Mad Woman Rambles

The fall was unexpected. Plummeting through the dark void with distant twinkles of light–like millions of glittering stars–streaked past at my descent. I had stopped screaming a while ago, wondering if and when I might land. My curiosity was answered a moment later as my bare feet landed in the soft, black, shimmering sand below me.

Whatever this place was, it made me more graceful than I was in my real life. I didn’t even need to crouch or pick myself up off the ground. I whipped my head around, unsure of what was going to happen next. The tiny pin pricks of light surrounded me, looking like glitter that was thrown up and held suspended in the air by an invisible space.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” the Oath Breaker’s smooth voice cut through the silence. Sound was completely absent here, and I hadn’t realized it. I turned in the direction of her voice. She stood at my side; a flowing pale green dress shifted on an unseen breeze. Her raven hair almost blended in with the surroundings, making it shimmer as if made of stardust. All of this set against the pale blue of her skin. She was just breathtaking like a Godd–and it hit me.

“Gaia?” I questioned, taken aback by what this could truly mean. She smiled at me warmly and reached out her long, elegant fingers.

“I always knew you were smarter than you gave yourself credit for,” she commented, tucking a loose strand of my blonde hair behind my ear. My mouth gaped open like a big-mouth bass before I could form any words.

“How? Why me?” I blurted out not, believing for a moment I was standing beside a genuine Goddess. The mother of this planet, Earth. ‘Holy Hellballs!’ I stood there, realizing she still had her hand held out to me. She laughed a throaty laugh as I took her hand and felt such warmth. Like laying on a sidewalk at the end of a summer’s day watching the night sky take over. I melted right on that spot, but she pulled me along.  

“Come, child. It is time to get to the nasty business of removing the coercion,” she said, steering me towards a light that grew brighter the closer we moved towards it. “In order to break this,” she said, turning back towards me and waving at all of me. “We have to walk through your memory until we find the moment it was placed on you. Then snip, snip, and Bob’s your uncle.” She laughed again at her joke as she held up a pair of silver scissors that gleamed in the darkness, opening and closing it to mime the action of cutting. “I have always loved that saying.”

I was still at a loss for words, so I did the next best thing and continued following her. We quickly approached the bright light, which dimmed until it revealed a plain wooden door. There wasn’t anything notable about it, just a door with a brass handle. Gaia turned to face me, stepping beside the door. Light seeped around the edge, giving off a faint glow. She looked from the door to me expectantly. I returned a look, mine more confused than expectant.

“Well, go on,” she encouraged. Again, I looked at her, wholly confused.

“What am I supposed to do?” I questioned, not wanting to sound dumb but feeling it regardless.

“Oh, right, of course you wouldn’t know what to do.” She giggled. “Humans. So cute,” she said to herself. To me, “You have to open the door. I can’t. Well, I shouldn’t. It’s rude.” She explained.

“What’s rude?” I asked, shifting in the soft sand underfoot.

“Opening the door to your memories.” She replied matter-of-factly.

“Oh! Wait! Behind that door are my memories.” I paused. “We are really going to walk through my mind?” I asked, astonished. “Wait! Why can’t you just go in there?”

“Don’t be silly. We are not walking through your mind. Not like your djinn friend. We have to explore your memories. They are technically on a different plane of existence, and your mind accesses them as needed. However, your soul owns and controls access to them. No other being is allowed to access them without your expressed permission.” She explains, giving me a very patient look as you would give a child.

I frown, “Then how do psychics and other beings access people’s memories?” I think back to all the times I have shared memories with Korbin. The times Jona rifled through my thoughts. “Are there beings out there that access those memories even if you don’t give them permission?” I ask, fascinated and terrified at the same time.

Her perky disposition sours, and her smile dips. “Yes, there are beings out there that can manipulate or try to steal memories.” She gives me a serious look. “Those beings are very powerful and use a magic that is banned across the cosmos. The last ones who practiced openly have been banished to the 9^th Hells.”

“9^th Hells? Hold on. I thought there were only 7. What types of beings?” I asked rapid fire and then lowered my voice as if someone might overhear us. “Vampires?”  

At my questions, she gives another one of her beautifully throaty laughs. “Yes. They lied. Beings that no longer exist today.” Then she stepped closer and leveled me with a gaze that peered through to my soul. “Only with your permission. Blood never lies, and it is what ties us all together. Your allowing him to drink from you gives him permission unless you tell him ‘no’.” She gives me a warm smile and places a hand on my shoulder. “The fae no longer have the ability to access this plane anymore. They forfeited after the last great war.” She finished giving me a gentle squeeze and ushering me forward.

Shaped formed on the door’s surface the closer I came to it. Peacock feathers flanked a crystal ball with wavy lines flowing underneath it, giving off the impression of water. I smiled to myself as I placed my hand on the handle and 2 wolves howling flanked the wavy lines. Korbin. His house symbol. There was a great deal to unpack with that image. I file it away for later as I open the door and step through.

I blink as the light shifts, and I adjust to the scene before me. Gaia stands next to me as we take in the scene from the night I met Princess Kiera of the Water Court. We watch the earlier memory Kiera shared with me in the shop, which seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Can they hear us or know we are here?” I ask. Gia smiles at me.

“No, silly. This is your memory. A retelling of sorts. We can feel, see, hear, smell, and taste what’s happened to you, through Kiera, but it won’t change what happened.” I nod at her explanation and step closer to watch the scene.

A park.  No, not a park but a garden. A big one at that. The humidity hangs over us like a wet towel around our bare feet, sinking into the wet grass.  The stars were the only light that filtered through the trees and open air around my past self.  The pungent musk of roses and hydrangeas assaults our senses in the best possible way. Before us, the unbelievable sculpture of a woman bringing water to her mouth to drink.  The sculpture was completely done out of shrubbery, giving her long flowing hair and amazing features. 

We watch as voices draw my past self towards a gravelled sitting area among the Spanish moss that hung from a nearby arbor. Past Krystal ducks out of sight as she maneuvers closer to the action. She approaches the arbor as the murmuring voices become clearer; one of them was definitely the young fae from my shop.  Past Krystal pauses briefly as she listens to the other voice that was deeper, richer, and more insistent than hers.

 “Kiera, you knew what would happen if you followed me here,” the deeper voice whispered.  It was a low, steady humming, almost like the beat of the wings of a hummingbird.  My past self moved closer to see this stranger, crawling between two nearby shrubs for a better look. 

“Dacar, father knows what you have been doing. He sent me here to bring you back. He thought you would actually listen to me and come back willingly,” Kiera pleaded with her brother.  Dacar took his sister by the arms and looked at her sternly.  The conversation seemed to have been going on for a bit because he had a tired and worn-down look about his face. 

“Dacar, please,” Kiera whispered softly to him, his resolve seeming to falter.  He loved his sister and would do anything for her; that much was obvious by the smile spreading across his face as he looked at her. But he never got the chance to reply.   

“Dacar, your sister lies poorly,” announced another male’s voice. His voice was just as deep as Dacar’s, but it crept along my skin like spiders as it cut through the silence.  I had to fight not to rub my arms to remove the imaginary spiders. I knew it was a trick of his voice, just trying to scare Kiera, but what was scarier was I had not sensed his energy signature at all.

 He rose from his seat on the wooden bench and approached the siblings.  His movements were graceful and lithe but held a sense of menace and danger, almost like a tiger’s. I guess Dacar had sensed it too because he stepped in front of his sister to shield her from the stranger. 

Dacar’s facial features, pale skin, and platinum blonde hair were identical to his sister’s, with the exception of the broadness of his shoulders and obvious muscle mass.  She looked so tiny, peeking over his shoulder to look at the stranger.  Kiera and Dacar both wore bright blue colors, which clearly stated they were royals from the Fae Water Court. A lower court holding dominion over water. After spending time in Jona’s… company, I learned a little bit about the Fae’s hierarchy.

 “She is only lying because she knows that my father will accept me coming back on my own but if he has to come get me, there will be war,” Dacar defiantly informed the stranger as he turned to comfort his sister.  “Why did you come here by yourself, Naha?” he asks her, stroking away a loose strand of her hair.

“Father knows about him and your plans,” she announces, pointing to the stranger. He has already dispatched the Red Guard to find you,” the pleading look eliminated what remained of Dacar’s resolve.  “Please, come home with me, and father will have no choice but to accept you back. Please, Dacar, come home.” At the last plea, he smiled and nodded to his little sister, who smiled back up at him. 

“That’s a pity. I had such high hopes for you. Too bad you have outlived your usefulness,” the stranger says to Dacar as he cleans a bit of imaginary dirt from under his nails. Fae move quick but this stranger was quicker.  Dacar turns, sword drawn, as he pushes his sister back towards the gravelled path.  He shouts something at her in their language before Kiera regains her balance.  Silence follows the clank of Dacar’s sword hitting the ground. The stranger has Dacar’s back pressed against the front of his long red tunic. His eyes shone a bright blood red as his mouth opened, unhinging almost like a snake’s would before it ingests a meal that is too big to swallow. Fangs appear out of nowhere and easily rip the flesh away from Dacar’s alabaster skin.  One minute, Dacar struggles against the iron grip, and the next his body goes limp as he gurgles from the blood filling his mouth and pouring from the wound in his open throat. 

Kiera screams and runs as the stranger’s laugh taunts her.  Then, as suddenly as the scene had appeared, I was back in my shop, sitting there staring at my crystal ball.  Where I expect to see Kiera sitting across from me stares a red-headed man with a smirk playing across his lips.

“I don’t remember this part,” I mutter to myself.

“Vampires don’t play nice. This one is particularly nasty. He studies the dark arts, looking for something,” Gaia replies as we watch what unfolds.  

“Krystal, Krystal, Krystal, why don’t you tell me my fortune, hmmm?” Past Mallec taunts me in a sing-song voice.

“How? Where is Kiera?” My past self demands. I silently give myself a high five for my bravery. He is one scary piece of work.

“You are about to find out,” Past Mallec replies, blowing powder into Past Krystal’s face, and the lights go out.