Rene was buffeted through time like debris in a tornado. Moments of his existence flew by in a stream of images so quickly that he barely had time to register them. Misha’s death. Emory’s birth. Meeting Ari. Marrying Misha. 

He was holding onto something. A tiny hand was wrapped in his, and he chanced a glance away from the cascade of memories falling over a waterfall of lifetimes to see Emory holding tightly to him, her eyes wide as she saw everything. 

“Dad.” She murmured upon seeing Misha. There were tears in her eyes as she saw him, as they both saw him coming up the steps of the library the first day that he and Rene met. 

The memories continued back, going faster now, an incredible reel of images. Doris’ funeral. Doris and Frank giving Rene big hugs to congratulate him for getting his job at the library. Sweet Doris, holding a crying Rene as he struggled to understand why life was so difficult. 

Back further still. A montage of Rene’s foster families. His brothers and sisters. The foster parents who had tried so hard to be good for him, and those who couldn’t be bothered. Lonely Christmas nights with a single gift of a stuffed dog wrapped in a paper shopping bag. A precious gift that Rene had given to Emory when she was old enough to care for it. 

“Bob!” Emory exclaimed. 

Back further still. 

Back to his birth in Wales, his mother was so young, so distraught. Rene looked upon her and felt such incredible sorrow and longing. She looked so much like him. The same eyes, same nose. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail as she struggled to give birth. She had wanted to do right by him, but she didn’t have the resources or ability to do it herself.

Then, as though the tornado of memory had picked up in intensity from an F3 to an F5, Rene and Emory were jolted back before his present life. A stream of images of Ling, going back from the moment he was crushed by the tank and shot by the sniper. Flowing back and back into his loving relationship with Khalid.

“That was you.” Emory said. “You and him. You were so happy.”

Rene watched their love story in reverse, and felt an overwhelming sense of wonder. He had truly loved Khalid as Ling. He could even see it in Ling’s eyes, his eyes, the turquoise glow, the dream of being with Khalid forever. 

Still further, growing up before he ever met Khalid in that life. Realizing he didn’t like how things were going in China, and telling his parents that he wanted to make a difference. Young Ling, trying to stop a bully from hurting a little girl, and having the crap beat out of him. Almost ready to give up on the world when his mother sat him down and reminded him that nothing in life will come easy. The hardest decision we must make is to keep going, even when everything feels lost. 

Ling as a baby in his loving mother’s arms. 

Now he was Lawrence, dying from a policeman’s baton in the Watt’s riot at 15-years-old. A dangerous individual in the eyes of the army of officers sent to quell the uprising against injustice.

And before. 

Lawrence going to school. Wanting to grow up to be the first black president and being teased by his peers. Told that this dream made no sense. Volunteering to help out his teachers so that they could catch a break as they were overworked and underpaid. Raising money for class supplies, and being threatened when he showed up on a white man’s doorstep to sell candy bars for his class. 

Little Lawrence at 3-years old, asking his mommy why he had to use a different drinking fountain than the other people. Baby Lawrence being baptized at his church before everyone sang in celebration.

His mother holding him just after birth, crying in relief from the extended labor. His father cradling his little head and looking on him with pride. 

Then he was Adam. 

Adam dying at the hands of a man he’d thought was a friend. 

“That’s my great-grandmother.” Emory said, watching Ha-Na fly by in the memories. 

“Yes.” Rene said, still in awe at watching his lives play out before his eyes like this. 

Adam arriving in Korea, scared and eager to prove himself. 

Adam being drafted, his mother crying as they got the news. Going through basic training. Turning out to be pretty handy when it came to combat. 

Adam was a mechanic before he was drafted. His father had taught him a great deal about cars and other vehicles, and he was excited to follow him into the industry.

“Daddy, where are we going?” Emory asked suddenly. 

“I don’t know.” Admitted Rene, watching Adam grow younger and younger and then he was being born. 

“Daddy, there’s something here. Someone’s coming.” 

Rene looked at her, her eyes wide as they were tossed about in the tempest of recall. He watched in horror as a hand reached out of seemingly nowhere and snatched Emory by the arm, yanking her out of his grasp. A scream rend the strange void around him, a combination of his shout and hers.

Rene reached into the nothingness where she had been only moments before, then felt himself tumbling end over end violently, everything around him an imperceptible blur. He closed his eyes. Were they his eyes? Was he even a body in this strange plane of existence?

The spinning came to a crashing stop, and he opened his eyes with a gasp, staring out into total nothingness. An absolute black void.

“Who are you?” Came a strangely familiar voice with a lilting Irish accent.

Rene knew, without seeing who was speaking, he somehow realized that it was Aidan. The familiarity of it, the memories that flowed forth from him right into Rene.

Memories of the day before, in Aidan’s short life, where he’d had a delicious meal with Khalid in honor of his sweet sister Ashlin.

“Who are you?” Aidan repeated.

Rene wasn’t quite sure how to answer that. The world around him slowly began to shift into a view of the ocean from Aidan’s little island, but a strange otherworldly view. Rene realized that he was in a dream. Aidan’s dream. 

“I’m…a friend.” Said Rene. “Someone who cares about you. Who cares about her, about Ashlin.”

“Are you a spirit?” Aidan asked. “You’re so familiar.”

Of course he was. 

An image flowed from Aidan, something warm and loving. A thought of Khalid. An overwhelming contentment at his presence. 

Aidan didn’t know. He didn’t understand what Khalid had done. In fact, he loved Khalid so much that all he felt was conflicting emotions of guilt for his feelings and the wish to be ever closer to Khalid despite an upbringing and religion that felt their union inherently wrong.

Rene wondered at this realization. At the thought that Aidan was so content to be with Khalid. If he had never learned the truth, what might their future have looked like together? Would Rene have chosen immortality in that life? Spent centuries together with Khalid on that island? Explored the world as Aidan and Khalid eternally. 

Never been born as Adam or Lawrence or Ling. 

Never have existed as Rene. 

Never have been a husband to Misha…or a father to Emory. 

A horrible realization occurred to him in that moment. He couldn’t remember exactly what Aidan had dreamed of that night that changed everything. The dream had existed in a chasm of blocked recall. 

That dream, this dream. 

“I’m…Ashlin sent me.” Said Rene. “She needed you to know the truth about your friend. Khalid. He’s not what he says he is. In fact, he’s a very dangerous man, and he killed your sister.”

Speaking these words was setting his very futures in motion. He knew that Aidan believed him because he’d already lived the impact of this dream. 

Rene explained everything, and as Aidan, he listened with rapt attention. 

Aidan would wake up from this moment and look on Khalid in a whole different light. He would make a choice that would end up sending Khalid to be tortured for years. A turning point, perhaps, from the man that could have saved the world. Now, the insane being who wanted to keep Rene at any cost, even if that cost was destroying everything he ever loved. 

Khal had let slip about the torture on one of the nights he and Rene had been planning how to save the world. He’d gone into just enough detail that Rene had felt a profound sense of unease, almost guilt. That was, until he remembered everything that Khal had done to him. All those he had harmed to get what he wanted. Rene recalled almost being drowned by Jeff Aquino, and any empathy he had for Khal faded away. 

Yet, here he was, creating that moment, that event that would lead to every other horrible thing Khal would do in the future. 

When Rene was done explaining, he felt the rubberband pull again, sending him back once more through the cascade of memories. He looked everywhere for Emory as images floated past of Aidan’s life. Moving that family to Wales. The family that would have Rene in just a few generations. Working the farm with his sister. Grieving his parents’ deaths. Growing up, a happy and sweet little boy who was just a bit different from everyone else. A bit too nice. His sister was always there to protect him when the bullies were rabid for victims. 

Baby Aidan lying in the pram next to his twin sister, the two of them looking at one another, in awe of each other’s existence. 

Then he was Lestari, swept away by the great wave from Krakatoa’s eruption. Before that fateful day, he was living a happy life with Khalid, feeling so much love for his good friend. A relationship akin to uncle and nephew. Rene saw the moments of Lestari’s life where Khalid was clearly spying on him through his mother. He watched in awe as Khalid held him as a baby, and was shocked that he’d left the village after that.

He was Lee Miller now. Dying because a crazy man decided he needed to protect the Confederacy. He had a brief and happy moment with Khalid, feeling that strange connection that he felt in every life, that pull toward the man. 

He was a soldier in training, working for abolition, spurred on by his family’s love of humanity, of equality. Great changes needed to happen, and Lee was more than up to the task. 

His family was helping with the underground railroad, using their resources to help multiple individuals escape the South. His mother was a great seamstress who would use her skills to create hidden messages in the fabrics she worked on, messages that helped black folks along the way, while the fabrics kept them warm in the cold North. 

He was a baby, born in Georgia, where his family was eager to leave as soon as possible. 

Then, she was Nita, dying in the Oklahoma territory after being forced to leave Georgia and travel the Trail of Tears. She had contracted an illness that she just could not shake by the end of the journey. Her only concern had been securing a future for her cousin’s children, Fala and Koi.

Koi, who she had literally gone back in time to save. A strange moment that she had explained as a gift from the Great Spirits.

She was Nita, happily working with her family, despite a lifetime of losses. Looking after others in her village that couldn’t look after themselves. She was a child, giddily playing with her cousin, promising to be best friends forever. They were looking up at the stars, wondering how far away they were. Wondering if one day they might reach them, and marvel at what they were made of. 

She was a happy little girl, but she was different. The boys liked her, but she had no interest in anyone, boy or girl. She felt as though she were waiting for the right person. Or for no one. Life was beautiful even without a partner. 

She was a doting daughter, a keeper of animals. 

Sweet Nita.

He was Cody. He was being hanged for his crimes of killing McConnell. Strange words about evil men were spewing from his mouth. It was too late for him, and he knew that. 

He was burning Khalid’s grave, livid with his dear friend for murdering Colin, the young man he saw as his own son. 

Rene found himself spinning again, pulled back into darkness.

“Who are you?” 

Same question. 

Same answer.

This time, he didn’t lie. He didn’t claim to be sent by anyone else. He let Cody know exactly who he was.

“I’m you.” Rene told Cody. 

“How can you be?” Cody asked. 

Another moment like Aidan’s dream. Another confession of what Khalid had done. The horror dawning on Cody, his whole world changing as he realized the man he loved had betrayed him in the worst possible way. Rene telling him things that only Cody could have known, moments in his life only Cody had ever lived and Rene had dreamed. 

Setting Cody’s fate in motion. 

And Khalid’s. 

Rene was flung back into the tornadic waterfall of memories. Of past lives. 

Crying out for Emory.

Watching Cody’s life in reverse. 

Watching Sasha slaughtered on the battlefield in the battle of Kunersdorf. Sasha saving Misha’s many times great-grandfather, Misha, from a bloody death in the battle. Sasha had never told Misha about his feelings for the young man, the way he had fallen in love with him. How could he possibly let him know? How brutally would he be judged for doing so?

Rene saw their friendship blossom, Sasha’s confused feelings for Misha. His fear of dying in battle. 

Surviving the cold winters as he grew up. Working his fingers to the bone to provide for his family. His mother wanting him to find a nice wife and settle down, but him feeling no interest in doing so. 

Little Sasha as a baby, not a care yet in the great big world. 

Sim. Brave Sim, lovingly held by Khalid in the end, begging him to free the others. Sim, captured when she was out hunting. Terrified and screaming for help, but defiant to the end.

Before that, a strong member of her village. Bringing water, making food, tending to animals and children. Many would come to her for advice. Her fear as more members of her village disappeared. 

Young Sim, diving into water to search for fish. Watching in awe the brilliant world around her. Singing and dancing, celebrating every precious day. 

Little Sim being born to her exhausted mother, the women in the village gathered around to see the sweet little girl already so full of spirit. Having no idea of the horrors that lay in store for her. 

He was Louis, dying once more on the battlefield at only 18-years-old. A young man who loved to cook with his mother and make the greatest desserts that made him one of the most popular boys in the village. Many a girl was clamoring for his attention, but he was all but oblivious to their advances. 

A young boy swimming in the local pond, catching fish, before heading home to read books with mother. 

A precious baby, the apple of his mother’s eye when he was born. 

Rene saw himself now as Charun, dying in the sacked temple for his Goddess Durga. The love he had felt for Khalid was exquisite. Their relationship had been transcendent. Rene could see it in Charun, that turquoise wish to live eternally together with his beloved. 

Charun, so devoted to his beliefs. To his Goddess. To helping others in his community. Kind Charun, knowing since he was a little child exactly what he wanted to do, where he wanted to be. A love in his heart for all of humanity. 

Charun as a young man, collecting food for the homeless in his community, feeding the children and mothers on the street. Being taken advantage of by unscrupulous individuals, but never losing his faith that he was doing the right thing by helping others. 

Baby Charun with his big brown eyes, smiling up at his parents who looked upon him with great adoration. 

Rene closed his eyes for a moment, feeling a profound sorrow now as he traveled back in his lives, Emory nowhere to be found, wondering if he was headed toward non-existence, to back before he was ever born. How far would this path take him?

He opened his eyes and mind to the moment of seeing himself as Yuto, dying honorably in the Shimabara Rebellion, fighting against the tyranny of Katsuie. A single man his entire life, Yuto had dedicated himself to his life as a Ronin after his Master had died. He had trained for years, the best of the best, and he kept close to his heart the words of his Master, a man whom he had loved dearly. 

“You live not for yourself, but for the good of others.” Those words had guided him for the remainder of his life. 

In times of peace, Yuto had enjoyed a life as a simple farmer, finding contentment in the work of providing by tending to the land and animals. It came so naturally. 

Yuto as a young man, discovering the world around him, oblivious to the devastation man was inclined to invite. 

Before Yuto, Iara. Dying as she fought to free others from the enslavement of the sugar fields in Brazil. Taking a number of slavers with her in the process, her knife covered in blood, her teeth bared as he fought to the very end.

Iara, kidnapped from the Amazon rainforest to be forced into the labor of the sugarcane fields. Removed from her family, from the very land where she grew up living in relative harmony. 

It occurred to Rene just how many times he had been enslaved in past lives. And if not enslaved, removed by force from his own home. Murdered for his beliefs. 

Young Iara was watching a Jaguar, in awe of its strength and agility. She knew it wasn’t safe to be around them, but she was fearless. She looked on the big cat with pure love. 

Baby Iara, held in her parents’ arms, so very loved. 

Twelve-year-old Conel, killed by the Spanish in what was today called Puerto Rico. Poor Conel, slaughtered for attempting to protect his father.

Rene’s first life after Asim. He watched himself as young Conel, forced to labor for gold and silver, even as a small child. Tears of pain welled in little Conel’s eyes at the extended labor day in and day out. He never had a chance to be a child as the Spanish exploited him and everyone else around him, murdering certain villagers when they didn’t do as they were told. Chopping off limbs to send a message. Conel’s mother lost a hand in an incident where she fought back against a Spaniard who meant to rape her. 

Conel struggled to handle the injustice, wondering when things would get better, when the monsters would leave his island and his people alone.

And then…

And then he was Asim.

Chapter 51 – She Said