - A Hanging Dream, Part 3
"You know, you can only play pretend for so long…," said the Hanged Man.
Several hours have passed since Zachary's world had turned upside down. It was already nearing midnight. He would try to think of it as a dream and head back to sleep. He would close his eyes and attempt to do anything that would blow that creature away, but the Hanged Man was still there.
"Gh…," Zachary sprung himself up and sat upright to face the Hanged Man, "So you're from my story and—"
"Tsk tsk, you see, my dear writer, that is where you are wrong. I'm not from your story," the Hanged Man explained, "You simply allowed me to take part in yours, just like everyone else who once wrote about me. I've existed for over five hundred years."
"Five hundred years?! Where the hell are you from?"
"Why, I came from the distant land of Neverland, what else?"
"Neverland?!" He raised an eyebrow.
As if the Hanged Man's presence wasn't odd enough, now he was claiming to be from a mystical land, and not just any land, it was one that was brought about from pure imagination and dreams. There was no such place as a Neverland. It was only a myth stuck in fairy tales that did not exist. And yet… the creature that identified himself as the Hanged Man was right before him.
"I suppose your ignorance is… predictable," the Hanged Man chuckled, "Neverland is the world that bridges your reality with our fables. It's a world where the written words are enchanted, where writers like you can blossom and cultivate our fantasies into something more. Imagine a world where your ink is the root of reality. You can write anything and everything on anything anywhere at any time. A world filled with writers and authors of all kinds with the sole purpose of bettering the world with their magic."
The way everything was said and phrased made it sound insane and delusional, but they were coming from a man formed out of wood and leaves instead of normal skin, a man who was hanging from the ceiling at all times, no less.
Somehow, it all piqued Zachary's interest. He was willing to indulge in this fantasy a little further, even if he was losing his mind or lost in a dream. There was, however, a question that was still on his mind.
"Writers like me? Authors?!"
"Precisely!" The Hanged Man clapped his hands together before pointing out another thing, "But not any author, just those enlightened with the gift of great imagination. They wield their tools with great power to cast their magic and enchanted words everywhere."
"And I… I am one?!"
"Why else can you see me?"
"Oh, I don't know, perhaps I'm out of my goddamn mind."
As much as Zachary would like to believe the creature's words — anyone would love a little fantasy in their life — as much as his thoughts were warning him of falling down to this insanity.
"Still close-minded, I see," the Hanged Man inched closer to Zachary and placed the tip of his finger on his forehead, "How about a short trip to the beyond?"
With one touch from the Hanged Man's fingertips, Zachary suddenly felt himself being pushed away at an incredible speed as if something was pulling him from the back through a portal. The scenery before him changed a thousand times as if he was on a trip through the boundless space of the universe. He couldn't keep up with the rush, the flickering lights almost blinded him, and yet he was still conscious. Somehow, the Hanged Man was still right in front of him with his finger on his forehead.
And then… darkness.
※※※※
When he opened his eyes, Zachary was met with an overtop scenery of a large city at night.
The city's architecture was odd, fantastical — straight out of the impossibilities of imagination. It was warmly lit by a thousand lights across its streets and buildings, giving it a tinge of gold that would sparkle the onlookers no matter where they went. There was this touch of antiquity to it, as if it was a place locked in time and yet still progressed further than ever before. Buildings were structured in a compound form, coating it with what seemed to be a Victorian ornament.
It was an unbelievable and mesmerizing sight.
Zachary could not believe his eyes, but this was only in the beginning.
A moment later, something flew past Zachary and almost knocked him away. It was a carriage, several of them, running, or in this case, flying with giant birds at the helm. However, this wasn't all. Following those carriages, were a ton of winged mythical creatures that the words could not describe. Each one varied in size and shape, some looked humanoid, some were just right out of someone's fever dream.
Right after them, a human passed by Zachary, who seemed to be hovering on top of gold clouds and dust that dictated his flight like there was no problem.
All of these people, airborne vehicles, and creatures were all flying towards the city.
「Flying?!」
That was when reality hit Zachary.
By some miracle or another, he was floating in the air across the city. He immediately turned his head upwards to be met by the Hanged Man who was carrying him through the whole trip.
Zachary felt a shortness of breath as he panicked, "Why are we in the air?!!!"
"Why, to get the best view, what else," the Hanged Man replied.
They had to shout to be able to hear one another among the noise, be it the noise of the wind rushing against them, the loud cheers of the crowd down in the city, or the cries of the creatures that flew by and the flutter of their wings that made waves in the air.
"What is this place?!" Zachary narrowed his eyes as he struggled to see from the gushes of wind.
"I told you, didn't I?" The Hanged Man laughed, "Neverland. Beautiful, isn't it?"
"G-Get me down, I suffer from air-sickness."
"My dear writer, you were doing just fine a few moments ago. Just forget everything and admire the scenery."
"I said, let me down!!!"
"Oh well, as you wish."
True to his exact words, the Hanged Man let go of his arms, setting him loose in the air and leaving him to fall down to the ground.
When Zachary realized what had happened to him, he was already screaming at the top of his lungs from panic. The wind rushed against his body even harder than before from how fast he was falling. He could see the grounds of the city inching closer and closer. Blinded by fear, he immediately closed his eyes to ready himself for impact.
But… the impact never came.
Opening his eyes once again, he found himself back in the air above the city. Looking up, he saw the Hanged Man looking at him with a smug smile on his face.
"You said "let me down," so I let you down, as simple as that." The Hanged Man offered his excuse.
"Not in a goddamn literal sense!"
As they were much closer to the city now, they were able to get a better look at it. An endless amount of people filled the concrete streets, making no path for vehicles to pass. They seemed to be celebrating something from how loud their cheers were and how boisterous they all were.
However, these people weren't just humans. There were other kinds that were never before seen in reality, and only in fiction. Some were like the humanoid flying creatures. Some seemed to be humans with certain animal features. Others were really just sentient animals. Even elves, with their well-known pointed ears, existed, and dwarfs that were shorter than by a magnificent length.
Despite that difference in race, they all danced in unison.
「They look so happy.」
It felt as if he was pulled out of reality from that little monotonous hospital room and thrown into the bright festivity of a medieval fantasy novel.
"Wait…"
「Bright?!」
Zachary widened his eyes.
The world before him, all of it, was all bright and colorful. Not a single object or place was covered in that colorless shade he was forced to always see. This could never be real, he thought. Even in his wildest dreams, he couldn't imagine a real color within them. And yet this one, this world presented itself to him with all its shine and glory. It was amazing.
"This is…"
But before he could utter another word, the world turned dark once again.
"...!"
As the curtains of his eyelids lifted, Zachary found himself back at the hospital bed in the same colorless room. For a moment, he thought that all of that was simply a dream, that he had awoken from a long dream. But then there he was: the Hanged Man, dangling from the ceiling in front of him as he had been for the past hours.
「B-But that world…」
"It wasn't real?!" He looked at the Hanged Man with a sorrowful expression.
"What? You really expected me to fly without my vines?" The Hanged Man moved along with his vines next to him, "But to answer your question, yes and no. That was a scene out of my own memory and experiences. What you saw was a festival held in the very mystical land of Neverland."
"Gah…!"
Zachary rubbed his hands against his head. His thoughts were in complete disarray. That colorful world seemed so real, and yet it wasn't. Or perhaps it was, according to the Hanged Man's words. But was the Hanged Man ever really real? These were the types of questions riddling his mind.
So this was either of two things, all of it was real, or he had fallen asleep and delved deep into the depths of his dreams.
"By the Thousand Lords of the Night, you are a tough nut crack," the Hanged Man placed his hand on his face and then let one of his vines scratch his head for him as if he was in deep thought about another solution. And indeed, he found a solution, "Perhaps this ought to convince you enough."
He calmly lowered down a few of his vines onto the bed before moving over and removing the blanket entirely off Zachary.
"Wait, what are you doing?"
He felt a strange intent from the Hanged Man, but he couldn't move.
The Hanged Man then proceeded to lower more vines onto Zachary's legs, which were both encased in large casts to cover the injuries he had received — despite him losing the nerves and the overall feeling of his legs. The vines slowly crawled across his legs and attempted to entangle themselves before they were wrapped entirely around both legs with force. Yet still, Zachary could feel nothing.
And then…
"There was once a young man…," the Hanged Man began chanting, "Broken without repair, he sought to empty his mind of despair. A life of silence and solitude was all that he desired. But come the night of the moon, and soon the light of the evergreen will avert the terrible fate, for another tale awaited at the end of the gate."
Just as the words of the chant said over and over, the vines surrounding Zachary's legs began to glow, and with them, his legs shone as well. It was a sight not for the words to describe — and not for the eyes either, Zachary felt a burning sensation in his eyes as the light came through before he shut them completely.
Despite feeling nothing in his legs a few seconds ago, Zachary felt a strange relief, as if his legs had been trapped under something for so long, and only now, were they starting to be released from the tension.
"...!"
The fact that he was able to somewhat feel his legs and not react to them came as a surprise to him. He still had his eyes closed to avert his gaze from the light, so he had no idea what was going on. Each second that passed gave him a sense of alleviation as if the casts in his legs were being slowly unwrapped.
"Now, try it," the Hanged Man spoke.
After opening his eyes, Zachary noticed that everything stayed relatively the same. His legs were still wrapped in the casts. The Hanged Man was still in his place. There was no light. For something as grand as healing someone's broken body part, he expected to see and feel something more than this.
"Nothing's chang—"
But then Zachary felt his legs actually move when he tried to. When he came to, he saw his legs were tilted to the right, where he had intended to move them.
「That's impossible!」
A look of utter disbelief was plastered on his face almost immediately.
He wanted to move his legs to the left, they moved to the left. He wanted to move them to the right again, they moved to the right again. He wanted to move them upwards, they moved upwards.
Even now the weight of the cast felt heavier in his leg. He could feel the cast wrapped around his legs.
But most importantly of all, he could feel his legs.
"I… I-I don't understand," he looked at the Hanged Man with his mouth agape.
Seeing him finally believing in his magic, the Hanged Man only smiled and breathed out a sigh of satisfaction.
A being, out of tales of old, had healed his broken legs. This was no illusion. It wasn't something that his mind could easily come up with, it wasn't just a feeling or sense anymore.
It was a miracle, one that only belonged to the age of miracles and fairy tales.
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