Level Ten: Philophobia

"W-was I-I not just on fire?" I shouted distraught, lightly skimming my upper thigh for only a tad of the injuries. No mark was left behind, and as great as that was, I felt that I shouldn't know who or what to trust in this world inside my head. Everything I thought from a moment ago was appearing to be a hallucination, that gave me scars in every way except physical.

"You were on 'mental' fire," Camdyn attempted explanation, but that didn't mean anything made sense right after. He didn't really have much conviction himself. He's passing on what he heard Blake say and nothing else. It's clear as day.

"No, no, I wasn't, I heard Blake with my own ears, that if it went on I'd be burned alive. That's not a mental fire, that's a real one," I defended against him, turning to Blake for more information. If anyone was going to educate me enough I'd be capable of believing it, or if anyone was going to at least persuade me that I was wrong, it had to be him. He's more native here than anyone else. Even me.

"I trained for these with Shyrene," his voice cracked at the mention of her name. "What these levels are considered are mental-to-deeper-mental or how it would feel for you, mental to physical. If that mental fire had went up all the way to your head, it would start again as a real fire at your feet, and that one would harm you, which injuries you'd have to live with for the rest of the game, if you lived through it, that is. So in short, you got a free trial, and then, if you used it up, you'd have to pay."

I shook my head, unable to take in what they were saying. "Wait, wait," I murmured, my hands up toward them and my head down, scared to look up. "If it was a mental fire how would you know that I was on fire? Yeah, granted, you're in my head, but I'm still my own person regardless. I should have the upper hand in those terms. I would know about you before you'd know about me. Isn't that how this works?"

"Yes, that hasn't changed, Ell," Blake promised. He was filled with more purpose having to explain something to me; having to help someone out. It made him more lively. Only a little, but a little can go a long way. "But majority of your body that you felt to be up in flames, glowed like the sun itself. Like the woman you are, and like the power you hold. We were told during training that they'd slip that in; the sun-strength you behold, and that it'd be super made clear to us, even if it's amongst danger, to really get across who you are. I'm a bit surprised that they put it in on a level connecting to fire. It sounds like an easy way to slip it in, but it's true too, nothing about your power is basic. It's complexity makes it amplifying and astonishing. What a privilege that is."

I sighed. "I wish I thought of it that way all the time."

"I'm glad you're not hurt. Focus on that, hm?" Camdyn came in with attempts to lighten the mood. "At least there's not a trace of injury on your body, besides that one wound from way back."

Blake scratched the back of his head. "Well, technically—." He spit out, trailing off before it could mean anything.

"Oh god, what's that supposed to mean?" Cams asked. He took the words I wanted to say right out of my throat, and they burned there, locked up, when they didn't get the distraction of his answer to soften them. Blake didn't give that for a long time, but instead, had walked over closer to me, his palm opened, facing my stomach. He didn't touch me, and had only came close to. It hovered there frozen, emitting this blue-green colored light, if I wasn't seeing things.

"What are you doing?" I had to say, out of the weirdness of the situation. It began to sting in some areas, in others throb, in others burn, and I feared what his intention was with this.

Again, he didn't answer, his focus on whatever it was he was trying to focus on, his priority. When it began to weaken a little, I had to ask again, or at least call out his name. I put faith in him hearing me this time around. "Blake? Blake! What's the meaning of this?"

"Just look," he finally murmured, a small nod to his head to point me in the direction he paid so close attention to, and a pucker of the lips to accompany it, all with the same purpose. "Do you see that?"

I looked as he had gently commanded me to. On my abdomen was a bunch of stab wounds; an entire clutter of them, but only when that light from his hands would shine on them. I furrowed my brows at such a sight. I never went through such trauma myself, and I'd think that if I did, I would remember.

"You were there when this happened, but it wasn't directed at you. Can you place it?" He asked, and staring down at it absolutely blew my mind I couldn't create a reply, or really, even a thought. A second ago, I didn't see anything of the sort, and the next I could not only see it, but feel it's pain. "These were Shyrene's stab wounds. When Camdyn, out of self defense, stabbed her 39 times. The same goes for when Camdyn was strangled, and I just jumped in a fire legit a second ago, or anything else that happened. There's record of it all over you, because this is your head. This is your memory. If you wanted to see how those things happened, you could access it too."

I bit my lip. I wasn't sure it'd begin quivering, but knowing me, I couldn't be shocked if it did. "I-I don't understand."

"Your scars show, because they're yours. You might be living this life in your mind, so you carry your own injuries as we go through these levels, but you carry ours too, secretly, hidden there that we can't see with the human eye. There's mental fires, and you saw and felt that, and there's mental wounds, scabs, burns, and scars, which you can feel right now. It's a real thing."

For some reason, my eyes welled with tears. "Thank you," I said, the words slipping my mouth, and at first I didn't get why I did myself, but as I thought about it some more, I understood. He deserved that much. More, actually, but that at minimum.

"I don't see why you'd be thanking me for literally sharing the darkest structures of your brain with you—."

"No, no." I interrupted him, my hands waving out in front of my face. "Thank you for sacrificing your life for me. You do sacrifice a lot, more than I've ever chose to realize, and you deserve more gratitude for that. It's not mere donation. You've suffered on my behalf so many times, the proof is written on me, and we haven't known each other long. Thank you for keeping me alive, in the good and the bad. You stepping-up is the reason I'm here, and that we're going to make it."

"Oh," was the most he could say, but he looked more at ease, and on his face was the happiest smile I've seen since Shyrene's disappearance.

I have to call that something.

LEVEL TEN; PHILOPHOBIA

COURSE FOR FEAR OF LOVE HAS BEEN PREPPED

GAME WILL START

"Fear of love?" Camdyn shrieked, that was quite humorous if I were to be honest, but when he turned to me, the serious concerned look on his face he went to fright afterward wasn't. "If this level is mine, then this is not a big deal whatsoever, but if it's yours then I know that it's definitely my fault and I'm so extremely sorry for that. I didn't mean for it to come to this, but I did enjoy what we had and I will treasure every moment that I had with you, I really do mean that, and I'd do whatever it took to make it up to you. Truthfully."

"Camdyn," I called to him, as his words of the same type and meaning that started to lose their sense continue to ramble on. I had to rely on a second try. "Camdyn!" I said, this time a little bit louder. His speech slurred to a lull and I took a deep breath to ensure that he'd copy me, and relax, so I could talk without him accidentally cutting in with his panic-stricken emotion.

"I'm not afraid of love. I claimed this in a lot of levels before, I know, but I'm certain of this. Love comes in so many forms anyway, and in the movies it looks magical, like it's not something to be afraid of, and that everyone always lives happily ever after. I'm not afraid of it, because I know there's always some kind of good in every love story to make it love, even if it was only a little. I promise you, it's not a fear."

"Are you certain?" He made sure to clarify, positioning himself comfortably, but seriously on the floor in front of me, enough that made him not necessarily intimidating, but that made you wonder to a certain degree that you gave ear. "Because I don't know what this level would carry, and how hard it would be, but if I just sat down and tell the story on my own, could it possibly speed this along? Are free tokens granted in your land?"

I shrugged, unsure. Blake took over for me. "It depends on what kind of level it is, but right now we don't have any input on that. There hasn't been any movement since we were given the level title, so it's not impossible that if you beat it out by giving Ell the information first, that would match up to what they intended to portray, that you have yourself a simpler escape route. If it's wrong, then you'll have to go through the level anyway," He waited it out for a second, seeming to expect Camdyn to take the spotlight, but when he didn't, he granted him verbal permission. "I think it's worth the shot. You could get lucky. It could save you. Do take the stage."

As if in line to his commandment, Camdyn had the attention of a light overhead, it made everywhere else darker. He cleared his throat, preparing how he was going to begin, as if to take his time, but his antsy gestures showed the opposite; the rush that he felt he was in. It was contradicting, and I didn't get it at first. It settled into me after a few that he was stalling, realizing what he got into, while at the same time, wanting to get it started fast, with how Blake worded it. He finally began when he found balance between the two, and he didn't stutter.

"When I was a boy, growing up in Japan, I remember we'd always go to my grandparents, my mom's parent's, house out of nowhere; without warning, all of the sudden, just because. We didn't have a reason to, but the family was tightly knit and it became a norm.

"The house would smell like ikinari dango, a potato-based dessert, that was my grandmother's go-to for some reason — very different than the fresh pan de sal for breakfast that I got used to in the Philippines when I'd stay with friends, or at home on one of my dad's good days. Somehow, and I still don't know to this day, how exactly, they'd get my parents out of the way, and sit me down in the kitchen corner, smacking away at my ikinari dango, to say the same thing, that I can't count how much I've heard it."

"Not to be like my mother. Not to break the family tradition like she did. Not to get caught up in love stories. But to what? To stick to arranged marriage like they did. That if my parents didn't believe in that themselves, then to listen to them as if being grandparents automatically meant better advice. To let them decide who would be my wife. Who I would grow old with.

"At first, the meaning of what they were saying didn't click. I was too little, I assume, but just a couple years later, something about it stuck to me after hearing it so much, and for me, it didn't feel right. It didn't make sense because I genuinely believe that love is love. It doesn't matter how much money they have, or what they do for a living or what country they're from, or how far they got in school, or how they did in their education. It's a decision that I have to make, because it's a decision that I'm living with, right? Not someone else."

"But that's where the fear started. Maybe I was always too much of a people pleaser, and I didn't want to hurt anyone. I didn't want to let myself down, but I didn't want to disappoint them either, you know? I wanted to prove that the mixed child could be of some worth, and that I'd be the first and last 'flaw' in the system. That I could 'save' the family line after my mom messed up choosing what they called the wrong man, but in reality, I never believed that they needed saving. They were happy, definitely. The most perfect family I've ever known, that nothing can come close."

"That should've made me feel like I knew what I should do. That I should be with who I fall in love with, but instead, I freaked out about connecting my heart with anyone. Someone is going to dislike her, someone is going to give her a hard time, someone is going to drive her away, whatever happened, and I hate thinking about that. So I labeled love as this big bad curse that would ruin me."

"Skipping forward years later, my mom dies. She's attacked by her own family member, and neighbor out of jealousy that she'd gotten pregnant yet again because she couldn't get pregnant and was angry at my mom's sudden success. I was seventeen or barely eighteen, we would've had quite the gap, but I was looking forward to meeting him, big time. Yet on that gruesome day, that intruder killed two people. I never got to meet my brother. It hit me then, that child was a product of my parent's love, and people disliked that. People weren't happy for them. In the end, love as great as it's supposed to be, has the power to kill but it cannot resurrect, and I was certain I wanted nothing to do with that. Not after I watched something worth more than gold and stronger than iron completely collapse."

"My father and I— we packed our bags after that and looked for a fresh start in his hometown in Bohol. Well he looked and I followed him without a choice is more the truth than anything, but I met a girl there who changed my mind. I knew that love can tear you to shreds and leave these everlasting scars that don't go away, but she — she was the person who made me believe in love when I didn't believe in it anymore."

"The one who I loved while I was afraid of the love I was giving and receiving, until eventually I wasn't afraid anymore. I fell for her; head over heels in love with her, and then yeah, we ended, but unlike what I thought would happen because I was so afraid to love someone, I don't regret it. If I didn't have that relationship with that woman, I don't think I could know who I am today."

I stood up so immediately nobody could anticipate it. "Why?" I hollered, my hand slammed against the first hard surface it could find. He was talking indirectly, but there wasn't any other way it could be. "Why would you overcome a fear of love with so much history and agony and memories, to fall for me?"

Camdyn curled his lips up smugly. "The real question Mars, is why wouldn't I? Have you ever properly seen yourself?" He shut his eyes, as if to take something from the past back in, and with the way he positioned his body, so swiftly and light like a feather, it was like those times were the brightest days he'd had and like he was so content he'd never ask for anything more, and it's like he could see it right before him as he spoke. "You were this butterfly. So, so extremely gorgeous, every part of you, and yet you didn't even know it. So gorgeous inside and out that I was able to learn to live vicariously through myself."

I scoffed. "Cams, that doesn't even make sense. Do you even know what 'vicariously' means?"

"I do," he scoffed in return like he was mocking me, to cover it up with a serene chuckle. "But it does make sense. I'm doing things that I've only imagined other people are capable of. I'm doing things that I only thought would get done if I lived through other people. Doing things that I would've never dared to do otherwise. I'm living vicariously through myself, because of you."

And it's like everything began to fall into place. All the questions that were left unanswered were no longer blank. He was forced into the world of my own head for us to notice important things that we brushed over before. That sometimes you have to go through a crazy amount of things that make it difficult to love someone, and they can be extreme, sometimes life-threatening, or to the point that they at least feel like they are.

It's not an easy journey, but the purpose isn't to see the tip of the iceberg. It's to see what's underneath it. It's about seeing the roots and not the tree, and when the layer of grasses is facing a giant tornado or the seas are facing a giant wave, underneath, taking cover you're safe and sound. Where you can see how worth it everything is. I think I've been blessed with the miracle of understanding that. Finally.

My fingers grazed the smoothness of his cheek, creeping down to his upper lip, and with that simple touch, it's as if I was teasing myself. I walked right into longing for him much more than I originally planned, but it was okay, mostly because he longed for me just as much. I could see it on his face, feel it in the air, in the sync of our beating hearts; everywhere.

My own lips tingled, jealous of the action of my fingertips to his skin, and I couldn't resist. It was too much to hold back on.

Each of us got what we wanted, fireworks going off in my stomach. I loved the taste of him. I felt so much familiarity, so much warmth, respect, love, compassion, that I couldn't see how it would be possible to leave.

I couldn't believe that I ever did.

"I love you, Camdyn Sacar," I said, in between the kiss, barely managing to break it off for long enough to say the words.

"I love you too, Ellie Reyes," He answered, using not the name that was a mockery of high school enemies, but as the woman I have grown up to become, and the woman he has come to love me as, exactly for the person I am. It sent an extra rush of blood through my veins, and it danced at my cheeks like it was time for a stage performance of their own.

He held me, tighter into him, and if it was in my imagination or not I could swear I could still smell that cherry blossom smell. His chin rested on my shoulder as he held my body, and his whisper was electrifying down my spine. "Babe, I never stopped loving you."

Peeking from around the corner as a quiet fanboy, purposely doing what he could not to disturb the moment, which I'm thankful for, Blake whispered to no one in particular, that I could barely overhear.

"They were right," he took a breath, a grin on his face, big enough it showed his teeth. "I need Shyrene back. We've barely had our chance and I want that too. I want what they have. How could I dare give up?"

LEVEL TEN PASSED

ONE LIFE REMAINING

LEVEL ELEVEN CONSTRUCTION IN PROGRESS