In the moment of confusion and awe, Archie found himself at the mercy of the wind as it continued to blow and the leaves from the trees and nearby bushes rustled. His reality was intertwined with dreams, which he initially thought were figments of fantasies.
The wind was so powerful, almost like a sentient presence attempting to convey messages to Archie through the tremendous force of the wind. He gasped at the revelation of the wind trying to get through with him; he could not bear the uncertainty and yelled, "Stop! Stop! Stop, please! God of Wind?"
Out of nowhere, Archie relived the dream in which a certain race of beings began to materialize, and a young boy accompanied his father on a journey into the forest to hunt wild creatures for dinner using air and wind.
"It was you! The little boy in my visions, you were the one who controlled the wind and saved me when I was about to die." As the situation aroused him, Archie spoke.
"Your father called you a name that I barely remember. What was it? Zephyr?"
Suddenly, pebbles from the ground started arranging themselves, spelling the word 'S-I-D'.
"Sid! That was it! Those dreams were real situations from your past." The wind howled again. Archie confirmed that he didn't possess magic when he came into this world; he did not conjure the wind, but a wind deity appeared to be his guardian angel, watching over him.
"Can you talk to me, Sid? Please, I have so many questions."
The wind howled again and a voice whispered to his ears, "No."
Perplexed by the answer Archie had just received, he didn't know how to proceed from there. So he asked the wind, "Is there a way to restore your form?"
Sid blew harder and harder, pushing Archie in a certain direction, where he needed to wander further into the forest, as he tried to guide Archie on a path that defied his urban instincts.
Archie wasn't too keen to walk into the forest. As a city boy who usually spends his time rollerblading and parkouring besides studying to be a doctor, the natural environment was something that only popped up in his dreams.
Archie was resisting the force of the wind as it continued to blow. Then the wind stopped and it whispered once more, "Walk."
"Alright, alright, keep blowing and when it is time to stop, just stop blowing," Archie relented and decided to follow the ethereal deity's instruction, since it saved his life earlier.
He was faced with an undeniable reality as he stepped into an environment far removed from the concrete jungle that he was accustomed to.
Archie came across remnants of a long-forgotten community as he explored the forest's depths, hinting at a turbulent past. He passed through a deserted clearing where cottages were burned down.
Standing amidst the ruins, Archie was confronted with the physical manifestation of his dreams.
As Archie stood in the clearing in the middle of the village, the lines between the past and present blurred. The wind continued to blow, but Archie stood still in a trance, looking straight ahead, where he saw a race of people manifested from his imagination, walking around the quaint village.
Archie delved further into the memories, where time seemed to stand still. He gazed towards the once-picture village as a race of people materialized like they were in front of him.
The tribe of people with pale complexions, platinum-blond hair, and striking blue eyes were walking around, living their peaceful provincial lives. The cottages were reverted back to their original state, the one in which they were habitable.
A fountain was smack dab in the center of the village square, and the kids were racing around it, drenching each other as they played.
'How carefree.' Archie thought as he reminisced about the memories that were strange but familiar at the same time.
Archie walked ahead towards the end of the village and hiked above the hill to reach a small cottage with a family of four. He relived the dream once more, where he dreamt of Sid helping his mother draw water from the well. Then the little girl created creatures out of clay.
Archie raised his hands, trying to reach the little girl, as a pebble was suddenly tossed towards his face. He blinked as he was jolted out of his reverie.
After that, Archie took another look around to see that the surrounding area had reverted back to its desolation state. The ground was blackened with ashes and soot, and the trees were burned like charred wood used for charcoal. The cottage was entirely burned into cinders.
The pebble had struck Archie's bleeding forehead, and he reached his hand up to touch it. His fingers were stained with his crimson-red blood, but he wasn't angry at the wind for knocking him out of the trance.
"This was my home," Sid said, as Archie heard the wisp of a whisper once more.
Archie took a sharp turn and looked in the direction of the sound. "Who are you? Why am I here? Why am I dreaming figments of your past?"
The wind blew once more as it tried to push him in the direction of the charred forest ahead of the cottage.
Despite the initial reluctance, Archie followed the directions of the wind and ventured into the forest ruin. It was in the very forest in his dreams that the father son duo went hunting for food.
Two lifeless bodies, entwined in an embrace as if seeking solace from one another, lay in the middle of the forest fire that had consumed the surrounding basin.
"The fire should have destroyed these skeletons." Archie remarked aloud and he squatted down for a closer look. His fingers touched the fingers of the smaller skeleton, and it suddenly crumbled into ashes.
Now the wind blew harder, as if it were enraged at being stripped of its final physical form. After a while, as the clouds circling above the sky grew darker and grimmer, the skeletons were long gone; instead, the airy wind created a mini-tornado.
Archie's eyes widen at the supernatural activity. The apparitions of what looked like a man slowly manifested his torso, arms, legs and finally his head, with an ethereal human form drifting through the celestial haze.
Archie was scared of what might happen next, but his legs were glued to the ground, too weak to move. His hands were above his face to block the cloud of dust and dirt lifted from the ground, making it hard to breathe.