With a sense of trepidation, he finally chose a language and spoke in English, the words feeling foreign yet familiar on his lips. As he broke the silence, a wave of relief washed over him. "Did I choose correctly?" he asked, seeking reassurance. She laughed, a melodic sound that put him at ease. "It doesn't matter," she said with a smile. "I know every language you would speak, and you know mine too." The weight of his decision lifted, and he felt a sense of wonder at their connection.
He gazed at her, a million questions swirling in his mind. He wanted to ask them all at once, but before he could, she asked, "Where are you coming from?" He hesitated, trying to gather his thoughts. "I don't know," he admitted. "Everything is a mess, constantly changing." She nodded, her expression understanding. "I'm aware of that. But where exactly are you coming from?"
He closed his eyes, trying to recall. "An infinite glade with tall grasses," he said, the image vivid in his mind. She mumbled to herself, "I've never been over there before." He opened his eyes, curiosity getting the better of him. "Can you tell me what's going on?" he asked, hoping for some answers.
She chuckled, a hint of amusement in her voice. "I have no idea," she said. "And I'm only slightly less confused than you are." He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "But you seem to know what's happening here," he said. She leaned in, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "The moment before you came inside was probably 5 minutes ago. Yet, I've been inside this Fold for what feels like 2 years."
She asked him to picture that, 2 years of constant silence and no interactions, it matters not anyways, "I felt it, but I'm not sure if it happened or if I was only counting seconds as days," she said, her voice laced with a mix of frustration and resignation. He nodded, trying to imagine the isolation she must have endured. The weight of her words hung in the air, and he could sense the depth of her emotions.
"What about the word you used before?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. "A Fold?" She nodded, a faraway look in her eyes, as if memories were flooding back.
"When I got here, I was lost and knew nothing," she began, her voice taking on a reflective tone. "Everything was scary, I was lonely, and I couldn't do anything. Wandering, just like you." She paused, collecting her thoughts, her gaze drifting into the distance.
"I remember feeling like I was stuck in a never-ending nightmare," she continued. "Every scene was different, every moment was a surprise, and I had no control over anything. It was like being a leaf blown by the wind, without any direction or purpose." Her voice was laced with a hint of sadness, and he could sense the vulnerability she had faced.
"Then I met him...LS," she said, a small smile playing on her lips. "He was smart, very smart. He was able to break it down to his comprehension and then to me." Her eyes lit up with a hint of admiration. "He had a way of making sense of things, even in a place where sense didn't seem to exist."
"There was nothing to measure what was happening, no numbers, no clock, just scenes constantly changing," she explained. "So, he came up with a term for each scene...a Fold." She looked at him intently, as if to ensure he understood the significance of the term. "And we used it to measure our time here, disregarding what it felt like – years, decades, and sometimes, for some people, even centuries. We weren't aging, so it was only fair to assume the only real unit of time was each Scene."
As she spoke, he felt a sense of understanding wash over him. The concept of Folds was a way to impose order on a chaotic world, a way to make sense of the senseless.
He asks why she called him LS, and she says, "We can't remember names, even if we're told immediately. We forget it, but two random letters stick, just like a language. We use things we came with and our first fold to come up with our name." He asks her what hers was, and she responds with a detached tone, "RH." She seems indifferent, not wanting to elaborate further on the topic of her name.
He asks her where LS was, and her expression turns somber. "We got separated in the last fold," she says. "I tried to stay with him, but...he was starting to figure more things out. Even though he was constantly forgetting, he'd be right on its tip again." A hint of sadness creeps into her voice. "Now, I'm back on my own, my dumb self with nothing but basic knowledge."
He feels a sense of anxiety, wishing he could have met LS to gain more insight. However, he's just happy to have met someone, anyone, in this infinite path. "How many folds have you been in?" he asks, curiosity getting the better of him.
"35," she responds, her voice matter-of-fact. "Although, LS theorized that we might start forgetting the number of folds we've been in at a point." He's shocked by this number, his mind reeling with the implications. "How many more are there?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
She laughs and says that when her fold changed and she meets others, they each have multiple scenes they'd been through - some way more than hers. Maybe about two were common. "It's probably infinite," she says, her voice low and contemplative. "That's what LS said, anyways." Her words trail off, leaving him with a sense of unease and wonder. The thought of infinite folds hangs in the air, a daunting and mind-boggling concept.
He presses her for more information, eager to understand the nature of these folds and the people they've met. "What about the people you've met?" he asks. "Do they...do they have any commonalities?" She shakes her head. "No common folds. LS tried theorizing it was probably linked to fear, but he quickly scrapped that idea, especially since some of them were just nice and tranquil." Her voice is laced with a mix of curiosity and frustration, reflecting the complexity of their situation.
She looked down and noticed a crack, but it wasn't on the floor – it was the very scene itself. The crack quickly extended between both of them, showing it intended to separate them. As it all shattered, RH panicked, knowing she should have said all she could to him very fast, but dawdled thinking they had more time since it didn't collapse upon them encountering themselves.
The scene shattered quickly, way quicker than the glade. As it came to his notice, RH quickly tells him, "Don't let up! It only gets more dangerous every fold, in the most unexpected way." Her words were urgent, a desperate attempt to impart crucial knowledge before it was too late.
The scene shattered, and both presences dissipated. Everything was black, and he closed his eyes, almost scared of where he had been taken now. The darkness was suffocating, and he felt a sense of disorientation. Where was he? What would happen next? The uncertainty was crushing, and he waited with bated breath for whatever came next.