~15~
Gabriel wandered ina mist.It was a peaceful place, reminiscent of his boyhood when he’d go out on cool mornings before the sun rose high enough to burn off the fog.He’d wander the orchards, hills, or marshes, alone but for his thoughts, the early birdsong weaving with the peeping of frogs.Unseen, he’d felt safe in being unobserved.No one could chide him about doing his chores or, much later, look at him askance as his eyes blackened and his hair turned silver.
His thoughts tripped over that.How old was he?Then he shook the uncertainty away.It was restful in this place, and he was happy to be back in that place of no responsibility.
Except that something niggled at him.He kept feeling like he’d forgotten something, as if he’d misplaced a valuable he’d intended to keep safe.The unease prompted him to search the mist, for what, he couldn’t quite remember, the cloaking fog no longer restful.Thwarted by his inability to find his way, utterly depleted, he’d sleep for a while, enfolded by the once-again comforting fog, dreaming deeply of emerald eyes and fiery kisses.
Until the vague urgency spurred him to wakefulness.He was forgetting something, but what?Restless, he wandered through the mist again, searching with mounting frustration, until exhaustion claimed him, and he lay down on nothing to sleep.
At one point, he thought he heard someone calling him.He tried to follow the voice, feeling the warming of the cool mist, like the distant sun finally burning through.It must be summer, because he smelled roses.No—it was spring, because he was certain the blood poppies were in bloom.Perhaps he’d meant to find the meadow where the poppies bloomed.He’d certainly meant to show them to someone.Bloodred lips, magic as warm as a hearth in winter, eyes green as summer grass, an embrace lush as rose petals.
Love and loss intertwined, roses blooming crimson on black vines with piercing thorns.
You’re a good boy.The voice was comforting, reminding him of his great-grandmother, who’d passed long ago.You’re lost is all.
He was lost.Lost in the mist.And there was something wrong with that.
Forcing himself to move, he began searching again, blindly seeking that something.The ground squished beneath his feet, spongy with moisture.The peeping of frogs grew louder, the fog clearing to show a pond.Lily pads covered the surface, studded with blossoms of ethereal beauty, seeming to glow with their own light, ivory petals framing soft pink interiors that shaded into sunshine yellow at the tips.
A quiet splashing drew his attention to a tall, skinny-legged girl wading in the pond.Black hair tumbled long and tangled around her narrow frame, her brown eyes huge in her piquant face.She held a lily blossom in one hand and a bright-green frog in the other, and she regarded him solemnly.“I like the frogs just as much as the flowers,” she told him.“Is that contradictory of me?”
“No.”His voice was hoarse, almost soundless, as if he hadn’t spoken in a long time.“They’re both beautiful, just in different ways.”
Her somber face broke into a wide grin.“That’s what I think, too.”She looked around.“I think we’re not supposed to be here.This was a long time ago.Not today.Not real.”
He nodded, though he didn’t understand.“Where are we supposed to be?”
She frowned, then bent to ease the frog onto a lily pad.“That’s a fine question, but I really thought you’d know the answer, Gabriel.That’s a big brother’s job, you know.”
“Selly?”He should have recognized her right away, except… She was right that this was long ago.
She rolled her eyes, reminding him of someone else.“And here I thoughtIwas the crazy one.You really didn’t know who I was?”
“You’re not crazy,” he said, realizing she might not know.“You never were.You only lost your way for a while because you have magic like I do, only you’re a familiar, so you couldn’t release it on your own.It’s been building up inside you, clouding your mind.”He wasn’t sure how he knew all of that.When he tried to put context to that information, his thoughts slid away again.
She regarded him gravely.“That explains things, and it doesn’t.Still, I’d really like to not be crazy anymore.”She glanced around at the thick fog ringing the small pond.“Are we dead?”
Are we?“I don’t think so,” he ventured.“I don’t feel dead.”
“What does dead feel like, though?”she replied philosophically.“Maybe it’s like this.”
“A daunting thought.”
She shrugged.“Could be worse.”
You’re lost is all.“I don’t think we’re dead.I think we’re lost.”
“I’ve been here a long time, off and on.You only just arrived.Did you come to find me?”She looked suddenly sad and alone, heartbreakingly hopeful.
“I think so,” he said, because he couldn’t bear to tell her otherwise.
“I found this,” Selly said.She now held a rose, bloodred against the silvery-pale shimmers of the lily pond, vivid and full of fire.“It must be yours.”
Because she didn’t come to him, he waded into the pond, the water pouring into his boots.Instead of it being annoying, he found the cool wet refreshing, and he drank it in.The fog seemed to brighten, and he looked up to find a full moon shining bright, shedding its light upon them.Selly looked up, too, holding open one palm.“It feels good.”She extended the rose to him.“Is this what you were looking for?”
“Yes,” he said, suddenly quite certain of it.He took it, feeling better, more grounded all the time, and held out a hand.“Shall we go home?”
“I’d really like that.”Almost shyly, Selly laid her hand in his, also cool and wet, but he didn’t mind.In fact, she shimmered with silvery calm magic.