Shattered Legacies: Book 1, Holo Change

💠Chapter 13: Deities and Donuts💠

That night's dream left Anna with a feeling of great disturbance. Feeling more uncomfortable than she could remember ever being. Uncomfortable in a way that wasn't physical. She shifted her body around, just so she could make sure nothing was holding her back. Like trying to break free, or remind herself that she was free, from whatever that was that grabbed her. And in addition to the paranoia that splattered her consciousness that morning, she also had a deeper sicker feeling. One that creeped up and made her flinch in disgust. Holding herself with a shake to move away whatever was causing it. She felt.. violated. Like something had tried to creep inside of her. Try to take what was left. To steal away her light and replace it was something slimy and cold. Something trying to use her in a way it had no right to. That's what the back of her mind said, anything. It was gross. And she didn't hesitate to take a shower to try and rid herself of the nasty feelings still lingering. Using lots of hot water, soap, and taking her time to allow the refreshing steam to waft around her. Drowning out the world with the sound of rushing water that battered her skin with heat. Soothing her jittering with burning droplets she so enjoyed. That welcomed her to forget. And for a moment, she did.

She forgot how real it all felt and focused on reasoning through the images and events, as if it were a puzzle. Waking up in some garden place with a statue of possibly the most enchanting woman she'd ever seen, watching her reflection, a door that had lights she still felt she needed to get to. Disappointed that she couldn't before she woke up. And hoping she'd see them next time. There was a lot of pain, then she was back at the walkway. She tried not to think about the shadow that fought with her guiding voice. And then she had to jump and was caught. Those were the cliff notes. And as always, she didn't know what to make of the dream even after running it through her mind. Not the first time, not the second time, not the third or fourth. It was like trying to through.. through.. her mind couldn't come up with anything this frustrating besides her state of being. But that was different. She could actually see or rather, feel that there was a meaning behind this dream. These dreams where she was on a walkway. Her time with the voice. Because she had regular dreams too. She'd had dreams about sitting outside, and suddenly there was a magic cat that read a book. Or dreams where she wasn't there at all, it was just a big mush of random things she was seeing and then hardly remembered afterwards. These were different. But even though she knew that, she couldn't see why. She was left in the dark to search and search and find no answer. Something that was unfortunately becoming the norm.

Taking a large inhale of the calming steam, she tried to let all thought escape her mind. Clearing it out so that she could enjoy a few moments of nothing but heat before she had to face the day. The next thing she had to learn was how the regular fighters did their job. The yellow coats. Which was part of why they were being trained. She just hoped she wasn't stuck with Christine. She had a yellow stripe, meaning she very well could be the one showing them how to properly fight and whatever else. The hot water rained down over her head, soaking her long pink hair that bled out a bit more of the color when she used the shampoo and conditioner given to her. Watching the color mix with the water and swirl down the drain as she rinsed her hair out, and tried to ignore the weight the water gave it making it harder to lift her head up. And question why her hair was this long for a moment. She turned to face the water, feeling the heat becoming less shocking to her skin, and placed her right arm under the strong current of the shower head with the other hand on the shoulder on question. Giving it a squeeze and moving it around to try and loosen it up. Her arm felt tired. Like she'd been waving it around like a madman for the past few days. A tight sort of ache. And made her not want to move it for a while because the tired feeling made it feel heavy. Which she didn't really understand, given she hadn't been doing anything strenuous. Yesterday's class was about blocking, but she hardly did anything.

It was confusing, a little annoying, but she wasn't too concerned about it. It didn't hurt. It was just tried. Oh well. With a sigh out through the enclosure of steam, Royanna stepped out of the shower. Stepping over the side of the tub, turning off the water, and using her towel to dry off. First her hair, since it was dripping all over the floor, then her body. She began to dress herself, slipping on a pair of shorts with a mauve twinge to the white, and a white tank with diagonal stripes of gray, then going to brush her hair. And as she stood in front of the mirror watching her reflection as she brushed through her long, now pastel pink hair, another moment from the dream entered her mind again. The moment in front of the statue's beautiful clear water. Specifically, how it had felt to look at her reflection in the water. That longing, and the way the voice spoke encouragement she so desperately wanted to believe. How the water flowed and didn't shy away from showing her appearance, or twist it as the mirror had before. Showing her a depiction of herself as she was, on the outside, whole. And centering her in a slow raising fearful sorrow and cautious blind hope. She remembered how she'd hoped that if she stared long enough, it would show her what she looked like inside. That maybe the mirror from before had been lying. Speaking to her as manifestation of her fear at the thought of being souless.