First steps into the Gray lands

The refectory was quiet but busy, as it usually was. Shadows were sitting around big rectangular tables, a faint yellowish light drawing sharp glowing edges around the worn out but sturdy carpentry. She made her move and went out the door. It was time to leave. All the signs were there. No one looking in her direction, no one speaking a word to her. Sometimes an awkward glance coming from an undefined form hiding in her blind spot. But she probably imagined it, she thought. It was quite evident that no one was paying attention, not directly anyway. An awkward indifference. (Again. And again.) She didn't remember exactly where she had to go. Perhaps some vague notion of a mission, forgotten like a hazy dream fading fast over the morning’s alarm.

She passed the threshold and something winded through to her left side. A fugitive presence (human?), quick as sound. She turned around and saw him walk away, muttering something she barely understood.

“…don’t wanna come

                   "alright…

                        "…..go to the other side anyway.

                                       The papermakers…”

"Wait."

She turned around and reached for his arm, but he was too fast. He was storming straight in the opposite direction, his rigid stance definitive in its intention not to stop for anything or anyone. She rushed after him, not wanting to be ignored again, passed through like a ghost. And she made him stop, gripping his arm and forcing him to a face to face he was clearly uncomfortable with, given the effort he was making to avoid her slightly angry but interrogative stare.

“What did you just say to me?"She wouldn't usually engage in a conversation with a total stranger, especially in the vicinity of the refectory and its mass of undefined shadows aggressively looking through her. She barely knew these gray lands, after all. But there was something strangely familiar about this rude but curious apparition, and she had to dig out what it was, whether he liked it or not.

“I know you, don’t I?” She was trying to make eye contact, searching for a lock on his eyes, frowning her eyebrows and twisting her neck like a bird observing a curious, elusive creature.

But he wouldn't let her catch his gaze. His face was half turned to his left, a painful contraction of his brows visible as he lowered his head to the ground. His eyelids were almost sealed, and she could barely make out some of the white in the borders of his right eye.

“If you want to follow me, you can. Your decision”. With that, he turned his back to her, but stayed put.

“Why would I want to follow you?” (I never do.)

“You stopped me” He was right. Something about him made her react. Enough to establish a semblance of connection, no matter how awkward. “I tried to reach out to you just now …"

“You didn’t try anything, you just whispered nonsense and walked away. That’s hardly a mark of interest. Where is it you’re going anyway?”

“The hub on the other side.”

He folded his arms, raised his head from the ground and pointed his sharp angular chin to his left. It was the exact opposite direction of where she was thinking of heading. But at least, it still meant walking away from the refectory, which was enough for her. She still had no idea what her original purpose here was anyway.

“Are you coming or not?”

He didn't wait for a response. Turning away, he started walking again. Striding. Fast, skinny shadow casting an overly tall dark spot over the flat gray road. She went after him without bothering to figure out why. They were alone now, and the light was getting dimmer. There was a shimmer coming from the valley down to the left of the road. She thought it might be the river's stagnant water crying out for attention as it dissolved into the dawning night. She never actually did see the river, nor did she ever see water in the Gray lands. She just liked the idea of this place sustaining some geological life.

Some life at all? When looking back over the lands she had traversed since she came here, all she could ever see was the gray veil covering every place she had touched, walked through or seen. A gray veil that made everything disappear, even memories.

"Is this hub of yours far? I really don't want to be stuck outside the refectory at night."

The refectory never disappeared into the gray veil, she had noticed pretty early on. As much as she hated it, it was the only unchanging place she had found here. Yellow light, faded. Not gray.

He slowed down a little and let her catch up.

"I thought getting away from the refectory was what you wanted"

That was odd. Maybe he was just good at reading body language, which meant he had been observing her from somewhere around the refectory. At least, he wasn't a shadow like the others back there. Not entirely. That was enough.

"Yeah well…you're perceptive, I'll give you that. I still don't fancy spending a night cycle anywhere around here so...whatever, and wherever this hub is, we'd better reach it fast."

"It's not that far."

He hadn't bothered to look back at all during the whole exchange. Rude, again. She trotted after him anyway, still not having a clue why she was following him so naively as if the light-headed figure whose name he didn't tell nor did she ask, inspired some innate trust in her. Or a strange and irritating curiosity that she couldn't ignore or shake off. She decided not to dwell on those interrogations right now, satisfied enough to have succeeded in making him notice her, against his will, maybe, but still. (Better than before).

No one at the refectory had ever been paying attention, but he had spoken to her as if it was the most natural thing to do, albeit strange, unexpected, and yeah, totally tactless. His harsh manners during their first encounter, she was quickly forgetting. He noticed her, and a few words later, she was shadowing him to a vague and mysterious destination she knew would somehow change her life forever. The fear would come later, maybe, she thought. The gray lands had this ability to reassure and scare to death without forenotice and in the blink of an eye.

They walked for an undetermined amount of time, but it seemed to her that it all passed rather quickly. It could have been two minutes or thirty, she couldn't tell. Time seemed unreal here. She had no clear recollection of the path they followed and certainly could not put images on the landscapes they probably passed. “Turned to gray, as always”. She had been religiously staring at him, though, her mind strangely focused, buzzing with questions. He wasn’t gray. But she was convinced that he wasn’t coming from the refectory either. Was there any other settlement here? A real haven perhaps? Must be far, far away beyond the gray hills, where she’d never dared to wander.

The yellow figure stopped. She halted as well, remaining behind him. Opening up in front of them was the entrance to a tunnel. Or some cave. It wasn't a hub at all, or maybe the hub was inside? Not that impressive from here, though. A white arch over some eroded gray rocks, way too smooth and flat in several areas of its surface to look natural. Tired matter. The cold light now dominating the distant, barely visible sky was not helping in making this view any more tangible. Or hopeful.

The road came to an end, and she couldn't see any other path, not to the left or the right. Behind her the landscape was blurry, and there was no sign of the refectory anymore. Good. The veil had fallen on the path back, as expected.

He was still in front of her, not speaking. She should ask for his name; it was the proper thing to do. Somehow that idea came off just as bizarre as their surrounding environment. He plunged into the dark arched corridor, and she decided to follow closely on his elongated footsteps. She was quickly fully engulfed in the cavern's deep dark gob, which swallowed what little light remained from outside. That opening did resemble a mouth, she thought while crossing its threshold. Displaying an irregular outline of pointy rocks acting as teeth, all facing inwards, stretching out to try and reach the center of an imperfect sphere. That vision should have terrified her. But somehow, she didn't feel threatened at all. Special circumstances, perhaps. She guessed that's what these do to someone.

“More special than you think." His murmur startled her from her reverie. “Let’s move on. Don’t withdraw.”

“What? What do you mean withdraw, I’m right here! And I can barely see you”. 

Her eyes were just now getting accustomed to the new kind of light the cave was casting. "And how did you …”

“You think too much. It’s loud.”

The last word resonated faintly like a wet trail of burning leaves in a cold cave, muffled and surreal as he disappeared deeper into the cavern's jaws. Maybe he hadn't even said that aloud for all that she could tell. There really was no way to be sure. And how could he even have guessed what she was thinking? No way. But then again rules didn't apply here in the gray lands.

She stepped further into the dark, eager to catch up to him, hoping he would still exist on the other side. She dreaded for him to be yet another figment of her imagination, another vanishing figure playing her from the foggy maze of her mind. Maybe she would remain lost here, dampness and darkness her only companions until she’d finally wake up. If she ever did. (Dreaming this?)

A couple of steps later her vision started to clear, allowing her to slowly take in her surroundings. She was inside. Still air, no movements. Quiet. That mouth-like antechamber had seemed way too long to cross, deep tubular corridor leading straight to the stomach of a rocky ancestral beast, conveying that disquiet feeling of being inside a digestive tract, their substance slowly broken down into nutrients. (Feed me. Please feed me).

The ground inside was whiter, plush looking squares of concave, thick, rubber-like flooring, soft under the foot. It felt like stepping onto a parterre of vinyl pillows that seem to breathe when sat on, slowly exhaling a wheezing breath of old rank air. She remembered sitting on pillows like these in her ma’s room, back when she still took the time to visit her on Sunday afternoons. (No more Ma). She can’t remember her Ma’s face or the sound of her voice, but she does remember the pillows and the stillness. Eyes fixed, unable to blink. Mouth opened, unable to speak. A little hard on the ass they were, these bland pseudo cushions. She hated them as much as she hated that room. But all in all, she’d never stayed quite long enough to really start noticing the growing pain in her backbone. The tension in her neck. The physical pain was never the reason she left…

Thoughts for another time, she thought. Another reality.

Memories could come back later, maybe...