The Trade: The tale of a boy who experiences a moment of salvation and uses it to trade one type of insanity for another.

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Soren was falling.

He was also lucid. That was unusual. Why did he consider that unusual? Then it all came back: the moments before he had broken.

[i]Soren dashed through an infinite desert, running in vain from a pursuer who could make the imaginary wasteland bigger.[/i]

He had been told of this place: this limbo between his mind and his body, where he could see [i]everything[/i]. His heart raced as he considered the implications. That was new—he could feel his heartbeat again.

[i]Soren dove into the shallow oasis, hoping for a way out. It was deeper than he thought; he fell[/i] through [i]the water, drowning on the way, and came out in a jungle full of abominations.[/i]

He was [i]free.[/i]

[i]He heard screaming. It was his voice. Thousands of tendrils flayed him in places he didn’t know could hurt.[/i]

It’s said that only a sane man can tell who is insane. For a few shining moments, Soren was still in the mindscape; he had control. He could save himself from insanity.

[i]His fellow Lords of Chaos closed in on him. They had green hair, just like him. That was funny.[/i] All he knew was pain. [i]He laughed.[/i]

Soren tried desperately to forget it all. He gathered up the memories of his abusers wherever he could find them, smashing them together, shoving them into a box. When he shut it, he forgot.

[i]He stopped feeling. That was better. Maybe he could tell these people to stop, nicely. Anger boiled up in him, he saw red, and the jungle burned. He heard screams; they were not his own.[/i]

He found his insanity, snarls of thorny vines pulling connections apart and smashing them together. It had broken his consciousness, stolen his awareness. He had to get rid of it.

[i]He had long since stopped laughing. There was no more satisfaction in this jungle. He would simply have to take his revenge farther.[/i]

When he bundled them up and freed his mind, he screamed. The pain was back. He didn’t want it! But he didn’t want the insanity, either. What could he do with it?

[i]Soren ruled. Every Lord of Chaos bowed to him, cowering in fear. They thought they could use him in[/i] his own mind? [i]He’d teach them pain.[/i]

He couldn’t take it anymore. He dropped the ball of madness somewhere, hoping that in its shrunken state it couldn’t do any damage—and then he ran out of time. He fell out of the mindscape and into his body for the first time in months. He had escaped his insanity. He could begin again.

He stood in a grassy plain dotted with oddly shaped buildings; people he didn’t know milled about him, looking confused. [i]He[/i] was confused. Then he turned around and saw a group several yards away from him, full of his friends. Had they saved him? He thought he should feel excitement upon seeing them, but he did not. He pretended he did, anyway. “Hey!” he shouted, a huge grin on his face. His voice was hard and boyish, rough and slightly raspy, and he spoke with energy. “I’m over here, guys!”

The first person to turn around was his sister, red-white hair and all. Her eyes widened, and she rushed toward him, the others in the group following. Soren smiled, still confused, as Ruby wrapped him in her arms; he figured it was socially acceptable to hug her back.

“Welcome back, Soren,” she said, her voice catching like she was relieved. It was a little rough, like his—she must have lost her composure—but it was beautifully melodic. “It’s been so long.”

“I bet it has. Gosh, Ruby, what happened to me? It feels like it's been forever, and nobody ever told me while I was in there.”

Ruby pulled back from the hug. “Svár took over your body and mind. Then he forced you into the shared mind with the rest of the old Lords of Chaos.” Soren nodded; that last part he knew. Where had all his memories gone? He was sure he had done so much, but he felt like he only remembered the first month or two.

Data spoke up; he was a tall, pale man with a mop of black hair and a lab coat. “We located Svár, subdued him, and entered your mind,” he began, with a crisp, rich voice, deep and flowing. “There, we discovered and eradicated the corruption that some malevolent force had touched him with, and then we rescued you and brought you back in control.”

“Huh. Was it fun?” Soren wasn’t sure, but he thought he’d be able to feel fun. However, the things that ran through his mind when he thought of the word “fun” were not all socially acceptable.

“Yeah, actually, it was,” Ruby replied, tilting her head. “Since when did you care about fun? You used to be so stoic and solemn and serious.”

Soren grinned. “Ruby, if you didn’t have fun while rescuing me from [i]Svár[/i] of all people, then that was no rescue at all. And, well, I spent a lot of time with the other Lords of Chaos. They’re pretty laid-back; I think they rubbed off on me. I’m a new me, you know? I hope that’s okay.” He thought that was right, but really, he barely remembered the Lords' names, let alone what kinds of people they were.

Ruby nodded. “It’s totally okay. You’ll always be my brother.” She squeezed Soren in another tight hug. He felt tears stain his shirt. When Ruby next spoke, her voice broke. “I’m so glad you’re back.” The rest of Soren’s friends followed Ruby into the hug, enveloping him in a loving embrace.

Soren felt no love. Instead, he felt thorns. When his sister hugged him, something utterly terrible, something horrible and new, [i]grew[/i] inside him. It was anger. Unprecedented rage exploded inside of him, and in moments it seethed like a tempest. He [i]hated[/i] Ruby, and he hated his friends, and he hated the whole world he was standing on. Green magic suffused his body as he prepared to unleash his fury.

It’s said that only a sane man can tell who is insane. Soren was free from his madness. He was a new man. A sane man. After all, he had boxed up his insanity and thrown it away.

Why was there a knife in his hand?

He stabbed himself in the stomach. It felt… good.

His anger melted away. Ruby screamed, and then he blacked out. 
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