FATE\Deus Decipit

Chapter 54: Friend of a Friend

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Monica opened her eyes to a familiar sight: a sea of gold that glittered like the night sky. In spite of herself, she felt no panic, in part because she almost didn't recognize her surroundings. The sea that had been so chaotic before was now calm- not still, but calm. In her first visit, the sea was utterly tranquil, more like an undisturbed pond or bath than a true ocean. The second visit found it as a complete typhoon, a sea so powerful and corrupt that it nearly killed her. Now- now it was something between the two. She wasn't drifting through the water or being pulled to its icy depths, she was floating along a gentle current, the waves above massaging her chest and back with the pressure they imparted.

She wasn't scared, and neither was she surprised. No- more than anything else- she was curious: curious to see what had become of this place since she'd closed those cursed doors, and curious to see the consequences of her actions.

And so she pushed through the gentle waves to the surface, taking a deep breath- of clean, fresh, if slightly salty air. The sky was a beautiful shade of brilliant blue, the distant horizon touched with citrus orange like a sunrise too fantastical to ever exist in reality.

She silently wondered when she had last watched a sunrise.

But these thoughts were dwarfed by her desire to see that island, and, sure enough, there it was- far but not too far away. Under the light of the sapphire sky, the columns that decorated the island were each a lighthouse in and of themselves, their white-ivory reflecting the morning glow even over the shine of the golden sea. A light among light: her destination.

The swim to that island, though exhausting before, was more relaxing than anything else, and there were times when she could almost swear that the current was pushing her along to that island- it wasn't until she reached the bank that she began to feel anxious. Standing on the white-sand seafloor, her head and shoulders exposed to the crisp morning air, she remembered that she was naked.

Her previous foray to the shore was so rushed and desperate that she hardly considered her own nakedness for more than a moment; that environment was too harsh for anyone to live in, and there was almost certainly no one around. It was doubtful that she could even be seen through the thick rain and smog, and she had a damned good reason to be there besides that.

Here, that wasn't so. Whether it was someone on the island itself or on a boat nearby, she had neither cover nor excuse except that she assumed she was alone, and even then, how much of an excuse was that? These worries in mind, she scanned the island carefully, looking for any signs of inhabitants at all, and found none. No hut nor hovel, no circles in the sand, no sign of life at all except those columns- and even they, with their brilliance, had been eaten away at by the elements for what could only be a substantial period of time- decades if not centuries.

Anxiety and anger built pressure in her chest until finally escaping as a single, heartfelt sigh. Not because she couldn't decide what to do, but because her curiosity had already made the decision for her. And so, with as much faux confidence as she could muster, she waltzed out of the water and onto the banks, doing her very best to look like she belonged there even with no one around. But as the water fell from her body, it clung there, not to pull her back in, but to let her pull it away. The sea water that flowed off her body became still and opaque, before finally settling into what appeared to be silk, covering her body with a brilliant, golden gown.

Lost in awe, she spun and danced like a girl half her age, allowing the hems of the dress to skip across the white sand and gravel while she examined it with her eyes and body- the way it caressed her skin as she danced.

Being from a more wealthy family, she was no stranger to extravagance, especially in dress, but whereas the dresses her mother had often forced on her were so lavish that they could only be considered tacky, this dress was gorgeous in its understated modesty. Cut from a single cloth, its beauty came from the material it was made of and in the way it twirled around and fell from her figure. Tight in all the right places, but not so tight as to be restrictive, it clung to her body perfectly, even causing her to look slightly more adult with the way it hung just off her shoulders. In her mind, it was the pinnacle of beauty, and she couldn't bring herself to look away, or to do anything except wonder what she'd done to deserve something so perfect.