Bluejay: The Protégé of Black Canary

The Desert

I woke with a headache thrumming against my skull. I felt sweaty, dehydrated, and nauseous. My limbs ached and my throat was raw. To summarize everything, I felt like crap. I groaned and turned on my side, pressing my hands on my temples to try and stop the pain in my head.

I was about to drift off back to sleep when I noticed something soft and grainy stick against my cheek. I brushed it away with my hand and focused on falling back asleep. I had almost slipped away into unconsciousness before I realized: wait, this isn't my bed. My heart skipped a beat. My eyes flew open and I shot upwards. I whipped my head back and forth, frantically looking around me.

"Wha...?" I gasped as panic began to fill my system.

Where I should have seen my blue painted bedroom walls, I saw nothing but sand, and the setting sun in the distance. "Okay okay, maybe this is a dream." I said hysterically. But I wouldn't feel so crappy in a dream. I closed my eyes and rubbed them with my palm, but the desert was still there when I opened them again.

My stomach churned and I breathed heavily, my eyes wide in shock as my mind tried to wrap around the situation I was in. I clambered to my feet, but I stood up too fast. I felt light-headed and my vision went completely dark. My stomach flip-flopped and a wave of nausea crashed over me. My sore legs turned to jelly and gave out underneath me and I fell back on the sand. I rolled over on my side and dry heaved, but there was nothing in my stomach. I spat the bile from my mouth and fought to keep from blacking out.

I collapsed flat on my back and took deep breaths and tried to calm myself down. I don't know how well it was working. After a minute, my vision recovered. I sat up slower this time, and was determined to stay calm. An endless sea of sand stretched as far as I could see. Sand dunes piled out across the land, along with the occasional shrived tree poking out of the ground. I looked behind me to see a series of ranging, rocky walls about a mile or so away from where I had been laying.

My panic began to return again as questions resurfaced. What am I doing here? How did I get here? My head began to pound again. I grabbed my face, but was surprised to find something pressed to my face.

"Hmm?" I pulled my hands in surprise, but then noticed I was wearing a pair of black gloves.

I became more confused when I looked down and noticed what I was wearing. It was a tight, black and blue suit of some sort. I wore combat boots, with a holster strapped to my leg. A hood was tucked on my head as well. I pushed it back and pulled a sand crusted lock of hair over my shoulder.

That's weird. It was shorter than the last time I remembered, and instead of its regular dirty blonde color, it was a rich brown. I was suddenly even more alarmed. What am I wearing!? And why is my hair brown? Why do I feel like I just swallowed a cheese grater and ran a marathon? I put my head between my knees and swallowed gulps of air.

My head buzzed with a million different questions and my finger tapped against my skull: a nervous habit I'd developed. I waited for my hands to stop shaking and my heart to slow down. Something tugged at the back of my mind as the sun began to dip even further into the horizon. Shelter. You need to find shelter.

I sucked in another deep breath and managed to climb to my feet again without falling over. I checked my surroundings again. There really wasn't any other option besides that rocky wall of cliffs. I did my best to dust off the sand I was coated in and pushed back my knotted hair.

Despite my weakened state, I trudged towards the cliffs. As I traveled, I tried to come up with a reason as to why I was here, but I couldn't remember anything. It was like a chunk of my memories had just disappeared. Convenient, right?