“You think you have what it takes to measure up?”
The thought was all the more terrifying because it was delivered by Charlisa’s lips. Will’s dreams were dominated by the sight of them, and not in a good way. They whispered terrible things into his ears, telling him to give up. To go back home to his ordinary, boring life. Where he was most useful. Because he stood no chance in this new world of strong people. He was weak.
Each time he would turn to tell Charlisa that he was more than worthy enough. Why else would Edward have given him power if not because he thought he could handle it? Edward made a mistake. No he didn’t, and Will would prove it. But as he turned to shout this fact back at Charlisa, she was nowhere to be found. He was quite alone, suspended in the middle of this cold, dark, endless pool. The cold seeped through his skin, soaking into his very core until it threatened to overwhelm him. He’d forgotten how painful the cold could be.
He blinked, and he was laying on the hotel bed, staring up at the spinning fan. He could just barely make out the sound of the television on its lowest volume setting. He could also hear the sound of Joseph and Emmet sleeping in the other bed beside him. Will frowned, realizing only then that he couldn’t sense James. He sat bolt upright in he bed, looking left and right. But it was futile. James was nowhere to be found in the small hotel room. He crossed to the tiny bathroom, the door of which was open, but apart from the pile of towels that the hotel staff had left, it was empty. Will’s frowned deepened.
“Wake up,” he said briskly, turning to his sleeping friends. “James is missing. We’re going to look for him.”
He was inches away from the door to their room before he realized that James and Emmet hadn’t moved. They continued to breathe deeply and evenly, clearly still fast asleep. Annoyance and panic combining to swell together in his chest, he snorted in disgust and yanked the door open. If someone had gotten James and he couldn’t save his friend in time, he’d have something to tell those two.
Will stepped out of the hotel room and into… a wasteland. The long hallway was gone. Looking behind him, he saw that the door was gone as well. Great, he thought. He was dreaming. It was the only logical explanation for what he saw around him. He took in his new surroundings, as if to confirm what he was really looking at. He couldn’t tell what it was, as everything was just covered in ash. It clung to the ground and his clothes, as he knelt, and it hung thickly in the air, still cascading down from the sky like snow.
A small, almost silent sob caught his attention. He was up on his feet and running before he could even comprehend his actions, for he knew the voice. He recognized her at once, even under the thickly caked layer of mud and blood that coated her face. It was Charlisa. He called out her name, his voice breaking with emotion, but she didn’t respond. He knew that it was probably a dream, but it still wrenched at his heart to see her so badly wounded. Tears streaming down his face, he brushed the badly singed hair out of her face.
“Charlisa!” He said, his voice shaky with fear. “Talk to me! Are you alright?”
She still didn’t look at him. It was as if he had no idea he was there. Her eyes were fixed on something far to the side, and she continued to sob quietly, her expression torn between anger and grief. Hastily wiping his eyes with one ashy sleeve, Will followed her gaze. He felt his jaw drop open in surprise at what he saw. There, in the middle of the field of ashes, stood another person he recognized instantly, but only because it was… He couldn’t believe it. In spite of himself, he released his grip on Charlisa and ran over.
A much older version of himself was standing there, wearing the black furs that he’d been gifted. His entire frame radiated an overwhelming aura of heat, easily fifty times more intense than he’d managed so far. His eyes burned too, and his short blond hair was almost standing on end with the crackling power. Will blinked in surprise. He’d never even seen Edward look that powerful. But what was more terrifying than anything was the expression on his face. It wasn’t anger or rage. No, it was something past that. His eyes, for all their apparent fire, were dead.
“Togai!” Will jumped as his older self roared the name. His voice was deeper, and contained an entire lifetime’s worth of pain and rage. His chest was heaving. Sensing that whatever was coming wasn’t good, Will hurriedly took a few steps back. Even in the dream, it felt like his skin was burning by being too close. His dream self shouted again. “Togai! I know you’re here! Answer me!”
His voice ripped out across the barren, ashy fields, the sound almost a physical force. With it, the heat around him intensified further. It slammed over Will in an instant, shaking him badly enough that he shot upright once again. He moved so suddenly that James, who sat beside him, twitched violently, sending the remote in his hands flying across the room to smack into the wall. This, accompanied by a quiet expletive, startled Will further, and he was out of the bed before he was fully awake, hands raised.
Maybe something about his face scared James, he thought, his senses coming back to him. His friend had his hands up too, and his aura of heat was a little more palpable, the same way he acted when he was ready to fight. He had a wary sort of expression as he regarded Will, his head tilted to one side. Will shook his head roughly, trying to rid himself of that scene. Himself, so powerful and terrifying. Charlisa, wounded so badly. And Togai. Who was Togai? The source of all that destruction?
“Togai,” he muttered, running a hand over his forehead. It was covered in cold sweat. “Togai.”
“Who?” James asked, his hands still raised. Now he looked concerned. “Did you have a nightmare or something?”
Will lowered his hands at last, and made an effort to control his breathing. His chest had been heaving without him realizing it, matching the bounding heart that, just then, felt like it had been trying to break out of his chest. “I must have. It felt so real, though.”
“Was it about the cold?”
Will’s head snapped up. “How did you know that?”
James spread his hands in a pacifying gesture, for Will’s voice had shot up in volume. He hissed, “Quiet! You’re going to wake the others up. Come on, eat some food. I’ll explain.”
It was only then that Will noticed the large cart in the room. It was the cart used by hotel staff to deliver food to the rooms, he realized. And it did indeed have a lot of food on it, several plates worth of food. One of them had been cleaned completely, evidence of James’ meal. Will shook his head at the offer, and made his way back to the bed. He sat on the very edge of it, looking down at the sleeves of his shirt as if expecting to find the ashes still clinging to him. But he was perfectly clean, apart from the damp feeling that coated his entire body.
“The cold,” James said, bringing his attention back to the subject at hand. He leaned against the head board, continuing in a low voice, “It’s something we all dream about, at some point or other.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know,” James said with a shrug. He didn’t seem to be lying, Will thought. “We all dream about cold in some way or another. It could be water, or a blizzard. For me, it was a hailstorm, and I was stuck outside.”
After what felt like an hour of silence, James asked, “What was your memory?”
“Memory?” Will repeated, thrown by the sudden question. “It wasn’t a memory. It was a dream.”
“No,” James said firmly. “Each time we’ve dreamed of the cold, it was a memory. We remember the coldest we’ve ever been in our lives.”
Will frowned at that. The coldest he’d ever been in his life? Well, that hadn’t involved water. Without a doubt, it had been right before he’d gained his fire. He’d been so cold that it had almost proved lethal. In fact, he suspected that was half the point. Each time he tried to recall the event, he couldn’t remember exactly what had happened at the end there, before his flame had awoken. There had been a horrible moment where, sure that he was going to die, he’d stopped caring about much at all. It wasn’t like him.
“My dream,” he said, raising a hand to stop James, who opened his mouth to interrupt again, “Was of a deep pool of water. It was cold as hell, and I felt like I was literally freezing in place.”
“Drowning in freezing water,” James remarked with a shudder. “Not pretty. How old were you?”
“I don’t know,” Will admitted, frowning. He hadn’t been aware of a specific time frame. “But I told you, it wasn’t a memory. I’ve never been at risk of drowning in a pool where I couldn’t see. I’ve definitely never been in water that cold before.”
“Maybe you repressed it,” James offered. “When Angel had their memory of cold, they couldn’t remember.”
Will couldn’t remember who Angel was, but assumed that he was one of the Nexians whose name he hadn’t taken the time to remember. He made a mental note to really take the time to learn his fellow Nexians. But he pushed the thought away for the moment. “I mean, I’ve never dreamed or remembered anything like it. If it’s repressed, maybe my dad knows something about it.”
James shrugged. “Probably best to ask him. Just don’t mention how it made you feel.”
“Why?”
“Come on, Will,” he said, sounding exasperated. “Your dad hears you’re having nightmares about freezing to death? How do you think he’d react to that news?”
“Oh.” Will had to admit James was right on that score. Particularly when he remembered how adamant his dad had been in threatening Edward. Yes, he’d keep that to himself. “Right. Well, feel free to catch a few extra hours of sleep, if you want. I’m as awake as I’m ever going to be.”
“If you’re sure,” James said, and stretched out on the soft bed. “See you in a few hours.”
So every member of the Nexus had dreamed of freezing to death at some point or the other, he thought. That was interesting. Was it linked to their powers in some way? Will knew that it had barely been eight years since the Alphas first got their powers. The history of the Nexus was ridiculously short compared to other moments in human history. Nobody knew anything about them. He’d always assumed that the Nexians knew everything there was to know about the power. Maybe that wasn’t the case. Maybe they were just as lost as everyone else.
His mind returned to what had come after the dream about freezing. Nothing about that had been cold, he thought. Unless you counted the look in his older self’s eyes. What in the world could have happened to give him such a depraved look? He sincerely hoped that was just a dream. With a shudder, he tried to disperse the unnerving image, which clung to the inside of his eyelids, presenting itself each time he closed them. To distract himself, he thought of the name. Togai. It had a strangely familiar ring to it, he thought. Almost as if he’d met the person before. It was obviously Japanese, he thought, but he’d never met someone by that name.
He flopped down flat on the bed beside James, the name still bouncing around the back of his head. Togai. He was certain he’d heard it somewhere. It had significance, he was sure of that. But the longer he thought about it, the more the certainty drained away from him. Maybe it was some feeble connection that he was making up. He took a deep, long breath, and let it out in an even longer sigh. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by these kinds of thoughts, he told himself angrily. He sat up once more, folding his legs and closing his eyes.
It had been months since he’d last meditated. He’d forgotten how peaceful it could be.
