Immortal Memory (Iris' Atlantis 1)

22: Naked

Timothy

It could have been an odd dream. I came to myself in slow, floating softness when the last root connecting me to the overall ecosystem of the forest finally broke free. I was covered, head to toe, in a... fabric? It came off like wet autumn leaves when I rose to support myself in a sitting position against a tree trunk. I wiped the remaining pieces drowsily off my arms.

I hadn't yet opened my eyes, but the day was very clear against the closed lids. Carefully I peeled one lid open. I saw nothing but bright, shifting shapes everywhere. I closed the lid.

Then I sat a long while trying to gather thoughts like cobwebs afloat in a distant wind. I felt the trees around me. And spirits. Lots and lots of flowing, shifting spirits.

I was sitting on something cold and wet. And before long, the sensation grew so strong I had to open my eyes again.

The light attacked my retina in such a sharp sting that my vision was instantly covered in a film of tears. Light was everywhere. It shifted and moved and made me feel almost nauseous.

But I forced my eyes to stay open and find the familiar shapes meant for human vision. It was somewhat harder than I had expected. For some reason there was much spiritual activity around me. I could literally see the auras of every living being and some rocks intermingling with passing free spirits. Like so much luminous smoke, swirling all around.

It was hard to see past them, but after my eyes adjusted to being open, I could perceive the muddy patch of forest where I was currently standing. Snow was melting in patches, baring wet dirt and vegetation.

I was wet, muddy, cold and absolutely naked in the middle of possibly nowhere.

I drew in a breath. A second.

Air felt alien and cold in my lungs.

Everything I felt reminded me sharply of my last rebirth when I had unbecome a vampire. Just, this time, I didn't see the alchemist anywhere and no one was here to drag me home. I couldn't have said if I was standing in the same swamp or a different one.

On the surface of my thoughts floated some odd impressions of experiencing something important. Like a dream I had.

I tried to catch the dream to make sense of my surroundings, but all I could really remember was the red dust bursting from a packet.

Hellebore owed me forty thousand in cold cash.

A sound escaped my throat. It wasn't quite laughter. If I ever found my way back to civilization, I could maybe use half of the amount for hot chocolate at his tearoom.

My head still less than crystal clear, I started to search my surroundings for clues. Where should I start walking? I didn't find clues, just the remains of an old fireplace. Someone knew where I was. But the ashes were old and half buried under a patch of snow. There was nothing else here.

But I needed to move. My bare feet found the cold ground chilling. My bodily discomfort and a dripping nose were a sign I wasn't a vampire. So were cooling fingers. I had a body that could possibly catch a cold and was already chilled to the bone.

Yet, somehow I had ended up in a springtime forest. I had survived the explosion. But now I was cold and needed food and shelter.

I chose a direction where there seemed to be more bare ground and less snow and ice. Then I picked my way past and between white mounds.

There were no leaves in the trees, though some grasses had sprouted green. At length I stopped to wonder at the waking life around me. I couldn't help it. My senses were at least as sensitive as when I had indeed been a vampire. Everything was alive and busy. I could feel life itself buzzing around me, the auras of every living organism overwhelming my head that hadn't been too clear to start with.