Lost Sands

Chapter 4

She awoke abruptly, the couch damp with sweat.

Another nightmare, though she couldn't remember it, she was left with a cold sense of terror, which led her to be a little bit less inclined to go to sleep again.

She'd been getting used to it. The past days have been mostly sleepless, and any sleep she was able to get was consistently interrupted by haunting dreams. She could never remember them when she awoke, but when her eyes met the red ink on the ground, she felt a chilling sense of familiarity and a sense of longing that disgusted her.

She had never been able to remember her dreams, she would always be able to know the general feeling of the dream, but never quite know the entire scene.

She got up, and noticed that the sky was beginning to brighten through the clouds, she also noticed that the small bag was gone. Which meant that Mittens had left too.

She was alone, the house was silent and beginning to suffocate her. She had to get out.

With her circumstances, she couldn't quite leave the house in the light, and being in a desert climate, this was really inconvenient for her. Where she grew up, it was a rarity to see the sun, the freezing mountains leaving only snow and overcast skies over her home.

She smiled, her father had been a trader, he had taken her to learn to hunt, and she had taken to it as a bird took to the sky. Those memories shone brightly in her mind, that part of her childhood was her favourite. Her father's business had actually led to her meeting the love of her life.

It was a cold night, and Tempera was walking through the snowy expanse, just about to reach her destination. The light coming from the cabin ahead was warm and welcoming. After traveling for hours, she would've loved to see nothing else. As she approached a figure exited the home, waving her over excitedly.

She quickened her pace, seeking out the warmth and shelter that not only the cabin would offer, but the people waiting within it.

As she speed-walked to the cabin, the girl that had been previously waving at her suddenly broke into a full sprint, directly for Tempera. She caught her in her arms, stumbling back slightly due to the force of her embrace. Although she was winded from that encounter, she could feel the gentle warmth emanating from the other's body. She smiled at Tempera, a flurry of emotions flying behind her eyes.

''Hey, come inside for a bit, this cold's gonna kill ya one day.''

Tempera took her hand in hers and walked towards the cabin, their comfortable silence broken by the crunching of snow under their feet.

They reached the cabin, smelling a generous meal being cooked for them, and as she walked through the door, putting her large sack on the floor she was greeted by -

A bang, as well as a stab of pain in her knees and elbow.

She was shaking all over, daydreaming like that was something she hadn't done since she was young.

That's all it was, was a daydream, that's all it ever will be, a memory that can never be revisited once again.

She began to cry, the guilt rising in her lungs like water. She was drowning in it. Unsure if she would ever surface.

---

It was a lukewarm night, the air smelling faintly of burned cedarwood, as Tempera came to her senses, she found she was sprawled across the floor, her dress scuffed and her elbows sore. And her head, her head was pounding, sending waves of pain across her skull. She sat up, eyes closed, cradling her head in her hands, hoping she could will the pain away.

Her mind cleared, and a feeling of dread washed over her, from her years as a huntress she recognized the smell, the smell of death. In a half-second, she was on her feet. Looking for the source. The only one that had been home with her was her wife.

She stalked towards what she could best assume the smell was emanating from, the kitchen. When she finally reached it, her fear climbed with every step, making the few seconds that it took her to reach the silent room feel like hours stalking by, haunting her with the truth she was denying.

Her mind must've already pieced together what had happened because while she was in shock she was not surprised.

Her wife's body lay on the ground, motionless, the sight made her vomit. Her thin white nightgown was nothing of what it used to be, a deep scarlet spread through it, and a wound in her neck spilling blood across the previously cleaned floors, her eyes were still open, giving her features a more ghastly look.

Across her arms and legs were scratches and bruises, deep cuts showing the brutal treatment she'd received shortly before her death.

Tempera's mind was empty, any thought she tried to complete was slowly silenced by the weight of the sight before her. despite the pain in her joints and body, she could not help but stand and stare, unmoving, hoping that if she stayed long enough she would awake, tell her it was just a trick, albeit a mean one, and pull her into her arms. Her wife had always been a performer after all.

She sat there for hours, real ones, as she could vaguely notice the candles burning out and the room going dark.

It took everything within her to move, her joints were stiff her muscles sore, but she walked away, to their shared room, plucking a light blue dress from the closet.

She closed her eyes and dressed her wife, cleaning the blood off her. She was slow, her hands barely functioning with all their shaking, had the situation been less dire Tempera would've joked with her, 'how could I have ever caught anything with hands like these?'.

She would've said something clever back, surely.

The sky was overcast when dawn approached, the sky was dark, and matched the mood surrounding the house. How disgusting, Alice wanted to go out peacefully, it should've been a sunny day, it should have been happy. She wanted to die as she lived but instead it's this depravity.

The inkling of rage bubbling in her died out as she focused on what she had to do. Setting her against a tree they had managed to grow together, she grabbed a shovel and got to work, the clouds threatening rain.

She laid her to rest softly, and although she was mostly cleaned up, the injuries plaguing her were still plainly visible in the dim light.

Tempera tried not to look as the sand and dirt covered her love.

She planted sunflowers where Alice lay, she always loved them, and the rain to come could seed the hope that she had gone to a better place. Somewhere far away from this pain.

She walked into her house and poured herself a glass of wine, not bothering to clean herself or the house up. However, as it filled up halfway, she decided against it and simply took the entire bottle.

She drank her sorrows that night.