A Touch Of Darkness

19 || Cracks

I'm back in the stream.

Water surrounds me. It is lower than before, barely reaching above my ankles as I take a tentative step into the murky darkness. The mountains are there. I sense them, their towering slopes rising high like crests of opposing waves. But I can't see them. I can't see anything, but I feel every particle of air as it collides with my skin.

Ducking, I grimace. It's heavy. It clings to me, thousands of leaden weights. Yet I have to keep moving. The water splashes up my legs as I force out a few hasty steps, then stop, hand clasped over my tightened chest. I can't breathe either.

This world seeks only to destroy me, and yet I cannot escape it. It is endless.

I fall to my knees. Oddly enough, the water is lighter to endure, lapping only gently over my legs. It is cool, too, beautifully cool. Reaching out, I submerge my hands within it, sighing at the icy hiss as the stream eats away the squirming heat within my bones.

It is the only sound, its echo slicing far and wide. Fear lances my spine as I jerk up. Someone will have heard.

Struggling against the air's protests, I climb to my feet, then take off running, every ragged breath shuddering my heart's beat faster. The stream shifts and writhes under my feet. It sends me skidding on, and yet in the same movement yanks away my strength.

I'm lost. The haze of darkness stretches on. I can't keep running forever.

Until I see her.

The water turns to ice, freezing my steps. It is really her, bright and shining, encased in a golden glow the sun could never compete with. The dark flees her touch. She moves slowly, but with confidence, as if she knows there is no need for haste. We have all the time in the world.

I don't share her patience. The world's weight forgotten, I dash forward, staggering into her circle of light. The water glints with crystalline clarity, its small ripples emulating from her steps picked out with ease.

Words lodge in my throat, but only silence emerges. She stands a child's pace away. All the colour this world has to offer has gathered in the gold of her hair, painted her eyes with the hues of a sky too clear for reality. Her outstretched hand closes the gap between us. She smiles, the action almost shy, as she dips her head. She has no reason to be modest. I long to tell her how beautiful she appears, yet my voice is stolen from me.

The air will not enter my lungs. This time, I don't mind, not when I have another force to breathe. My hand shakes as I offer it to her. It is bare, pale, almost white in comparison to her. That realisation should shove me backwards. I can't remember exactly why, so I stay.

She clasps my palm. I wait.

Her grip tightens. Electricity sparks over my fingertips, but it is static, burning, painful. Wrong. I pull at it, but I can't break away.

Let go, I will with all my heart where my voice fails. Please. It hurts.

My only answer is another agonising spike.

A cry finally bursts from my lips as I stumble away. She releases me, but the pain doesn't stop. I fall into the stream, shivering at its cold touch. When I press my hand into it, nothing changes.

The pain shoots up my arm. Pulling it close, I cradle it, my gasp falling soundless. Cracks weave up my skin. I know them, and yet at the same time they are foreign, blinding to look at, and so, so wrong. Such a harsh sensation should not appear so purely white.

Desperate, I look up at her, only to find her gone. The man I find in her place is enough to send another piercing wave singing through my veins.

Fiesi's eyes glow with all the light she held, but it is so much more intense, a weapon of its own to spear through my heart. His crooked smile widens as he tips his head sideways, observing me as I flinch back into the water.