[Prose] A Scene

2009-05-11 @ 1:07 a.m.

The sunlight cut through the canopy of the trees, shafting down toward the soft green grass. A little yellow butterfly, yellow, indeed, as butter, glided through the clearing, drifting just above the golden tresses of a girl lying there on the grass.

Her eyes closed, she lay as if she had fallen from a height of some distance. Her veil was in disarray, her long lavender and white robes spread around her in a tangle, the improbably lengthy sleeves of her chemise twisted through the grass and flowers around her.

Moments passed, and finally, the girl faintly sighed, and her eyelids fluttered open. A gray-blue gaze wavered, and then widened as she rolled properly onto her back, putting one hand to her forehead and gazing up at the sky and the leaves of the trees that blurred and danced through her vision in the wind.

"Mhera."

The young man's voice came from somewhere near. She was too afraid to sit up.

"Mhera, open your eyes."

"They're open," she murmured, half in complaint, half in plea. "Where am I?"

"I don't know where we are. Are you alright? There's water here. I'll help you."

Slowly, Mhera pushed herself up. There he stood, a distance away, his light brown hair tousled. He was familiar to her, though his crisp scholar's robe was rumpled. He reached down and took hold of her wrist -- she couldn't grasp his hand through her trailing sleeves, which swept the ground. It was the way the novices of the Veils dressed. At home.

The boy helped her up and put an arm around her shoulders, steadying her. She was shaky, and when she looked around and realized she did not recognize a single sight, she felt the sudden urge to sob.

She strangled herself on the noise, but he heard.

"It's alright," he murmured.

"Where are we? Koreti, where are we? This isn't Karelin." Though her voice was as soft as it had ever been, just above a whisper, he could hear the panic riding just beneath the surface. It would well up and spill over with the slightest provocation. He knew her.

"It's alright. Come this way."

She walked with him trustingly and he guided her through the trees, which rose on either side of them like slender sentinels, watching their progress through the foreign landscape. She didn't realize she had heard the brook's whisper until they neared it and she saw it winding gently through the trees. The sunlight danced off its surface, diamond and peridot and aquamarine.

Koreti knelt at the edge of the brook, and Mhera did too. She struggled to right her clothing, hampered by her sleeves. They fell into the current and the brook toyed with them, playfully tugging the gauzy fabric along with the water. Mhera pulled her arms back.

He reached out stopped her, and then bent, cupping his hands together. He filled his hands with the cool water and lifted them up. Mhera met his gaze over his fingers, and then slowly bent to sip.

He couldn't contain his grin, wide and dimpled. She flushed brilliantly and accused him plaintively with her eyes, embarrassed.

"Better?"

"I ... don't know. Thank you. My head is ... Koreti --" Her voice quavered and broke.

"Shh. It's alright. I don't know either. But we're alive."