ARRIVAL (ERA 1)

11 | the Wharf Tour

My eyes flutter open. I turn my head and my cheek finds misty blades of grass cool against my burning skin. The dew lets me know the hour is dawn. The forest around me is painted in the colors of morning, the edges blurred so all the colors bleed together. It is a familiar forest. It is a forest I know well.

My body feels numb, paralyzed, like I've been sleeping for centuries. My muscles spring to life at will, but it takes immeasurable effort just to lift the weight of my arm. I contract my elbow and bring my arm toward me. One hundred sparkles dance off the prism on my bracelet. It hangs loosely from my dainty wrist, just as it always did. I follow the dancing with my eyes –glittering over the meadow, up the trees, and into the sky.

My head is still flat against the grassy pillow, but for the toll taken on my body, my mind is blissfully at ease. There is an aura of overwhelming peace.

I turn my head to the other side. How quickly the forest shifted. The scorching sun and stagnant heat tell me it's midday now. My body is alert, my muscles screaming to be used. The sense of calm I felt just moments ago has dissipated, replaced by an odd burning feeling. This must be a dream. This is how time passes in a dream.

A musical rushing sound reminds me of the stream beyond the large oaks. Its whooshing water hums like whispers lost in the wind. I am called to them. My muscles take over.

The forest floor shifts again. All of the sudden I am standing, though I do not remember getting up. I walk past the two unfolded sleeping bags, step over a small backpack, and head for the water.

I reach the oak tree and extend my arm to touch it for balance. I notice my palms are scraped and bloodied –as if used to break a fall.

"Evelyn!"

My name is shouted far in the distance, across the forest meadow, beyond the campsite. Under the rising sun, a thin shadowed figure appears at the break in the forest. My gut churns and everything else falls into place.

"Evelyn!" They call again.

I ignore the voice and the swelling tears that blur my eyes. I have to remember why I'm here. What I came to do.

I turn quickly back to the oak, extending my arm once more. My heart pounds against my chest; the familiar burning sensation is back in my core. I close my eyes, bracing myself as my palm presses firmly against the trunk.

"Quiet or you will wake her. There. Set it down over there. Yes, there."

"I told you. Didn't I? I knew this was going to happen sooner or later. William, have you been keeping this from us?" A second voice urges.

"No!" William hisses. "I didn't know. It's never happened before, not while I have been with her. But it's nice to know what you think of me!" His voice is an angry whisper.

"Do you think it is finally starting?" Charlotte whispers.

"There's no way to know for sure," Nic says.

"She's not ready." William's voice is loud, urgent.

"That is not for us to decide, William. You know as well as I do."

I open my eyes and the room blurs. The nape of my neck feels prickly. Cautious eyes peer down at me. Charlotte, Nic, and William are crowded around the couch. I'm surrounded.

What do they mean ready? Ready for what?

What happened? Where was I?

For a brief moment I forget where I am. The room is spinning. I see a deep scrape stretching from my thigh to my knee. I must have fallen. The last thing I can remember is everything fading black and a low static sound.