Juliet's Surrender [Juliet's Tryst #2]

---DREAM 1---

Suffocation is the first feeling of waking in a dream is that is not your own. The dream body's skin tightens, immobilizing the victim. This exposes the mind to the perpetrator. Racing thoughts like snowflakes, ripe for the catching. The world becomes a watercolor blur. To any other human participant, it would be a cruel. It is a violation so basic it does not need higher level thought. Evolution does not guard aganst the hacking the nervous system. If it ever will.

The daeestra is synonymous with suffering. Longing so acute that the lungs collapse. Worry like the flapping wings of a hummingbird. A lesser goddess flaunting her power within the confines of a human frame and finding it to be lacking. It breaks. And heals, becoming no longer human. Capable of unspeakable power. Capable of defying inviolable laws of Earthen biology. To resist, to fight against Kyria seemed a noble pursuit. I'm a human, she kept thinking to herself. I'm above this. I'm different. Staring the force of nature in her jaw and seeing only hunger, Juliet finally laid down and offered her neck.

Mud squelches with each step she takes, a light rain of Kulon covering her naked body. The air is warm and sweet. Kulon rains happen in dense forests. The substance accumulates at the top of the leafed canopies, becoming too heavy to hold. To a Kyrion, these droplets only fall onto their spike and fall to the floor in many smaller droplets. On Juliet, these droplets pool and cling together, sliding down her. Kyria has no messages through it, she is not here.

It sits in the cover of a small grove of young trees and alien ferns, two eyes glowing a shade of yellow. It is humanoid, with large glinting spikes sprouting from its shoulders and back. She stops and stares, and realizes that the shape of the creature itself changes as it moves. It blends with the forest, the topography of the body changing to match each new piece of ground it covers. She should be afraid. It makes no noise as it crawls silently towards her. 

Dee avoided the subject of her true form. It has to feel right. There had been glimpses. Small spikes would sprout from her human skin when overwhelmed. The Kyrion form in the forest glints metallically. It captures the rare rays of light, flaunting danger. A creature as cruel as it is beautiful. Her legs moved under her, no form of higher level thought at play. The Kyrion, who for eons understood the death of their prey to be the ultimate victory. Her lungs burned immediately. Kulon stung in her eyes as she darted from tree to tree. It would be too late if she looked back. 

Cold metallic fingers (claws) wrapped around her ankle. She fell on her chest, arms splayed forward to grab onto anything to pull away, to start crawling. No air to scream. The creature began to drag her. Juliet grabbed at all sort of flora and fauna, each ripped plant an awful betrayal. Her arms and stomach accumulated welts. I'm gonna die. This is how I die. All consuming fear, all consuming need to survive. Vivid. Real. The Kyrion releases the ankle, and she sees long clawed feet gripping the mud. Millimeters from her nose.

"Please," she whispers, though she does not know why. The creature cannot understand her beyond her trembling form, beyond her soft flesh. She screams as she is dragged up by a fistful of hair to the creature's face. Two eyes, and a long smooth plate. A mask. Even here, denied a small part of the true form. Her mouth is open in silent pain as her scalp sears under her full weight. The creature forces her face upward and she feels as a row of jagged teeth sink in. The Kulon is salty. A wetness warmer than rain on her chest, and the burning of her eyes as she feels her life falter. A flicker. A silk robe falling to the floor. Dissappearing into the vastness of the ocean. Be still. Be still. Be still.

The purpose was only to introduce her to this form of communication. The unbearably sweet smell of her flesh made Dee lose control, so potent it was in the dream. She woke to her trembling fist clenching the air where her alara had been. Kyria had given her the best gift of all, a perfect mate. One who was ready for the truth.

Ke'astra did not comment on the scratches on the wall. The bed, broken beyond recognition. Her report was concise. Everything was ready for the first assault, a response to the flagrant attack on the castle. The heart of their modern human empire and key center for infrastructure. The Pentagon.