Amos

Once inside the hellish intercourse, Poison Ivy-style, the four companions looked each other in the eye, perhaps in the vain hope that one of the group would know what the hell to do! Since the situation seemed more static, as if they were acting in Waiting for Godot, Clara decided to stir the waters and destroy the iceberg, more than just ice.

«But I mean, you hear such shocking news that would put the most daring paparazzi to shame and you do nothing? I don't know, punch each other, shout at each other, hug each other, in short, anything would do, apart from this excruciating muteness. Even this hen of a tree woman here doesn't know what to say.» The girl exclaimed, breaking the thin and precarious balance left with the disruptive force of an atom bomb!

«Hey you, how dare you sully my noble name with that wretched and deadly mouth of yours. Come to think of it, I could always use you as fertiliser for my beloved little creatures.» The woman replicated, without a hint of hesitation. Clara was no less, duly reprimanding her.

«That's nice, I was really in the mood for rolls. I could use that clown on your head to liven up the fire, at least it would have a practical purpose apart from poking you in the eye at the mere sight of it.»

«Stop it.» Elijah interjected, interrupting them right at the point where they were about to grab each other by the hair. They could have easily disregarded it, but they were caught by Elijah's magnetic gaze. For the first time since their first, rousing encounter, Clara saw her own anger and sadness run through them, for what had been taken from them and what they could never have again.

"Who knows when Amos will break out, although, in that case, maybe it would be better to get to safety." Clara thought.

«We cannot continue to ignore all that has happened to us; we should rather seek a way to understand it and overcome it, honouring the memory of our parents.» Amos, upon hearing such words, jumped at his brother's neck, animated by a fierce fury.

«How easy it is for you to talk about honour and justice and all these damn good values, but what's left for me? You think someone like me can be a hero? Your fate has not been as ungrateful as mine. You were not despised and betrayed by those you thought were your family, your people. You and I have always fought on opposite sides, you on the side of good, of light, and I on the side of evil and darkness, so we can never do this.» The Dark One shouted at him.

«You are wrong. I am sorry for what happened to you, and we may never be able to hope for a normal relationship, but we can at least join forces to change the fortunes of this world, saving what we hold dear.»

To this last comment the handsome dark one did not reply, simply letting go and unsheathing his mighty sword.

«What do you want to do?» The girl asked worriedly, also because, as far as they knew, that set of thorns, overgrown vines and brambles could act as a load-bearing wall and knocking it down did not seem the wisest choice.

«What a question; I want to tear this obstacle in our path to pieces, take that damned statue and ignore everything that has happened since we set foot in this damned place.» And after the detailed and meticulous explanation, with a single slash, the vegetal wall before them was promptly pulverised, leaving room for a wide chasm.

«And now let us go and not waste any more time.» These words were evidently fatal, for instead of being buried by the rubble of the ceiling, another chasm dragged them towards a darkness deeper than ever. Yay for round two.

When Amos regained consciousness, he realised having been separated from the rest of the group. In front of him, he had only a thick fog concealing another path of brambles that seemed to lead towards an exit, or whatever it was.

Lingering no longer, the dragon ventured into the long bramble bush, hoping to find the others beyond the thick fog. As he moved forward, the brambles grew tighter and tighter, giving him some nasty wounds on his arms and legs. Unfortunately, he could no longer even fly, the place seemed to have inhibited that ability.

With thorns planted in his flesh, Amos suddenly realised he was in the winding Avenue of Memories, a place he had always doubted existed, believing it to be a legend or popular myth. In hindsight, he was forced to reconsider.

The uniqueness of this place lies in being able to relive one's memories as a spectator, as if they had been experienced by someone else. According to what he was told, the test consists precisely in crossing the threshold and going through the memories that are shown to us without taking part in them or changing what has happened in any way, otherwise the poor unfortunate on duty will remain trapped forever in a dark and deep limbo, with only the company of a desolate silence.

Not intervening and going straight seems easier said than done, since once inside, if the mind does not cling to real life and the outside world in which one lives, one runs the risk of losing track of oneself and ending up being sucked into the version shown to us.

Never, in the course of his decidedly long existence, did he imagine that he would ever find himself in the position of having to face an enemy as treacherous as his own mind or Time. One question kept nagging at him like a woodworm, like an endless drip he could not put an end to, namely whether Clara and the others were still safe and sound or whether their fate was not more ungrateful.

Although his first thought was of the beautiful redhead, he couldn't help but wonder if the woman he believed to be the love of his life and the man he seemed to have as a brother and comrade-in-arms were also still in one piece. Obviously, however, this would have been better left unsaid, just to maintain a certain aplomb.

So, no more quibbling and, aware that he had to find his comrades and that he had no plan b, Amos 'clung' with all his might to reality and crossed the threshold. Who knows what obstacle will stand in his way.