Where does the Dreamer lie
Oct 25, 2021 16:01:49 GMT -6
Post by Nadia on Oct 25, 2021 16:01:49 GMT -6
When had sleep become the enemy?
Nadia wondered. It had been weeks - months? half a year? - since she had been able to rest soundly, and longer still since she had managed to avoid night terrors. Whenever her eyelids grew heavy, so too came the weight of memory, pressing her into her mattress and paralyzing her with terror.
Blaze. Smoke. Panic.
Why should it be any different at the Hall? What was there to have faith in, when all before had disappointed her? Still, she entered with desperate hope in her heart, praying that her feet had taken her to the right place. There was nothing left to lose. If the gods were kind, there could've been a lot to gain.
A peaceful rest was a good start.
The forest floor was soft beneath her folded legs. A carpet of moss, as familiar to her as the back of her hands - her fingers smoothed over the earth as she drew in a deep breath of clean air. Still, though, it persisted. The scent of burning. The grip of the memory on her throat.
"You are not there any more," The voice spoke. Her eyes turned upwards, gazing at the tree before her. "Those things are gone."
"They are always with me," She replied. "They follow me everywhere."
Wisps of white smoke were visible behind the trunk. Her heart thudded in her chest, feet itching with the urge to flee.
"You cannot run forever," It said.
"I am not running."
It came thicker, faster. Darkening to grey, to black, swirling around her kneeling form. Threatening to swallow her. She was pinned to the spot.
"You want to live again, and you can..." The leaves trembled. She glanced further, higher, into the canopy above her head. Light was visible pouring from the heavens, even as the smoke blanketed everything below. "But you must let go."
"They will come for me. They are coming for me." Her mouth was dry. Still, though the smog, she breathed. She had to breathe.
"Then let them come..." Was that crackling? Twigs snapping in the undergrowth, or logs roasting in flame? She would not look over her shoulder. "You cannot stop it."
"I am afraid," choked out on a sob. The heat of the tears scalded her. "What do I do?"
"You refuse to live in terror. You stand. You raise yourself." The tree's branches reached towards her, cradling her, like a thorned crown. "You become new... and you are born again."
"You are not there any more," The voice spoke. Her eyes turned upwards, gazing at the tree before her. "Those things are gone."
"They are always with me," She replied. "They follow me everywhere."
Wisps of white smoke were visible behind the trunk. Her heart thudded in her chest, feet itching with the urge to flee.
"You cannot run forever," It said.
"I am not running."
It came thicker, faster. Darkening to grey, to black, swirling around her kneeling form. Threatening to swallow her. She was pinned to the spot.
"You want to live again, and you can..." The leaves trembled. She glanced further, higher, into the canopy above her head. Light was visible pouring from the heavens, even as the smoke blanketed everything below. "But you must let go."
"They will come for me. They are coming for me." Her mouth was dry. Still, though the smog, she breathed. She had to breathe.
"Then let them come..." Was that crackling? Twigs snapping in the undergrowth, or logs roasting in flame? She would not look over her shoulder. "You cannot stop it."
"I am afraid," choked out on a sob. The heat of the tears scalded her. "What do I do?"
"You refuse to live in terror. You stand. You raise yourself." The tree's branches reached towards her, cradling her, like a thorned crown. "You become new... and you are born again."
[This Draconic is name Inanna, with an elegant body type, an affinity for rebirth, and a nurturing nature.]
