Drowning I
1116 Words
MORIA
I have always had dreams.
Or at least, that is what my mother used to call them.
They had begun when I was much younger. When I still had the illusion that I was…normal.
But they had never felt like dreams.
They had always felt…real.
Like a memory buried beneath a haze of cobwebs and dancing just beyond my reach.
Each time I had one, I would be overcome with a feeing of loss and longing so intense, I would awake crying, running to my mother who would take me wordlessly into her arms and tell me that it was nothing but a dream.
A dream that would soon be over.
I had always wondered at her choice of words.
But then again, I had always wondered at my mother’s choices at many things.
As I grew older, the frequency of the dreams began to wane.
But whenever they did come, every one was marginally clearer than the one before it.
Like I had finally started to see behind the curtains.
Just a little bit at a time.
A table top of dark wood, a flowery curtain billowing in the wind…
Flashes of red, an arm, a shoe…
A gentle humming that always broke my heart.
It took me many years before I realized that they were almost always about the same place…the same person.
A woman.
I can see her again now.
Humming quietly as she flits across the cabin like room with the round table and the small billowing curtain.
And for the first time, I can make out her dress. The simple flowery pattern of it.
But it is her hair that causes the blood to begin rushing between my ears.
It falls down her back to her knees in long luscious waves, like the tendrils of something alive and powerful.
I become aware that my heart is racing.
I am not sure why.
The light from the window catches in her hair, bounces off of it, causing the blood red to sparkle and glow.
The humming is clearer now too and I can smell something warm and buttery.
She is turning towards me now…Slowly…slowly…slowly…
For the second time that day, I awake as if breaking through a fog of unconsciousness, gasping violently as my eyes fly open.
My head is reeling, pangs of regret shooting their way through the cracks and crevices of my mind.
Dream or not, some subconscious part of me knows that whoever that woman is, she is important.
I just know it.
I am still gasping for air and Chryseis is at my side in an instant. “Breathe, you’re safe, you’re fine.”
I resist the urge to push away her hands because the last thing I feel like, is safe or fine.
I want to go back to sleep and pick up my dream from the exact moment it left off.
Maybe if I could just finally see her face.
Maybe it would make everything make sense.
Maybe…
“…Moria!!”
I startle and stick one finger in my ear to block out Chryseis’ voice.
“I can hear you just fine, no need to burst my ear drums.”
She fusses with my hair, pushing the wet strands out of my eyes. “How do you feel? Can you stand? Can you walk? How’s your head?”
I sniff derisively “Want me to fill out a questionnaire while we’re at it?”
The confused expression on her face tells me my sarcasm would be very much wasted on her.
As I start to get up, dusting the grains of beach sand from between my palms, the events surrounding my falling unconscious start to come to me, accompanied by a grainy, woolly taste in my mouth.
The thing that had carried me on their back and brought me here…
I remember the feeling of what I could have sworn was fur beneath my hands but when I look around, I can see nothing that would indicate an animal…
I almost face palm myself.
Oh come on Moria…
The only animal large enough to carry me would have had to have been a horse and horses don’t have fur.
Not the type of fur I felt.
But I was barely conscious. Could I even trust myself to remember anything correctly?
And Tristen’s voice in my head.
“I will not let you turn me into something I’m not”
What the hell did that even mean?
This, everything, was crazy and stupid and…
I turn my head and the words die out in my head.
Right beside me and perfectly pressed into the soft sandy floor, are footprints.
I can feel my head tilting slightly.
A silly habit I have when I’m actively thinking about something.
No, not footprints.
These are paw prints.
One large shape, four toes in front of it and what looks like claws extending from each toe.
Almost like a dog’s but…wilder?
And the size.
No dog could make paw prints that large.
A shiver runs down my spine.
What on Earth…
Oh wait, this isn’t Earth anymore. It’s crazy land.
My head hurts.
As if to prove my point, Princess buttercup floats slightly away from me to give me room to get up.
I want to tell her to walk, please. I know she can.
For the sake of my sanity. I need to see something normal.
But before I can speak, she asks me again, about how I feel.
I frown slightly. “I feel…”
Different.
That’s the word I had been going to say.
But as I rise slowly to my feet, I realize that different isn’t quite the right word.
I feel alive.
More alive than I have ever been.
It feels like I have just had a cup of something hot and strong and sweet, except I hadn’t drank it but instead had it shot directly into my veins.
Even my vision seems clearer, colors sharper and brighter.
The smell of the ocean in my nose stinging and sharp.
The intensity of it all overwhelms me and I stagger, swaying on my feet.
“What…what did you people do to me?”
A warm hand wraps itself around my arm, the other snakes its way around my waist to hold me upright.
A deep easy drawl in my ear.
“Easy there princess”
I blink up into Axe’s amused face.
“I swear to God if you guys gave me drugs…”
Axe opens his mouth to respond but a different voice answers before he can.
“That must be how people on Earth say thank you after you save their life.”
- Writer
