[Flashback] The 46th of Winter

[Laszlo]

Winter 46th, 509AV Late morning. It was cold when I opened my eyes again. Shapeless masses of color bled together, deep browns with minor areas of white and gold. My sight was blurred, but it was meaningless. Why would I need vision? What would I need to see? My eyelids rested heavily back together, but there was still a sliver of light beneath the shadow of my eyelashes. So badly did I long to return to the weightlessness of sleep. To be awake, to be here at all, was an affront to every sense I was not supposed to have. The scent of salt and charred meat overpowered the gentle fragrance of washed linen. The acrid stink of cooking food was sharp in the air, disturbing because it reminded me that I was breathing. The thought of it, and the notion of eating anything, made my stomach tighten unpleasantly. Almost on their own, my muscles experimentally tugged, and my body shifted. I could feel the warm whisper of soft linen upon my skin, and the gentle embrace of a mattress beneath my weight. The strip of light in my eyes widened, but I chose only to focus on the bed that held me. It was difficult to move, but I realized that I was also under heavy wool blanket, topped by a quilt also made of linen. Although I could feel the warmth and softness that surrounded me, soothing me, a sickly chill still remained with me. It felt as if it clung to my very bones. I swallowed, and my tongue pressed against the roof of my mouth. When it came away, it tasted of old blood and seawater. My lips parted. A cold ribbon of air was warmed by the back of my throat as it filled my lungs. There was a crackling fire—the stove nearby. The source of cooking food. Against the silence, the fire chattered to itself, licking upward from a bed of coals to split blocks of wood. I couldn't see it, but hearing it was enough. I could imagine. And there was a woman's voice, humming cheerfully, but out of tune. For a long while, I laid there silently, listening, feeling the signs of the world that existed around me. I couldn't understand why it was here. I was in a bed, in a room, by a fire, but this wasn't where I belonged. How did I get here? How long had I been here? Syna… I couldn't hear her voice, or the voice of my kin. Where I recalled something like a sweet harmony, there was only this disjointed cacophony of idle sounds. What had happened, between then and now? I tried to remember. The strip of light disappeared. Water. I could see it spreading out beneath me, on and on and on. It was far, far down. I was falling out of the air toward it. I gasped. The humming stopped. There was a question directed at me, but I wasn't listening. The sound of air whistling past my ears was painfully cut away, replaced by the gurgling struggle of limbs batting through the water. It was freezing to the point of pain, and all at once it felt as if my skin was burning. Only, the chill drove through me like a steel blade, and I could physically feel my life draining away by the minute. My voice breached, but escaped my mouth a futile hail of bubbles. Syna's light was above me, past the churning lens of the sea around me. I reached for it, clawing my way up to break through the water again. The cold air was worse, torturing my wet skin and pulling the warmth from my body. I screamed, in confusion and pain and fear, but fell under the waves again and choked on water. My fear evolved into a frenzied panic. My limbs were moving on their own, kicking and clawing to keep me at the water's surface. As I gasped for air, I blinked the water from my stinging eyes and searched for something—anything to help me. Far, far ahead of me, there was a lazy silhouette of that lay across the water and rose into the sky with blocky shapes. I recognized the shape to be a city, civilization. Without a shadow of doubt I knew that it was my salvation, but it was so far away. Fatigue had already begun to settle in my aching limbs and I could almost feel the wicked, black pull of my death. I could not stay treading water for long, and my heart would not keep beating if my body grew cold. I could feel it beginning to swallow me as I began to slip, little by little, into its gaping maw. My panic mounted, turning to dread. I wasn't supposed to be alive, but I didn't want to die. I knew that I would. The shore was too far. I would not be able to reach it before the exhaustion overtook me. Still, I swam. With every ounce of strength, I fought to keep myself alive. This tiny body, a fleck of refuse in the open sea, fought to pull itself through the water, thrashing and struggling to escape the grip of Laviku. My eyes fell beneath the water, and again I was blinded. I kicked and threw myself into the air again. I gasped, then sobbed, then swam again. I could no longer feel my hands, or the lower parts of my legs. The waves kept pushing into my face, invading my mouth and polluting my eyes, but I couldn't stop. To stop fighting was to invite my death. The city on the horizon sat waiting for me. The light of Syna beamed down on it like a beacon. Though it grew brighter before me, my vision became darker. My aching limbs slowed. The freezing water no longer felt so cold. It was soft, inviting, understanding. It could pull this body into its bosom, where it could rest. My dread began to dissipate. "Hello? I said, are you awake?" I gasped again, opening my eyes. I felt a warm tear roll off the bridge of my nose. A bright young face, framed by golden hair that shone radiantly in the window's light, hovered in my view. I looked into her brown eyes wordlessly. I didn't know who she was, but she looked concerned. "I'm Raelynn. You're safe now."