11-11-2019, 11:18 PM
Larva is gone just as quickly as her eyes blink.
Something changes around her – the atmosphere, their surroundings – and she is pulled into an alter-reality that tests her balance at first. Beneath her body, Dillan’s legs tremble with uncertainty. Decades have past since she last paid attention to anything except the emerald eyes and dappled skin of her lover. Without him clutched at her side, she is immediately lost and confused although she maintains an expression of steadfast determination. In masking her uncertainty, she attempts to exemplify courage and strength while she catalogues their surroundings once the curtain has been lifted from her eyes.
The river ahead gurgles. It draws her nearer as she searches for a reflection only to see the tree branches above, as though she does not even exist. A breath catches in her throat and she reels back abruptly until her rear leg stumbles over a rock. <i>”It’s okay,”</i> she whispers reassuringly to herself as her body becomes rigid. A breeze kisses her skin. A voice speaks to her – to them. The overwhelming familiarity are thousands of knives puncturing her when she turns her head to see the face addressing them. <i>”Nikkai?”</i> Memories wash across her as relentlessly as the river current and the roaring waterfall (oh, how the waterfall triggers another onslaught of images). Questions rise to the tip of her tongue, but they never fall into the suspended space among them. Her body yearns to reach for the former Queen, to embrace her, but fear burrows far deeper and forces her to take pause.
A curt nod is all she can give to Nikkai, both in acknowledgment and understanding.
They were both soldiers once. They know how to address challenges and how to funnel their efforts.
But this is so strange and so new.
When her head whips to the side, it’s as though everything is in slow motion. A frantic search rakes across those surrounding her in search of Larva. <i>”<b>He</b> is my person,”</i> and her heart aches for him and wants to see him across the way so that she may leap into his arms.
Dillan hesitates. A breath expands her chest and she moves toward the river bank again with eyes that see and understand more and with a heart that opens itself to all.
Another voice calls out, but her name does not stand alone amid the fray. <b>”Mother,”</b> she hears, and her gut wrenches. Immediately, her head lifts and she sees Shiya far ahead, separated by the broad, tumultuous river. <i>”My little girl,”</i> Dillan yells to deaf ears, her voice washed away by the unraveling chaos. <i>”Shiya,”</i> without looking over her shoulder to find Larva, she adds, <i>”It’s our daughter. We need to reach her, to save her.”</i> As though she, herself, does not require saving. Emotion climbs into her throat, choking her. <i>”We need to reach our little girl, Larva,”</i> the child that suffered time and time again, the daughter they seemingly failed.
Impatience quickens her reeling thoughts and destroys the hesitation pausing her footsteps. She edges closer to the water, and she tries again to see her reflection only to see nothing but the sky now.
But it doesn’t deter her this time.
It makes her look harder.
Logs, branches, and leaves all drift past her, carried along the current toward a deadly drop. A curious glance finds the crease in the water’s edge, and her heart instinctively hammers in her chest at remembering the Dazzling Waterfall that she once adored so much.
A log in front of her shifts, unlodging itself from the muddy bank until Dillan gingerly places a hoof onto it. A rigidity stiffens its decaying bark and it solidifies and strengthens itself enough to support her weight as she fearfully continues to step forward until she is entirely on its eerily still surface. Shuffling footsteps gradually ease her toward the far edge of the log where at the end is only rushing water. A breath sighs from her lungs as she glances up toward Shiya then back to the water’s surface. A leaf begins drifting by, but the second Dillan touches it with the tip of her hoof, it, too, freezes.
Is she weightless? In death, can she not sink?
Questions drift as easily as flower petals through her mind as her hooves make contact with all the leaves dancing close enough to her reach. Each one of them becomes rigid, supporting her weight – weightlessness? – until she can move ahead another few steps and begin the process again. Shiya attempts to help, mirroring Dillan by edging onto a petrified, fallen log.
Mother and daughter work in tandem, but Shiya can only go so far until an invisible barrier stops her in her tracks. <b>”Come on, mom!”</b> More leaves, branches, flowers, feathers, logs. They all somehow freeze and anchor underfoot until she forges an unnatural bridge. <i>”I’m almost there, darling,”</i> she cries in exertion as she waits for more debris to find her, to complete this odd, afterlife bridge. Exhaustion plucks at her muscles, but she gives every last effort in hopes it will not come crashing down on her. In her brief wait, she looks over her shoulder to find Larva before looking ahead to Shiya, toward her end goal in this maddening world of life and death. <i>”Come on,”</i> she whispers during her lengthy wait, desperate to finish paving her way home.
Something changes around her – the atmosphere, their surroundings – and she is pulled into an alter-reality that tests her balance at first. Beneath her body, Dillan’s legs tremble with uncertainty. Decades have past since she last paid attention to anything except the emerald eyes and dappled skin of her lover. Without him clutched at her side, she is immediately lost and confused although she maintains an expression of steadfast determination. In masking her uncertainty, she attempts to exemplify courage and strength while she catalogues their surroundings once the curtain has been lifted from her eyes.
The river ahead gurgles. It draws her nearer as she searches for a reflection only to see the tree branches above, as though she does not even exist. A breath catches in her throat and she reels back abruptly until her rear leg stumbles over a rock. <i>”It’s okay,”</i> she whispers reassuringly to herself as her body becomes rigid. A breeze kisses her skin. A voice speaks to her – to them. The overwhelming familiarity are thousands of knives puncturing her when she turns her head to see the face addressing them. <i>”Nikkai?”</i> Memories wash across her as relentlessly as the river current and the roaring waterfall (oh, how the waterfall triggers another onslaught of images). Questions rise to the tip of her tongue, but they never fall into the suspended space among them. Her body yearns to reach for the former Queen, to embrace her, but fear burrows far deeper and forces her to take pause.
A curt nod is all she can give to Nikkai, both in acknowledgment and understanding.
They were both soldiers once. They know how to address challenges and how to funnel their efforts.
But this is so strange and so new.
When her head whips to the side, it’s as though everything is in slow motion. A frantic search rakes across those surrounding her in search of Larva. <i>”<b>He</b> is my person,”</i> and her heart aches for him and wants to see him across the way so that she may leap into his arms.
Dillan hesitates. A breath expands her chest and she moves toward the river bank again with eyes that see and understand more and with a heart that opens itself to all.
Another voice calls out, but her name does not stand alone amid the fray. <b>”Mother,”</b> she hears, and her gut wrenches. Immediately, her head lifts and she sees Shiya far ahead, separated by the broad, tumultuous river. <i>”My little girl,”</i> Dillan yells to deaf ears, her voice washed away by the unraveling chaos. <i>”Shiya,”</i> without looking over her shoulder to find Larva, she adds, <i>”It’s our daughter. We need to reach her, to save her.”</i> As though she, herself, does not require saving. Emotion climbs into her throat, choking her. <i>”We need to reach our little girl, Larva,”</i> the child that suffered time and time again, the daughter they seemingly failed.
Impatience quickens her reeling thoughts and destroys the hesitation pausing her footsteps. She edges closer to the water, and she tries again to see her reflection only to see nothing but the sky now.
But it doesn’t deter her this time.
It makes her look harder.
Logs, branches, and leaves all drift past her, carried along the current toward a deadly drop. A curious glance finds the crease in the water’s edge, and her heart instinctively hammers in her chest at remembering the Dazzling Waterfall that she once adored so much.
A log in front of her shifts, unlodging itself from the muddy bank until Dillan gingerly places a hoof onto it. A rigidity stiffens its decaying bark and it solidifies and strengthens itself enough to support her weight as she fearfully continues to step forward until she is entirely on its eerily still surface. Shuffling footsteps gradually ease her toward the far edge of the log where at the end is only rushing water. A breath sighs from her lungs as she glances up toward Shiya then back to the water’s surface. A leaf begins drifting by, but the second Dillan touches it with the tip of her hoof, it, too, freezes.
Is she weightless? In death, can she not sink?
Questions drift as easily as flower petals through her mind as her hooves make contact with all the leaves dancing close enough to her reach. Each one of them becomes rigid, supporting her weight – weightlessness? – until she can move ahead another few steps and begin the process again. Shiya attempts to help, mirroring Dillan by edging onto a petrified, fallen log.
Mother and daughter work in tandem, but Shiya can only go so far until an invisible barrier stops her in her tracks. <b>”Come on, mom!”</b> More leaves, branches, flowers, feathers, logs. They all somehow freeze and anchor underfoot until she forges an unnatural bridge. <i>”I’m almost there, darling,”</i> she cries in exertion as she waits for more debris to find her, to complete this odd, afterlife bridge. Exhaustion plucks at her muscles, but she gives every last effort in hopes it will not come crashing down on her. In her brief wait, she looks over her shoulder to find Larva before looking ahead to Shiya, toward her end goal in this maddening world of life and death. <i>”Come on,”</i> she whispers during her lengthy wait, desperate to finish paving her way home.