[ WP ] '' Welcome to Nexus , the city between ''

“ Between what? ” I asked. It was the only thing I could think of asking, really, because the whole thing was very overwhelming. 
 
 “ What? ” The centaur replied. 
 “ What ’ s the city between? ” 
 
 “ It ’ s not between anything, it ’ s just the city between. ” 
 
 “ Oh so it ’ s like an abstract between? Like, am I in limbo? ” Starting to get it a little more. 
 “ No, what? No. It ’ s not abstract, you ’ re standing on it so obviously it ’ s not abstract. It ’ s just between. ” He replied, starting to get it a little less. 
 “ But between is a preposition! It can ’ t not be related to other things, that doesn ’ t make sense! ” I exclaimed, a little more aggressively than intended. 
 
 “ Well I dunno about all that. All I knows is, it ’ s called Nexus, and it ’ s the city between. ” By now he was clearly flummoxed by the concept of the word between including two other things for the first thing to be *tween* by, and I happened to know that Nexus also means a connective hub of some sort, so he was probably in the wrong. But once you get to the age I was at that age, roughly thirty seconds AD, you learn that arguing with random centaurs is a waste of time. 
 
 “ Okay so why am I here then. ” It seemed the next logical question. 
 
 “ Dunno that either. ” He replied helpfully. 
 
 “ Well, why are you here? ” 
 
 “ To welcome new souls to the Nexus obviously. ” 
 
 “ Well I must say, you ’ re not really doing a very good job. ” 
 
 “ Oh aye, alright mister, comin ’ in ‘ ere with your big words and fancy talking, bashing my job, telling me how to live my life, spoutin ’ madness about the city being between two fings. It ’ s between the ground and the sky, ain ’ t it! I tell ya it ’ s alright for some, being ladida hoity toity layabouts, travelling from city to city, insulting the peasantry. Some of us actually work for a livin ’ y ’ know… ” and the rant became gradually less audible as shoved past me and trotted away, the occasionally prick left behind like a wake. And that was it. Not really sure what to do next, I looked up. No sky. Just open space and countless stars. I looked down. No ground, I was just standing on the tension of deep, dark water. I scanned the horizon. Straight ahead, in the far, far distance, I could just see the silhouette of a single mountain. Behind me, a light was very gently peeking through the curtains of night. 
 
 *You have to race it*. I heard in my head, which was very strange indeed, because I didn ’ t think I thought it, and it certainly wasn ’ t my voice in my head – for one, my voice was male. *You didn ’ t think it*. My mind replied. *I did*. Who am I? I thought in response. *Me*. That ’ s really not helpful at all. *Just look back at the mountain*. I spun my head to find myself staring deep into the yellow eyes of a little black cat, sitting up patiently on the surface, its tail wrapped around its legs. “ Oh. ” I said aloud. I wasn ’ t sure if the situation now made more or less sense, nor if it was either polite, or incredibly impolite, to reply out loud to someone in your head. 
 
 *You think a lot. Don ’ t you ever get sick of your own voice? * 
 “ Nah, it ’ s just become background noise by now. ” 
 *So you don ’ t think about the things you think about? How very odd. Either way, you have to race the sun to the mountain. * 
 “ Oh. ” I said again. I ’ d been saying that a whole lot recently, it was my default reaction to surprising new information. “ How far away is the mountain? ” 
 *Far. * 
 “ Okay, then how long does it take the sun to get there? ” 
 *A long time. * 
 “ So how fast do I have to go to beat it? ” 
 *Physically? Not very. Statistically, faster than anyone who ’ s ever tried. * 
 I was now slightly more alarmed, partly because I may be wasting precious time having a conversation with a particularly creative batch of psychosis. “ What happens if I don ’ t make it? ” 
 *Not sure. * 
 “ What happens if I do? ” 
 *Not sure. * 
 “ You ’ re less help than the centaur. ” 
 The voice in my head giggled ever so quietly. 
 *Well, I ’ ll tell you what I know. Your soul is a human soul. Human souls are very accustomed to being between things. You are currently between the sun and the mountain. If the sun beats you to the mountain, you will no longer be between those things. That ’ s bad. If you beat the sun to the mountain, it ’ s probably good. Probably. No one ’ s ever done it. Try not to drown. Try not to get lost. Ignore the honest, lie to the liars; always have at least one penny, but never exactly two. If you see the boatman, run. * 
 “ Anything else? ” I said, somewhat sarcastically; the gravity of it all hadn ’ t quite hit me. 
 *Have fun. * The cat giggled again, and then it was gone. I didn ’ t see it disappear, it didn ’ t exactly vanish, it just wasn ’ t there. In its place, a single, very worn, silver coin. I pocketed it, looked back at the sun, looked forward to the mountain. 
 
 *Shit. * It was definitely me that time. 

