Chapter 2: What Is This Dream That Thou Hast Dreamed?
A crackling fire spat a piece of charcoaled wood up on the beach and almost made it to a patch of dried-out grass. Yet, no ignition or wildfire, as the stray embers were choked out by sand and an icy breeze. A hooded and cloaked figure was raking around in the flames with a trident-like stick, lifting and turning around the unburnt side of every log back into the flame - keeping it fueled for half an hour more, and using up all the firewood he had put on.
The sunset, shining purple and blood-red, evaporated the remaining fog into invisible steam, that would rise to heights unfathomable to regular men down on Earth. A few gulls and puffins shrieked out and dove for late-night snacks for themselves and their hatchlings.
He had set up his single tarp tent just on a small, flat field, just above the beach line, facing the sea. It was plugged straight into the ground in two corners and was attached to a couple of sturdy sticks in the other corners. Easy to set up, easier to take down, and open to let in the sunrise, whenever it would want to come up from behind the horizon and give him a gentle, pleasant awakening.
A sea lion appeared, wading and splashing out of the shimmering, breaking waves, to the cloaked one's surprise. It looked at him, was equally startled and grunted at him, and turned around to go back from whence it came. He tried grasping for his spear, got a hold of it, and loaded his throwing arm, all in one lightning-swift move. As he was about to throw it, a gunshot sounded from further down the beach. The sound made him miss the animal, and it slipped out, back into its preferred element.
"Hey! Wanderer! Show yourself!", a strict voice spat out at him from a distance. They must have seen the fire, he thought.
"Yep, I'm right here", he responded, and held his fur-clothed arms up in the air, waiting to be captured. A sawed-off barrel stuck out of the darkness and hit him right in the solar plexus. He lost his breath and had to take two knees for a second, wondering if this violence was warranted in any way.
"Nicely spotted, kid. You will rise in ranks in close to no time", an older, worn-out voice pointed out from behind the first one. The wanderer's eyes had gotten adjusted to the brightness of his fire, and so he could not say anything about the details of his new commanders, as they pointed their firearms at him, went around him on either side and shuffled him off to somewhere he did not know.
"Why are you taking me in, exactly?", he asked. They both scoffed.
"You are not allowed to disturb local wildlife by lighting a fire that close to the sea. Luckily, we got you just in time before you did something even worse", one of them said.
"What are you - the 'wildlife police' or something?", he laughed. One of the officers did not appreciate his mockery and smashed the gun right in his lower back. "Ridiculous", he sighed and went along with their rough-housed execution of their bogus laws.
They had been walking for a while when his eyes started adjusting to the darkness.
"How are you guys able to see without flashlights?", he questioned them sincerely, but also to have them talking to possibly expose their motives.
"I have walked these shores and paths for all my life, mister", the younger officer assured. They got up a small slope, and close-to walked right into an electric vehicle, that had been humming to them from quite a distance. He had never seen one of these before, and now, the two wanted him to open the door and get in.
"I... I'm sorry, I don't know where the door handle is", he apologized and tried fumbling for a familiar shape or button. He was pushed aside and the younger, brawny one did a swiping motion with his hand across the door, and it shifted upwards and laid bare a backseat of wrinkled, synthetic leather, lit up by some awful, bright blue neon light. They then wrestled him down and stronghanded him into the rear section of the car-like vehicle.
They started driving, and the humming from before was now nowhere to be heard. There was a solid sheet of plexiglass between him and the officers. Some breathing holes were punched out, but they were covered by another, retractable hatch. As they were driving through what seemed to be ruins of some small, seaside town, he tried talking to them, to no avail. They were joking and laughing and pointing at road signs. He tried lightly tapping the plastic barricade. The older officer, who was not the driver, slid back the cover.
"I was just wondering where you are taking me? And am I under arrest or the like?", he asked, out of sheer curiosity.
The older officer twisted his head slightly towards him. "We're taking you to a small settlement just around this bend here", he said reassuringly and pointed at a small turn in the road. He left the last question unanswered and closed the cover again. As they turned the road, indeed there, there it was, a small town - but dark and silent, awaiting the coming night.
The officers stopped at a fluorescently lighted building, without a name out front - and there, they put him in a room that had to be put together for interrogation, no doubt about it whatsoever. They signed for him to get out, and showed him into the building, where they entered the first door on their right.
A classic, worn-out scene it was: An old chair and wooden table, and a black lamp, hanging by a singular long cord down, overlooking the table.
No decoration on the walls - it had water damage in one corner, and from it, a long crack in the concrete all the way up to the middle of the ceiling. The bottom half of the room painted in a greyish colour, and the top half in a nasty, light green tone.
"So, is this where you guys crack me wide open?", the wanderer asked, with a light snicker accompanying the question.
"You know it!", the youngest officer declared, arrogantly as it could be said.
It was all starting to look like a cliché he never thought he would find himself to be the lead character in - although he slowly sat down in the chair, as the two seemed to want.
"Alright, listen. I mean no harm, I come in peace and all that. Just let me go, ok? No hard feelings", he proposed, confident in himself, but not hoping for the best reply there was. "I mean, you haven't even told me why you are bringing me in, and not even by who's authority".
The two came awkwardly close to his face, both of them at the same time. He now could see their uniforms properly - they were dark green, resembling a military outfit, but without any proper details, no official titles or anything that could tell him who they worked for.
He could, now, also see the humungous birthmark the youngest officer had across his entire face. He was a handsome, sun-bleached kind of blond, young man, but was wearing a fake sense of authority and self-confidence. The older one was a stern, weather-bitten one, with large, long black eyebrows, contrasting his light grey on top. He had probably been a fisherman in his earlier life, which should not be a terrible guess, knowing how close they were to the sea.
"Our authority is of a noble one. We shovel the shit that comes floating in on our shores now and then - and, boy, do you people come around often. But, hey... You feed Her, so no complaints here", the older officer disclosed, with a degree of a strange satisfaction, that triggered the wanderer's attention.
"Did you say 'Her'? Who, exactly?", he asked, intently. The two officers stood back up and looked at each other, grinning.
"You're in luck, mister. You will get a live demonstration very soon, in the coming days actually", the younger one said, as he rubbed his hands together, fast, in childish anticipation of some future, mystical event.
"Well - when we have trouble, we have to provide amends. I do not know you, or where you came from, but here, we follow whatever our chief says", the older, grey one said, in an attempt to clarify further.
"When she acts up and hurts us, we make sufficient amends". He was now leaning his back towards the door they had come in through. The blonde was standing up, perfectly straight, letting his thumbs rest on the inside of his belt to support his hands - and to look like he was in charge.
They started getting impatient and were moving towards the exit. "Come on now, let's get you set", the older one said, with a strange feeling of responsibility and warmth to his voice, this time. They took him to a room just down the hall, let him in, and locked the door.
The walls had carvings on them, one saying "RISE IN RANKS, BUT NOT TOO QUICKLY", another said "DO NOT MAKE TOO MUCH OF YOURSELF", another said "STICKING OUT LIKE A SORE THUMB", another said "THEY THREW HIM IN A VORTEX", and above the bed, there were rows of single, vertical lines. Someone had been counting something.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
MJHolmgren
MJHolmgren Hello, reader!
As you have already gotten to experience, this story alternates between two timelines every other chapter.
Enjoy, and hopefully this will make sense some time in the future.
Kindly,
M. J. H.
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