For in that sleep of death... [Solo]

[Nidassasyae]

Fall 4

Her hands wound themselves in the thin blanket Zeal had carefully placed over her. The rough fabric stretched and strained as she struggled to escape. The blanket cocooned her, trapping her in a swathe of rough cloth. Nida wriggled in fear, trying to break free of her odd bonds. But the fabric held, moving with her body as she squirmed.

And suddenly it was not a square of blanket that was trapping her, but glistening strands of webbing. It wound itself around the Kelvic many times, binding her just as successfully as the blanket did. She felt her blood rush into her face and her hair lift off her neck. The webbing secured her to the ceiling of a dark cave, swaying gently as she writhed. The air smelled of cold things, of dead things. It was a windless breeze that danced before her, filling her nose with the stale scent of centuries.

Then they were ropes. Binding the Kelvic's wrists and ankles, the thick cords looped around her limbs in a complex pattern. Nida continued to try and squirm out of her bonds, her face white with fear. The rough rope scratched at her flesh, ripping her pale skin off her wrists. The Kelvic cried out in pain and fright, moving in ways that only increased the pain of the ropes. The bonds seemed to bite and tear at her, and as Nida blinked away her pain blurred vision, she realized that they were indeed biting at her.

The ropes reared up, swaying before her like charmed snakes. And as snakes they slithered up her arms, winding themselves around her neck and in her hair. She wanted to scratch at them, to throw them as far as she could, but her Dhani bondmate had nurtured within her a very healthy “respect” for snakes. She'd wait until the blighters were off of her, and then stomp the life out of them.

As if they could read her mind, the serpents tightened their hold around her, squeezing the breath from her body. Gone was the stale scent of the cave, and indeed all scents that Nida might once have been able to smell. Now she could only gasp for air as the snakes tightened their coils around her throat. Their emerald scales ground against each other with an excruciatingly loud shriek, akin to nails on a chalkboard. Nida wanted to cover her ears and scream, but her voice and arms failed her as she began to descend into blackness. Her lips were chapped and dusty in the bone dry cavern, red blood dripped steadily from her wrists, and her eyes were shut.

[Nidassasyae]

A coolness pressed onto her mouth, and the squeezing around her neck ceased. The strange pressure moved rhythmically against her lips, warming and pressing harder as the long moments dragged by. A strange weight found itself on Nida's chest, pushing her down to the floor, and pinning her arms to her sides. The fear that that momentarily eased –when the choking hold had loosened – grew, filling her gut with frozen fear even as she yielded to the kiss. Timidly and slowly, almost as if the action were against her will, the Kelvic's eyes fluttered open.

He filled her vision, this familiar stranger. Scaly fingers clutched at her wrists, pressing them against the floor. No two legs straddled her body, but a long and serpentine tail wrapped itself around her thighs and calves. The figure paused, the tip of its tail flicking amusedly as she took inventory of his form. Then suddenly his lips her on hers again, demanding, reassuring, taking her as his own. The fear melted and passion took its place, the Kelvic wanted him to take her.

As the thought passed through her hazy mind, the Dhani again paused. He lifted his face from hers, grinning down at Nida. Her body, trapped against the dusty stone, froze in shock. His eyes... those were not his eyes. This was indeed a stranger, not the familiar viper Dhani she had thought him to be.
His toothy grin widened and his grip on her tightened. The Dhani lowered himself back down, but now his teeth sought at her neck, while his scaled hands ripped through her travel-worn clothing. She wanted to scream, to cry out. This was no way to die.

Then the his weight against her body changed, it was leaden, immovable. The scent of stale breath and ale wafted from the stranger's body as he pushed her up against the wall. His shadow towered over her, swaying slightly from drink. She knew this man, from Zeltiva. This was the man that she had killed.
“Pretty little kitty,” he belched, pinning her to the wall with his hips as his hands sought out her flesh. “Pretty little kitty, has two eyes. Kitty took my eyes. I want them back, and more besides.” Now he turned, throwing her to the ground. She skidded along the rock, feeling as the surface scraped off her flesh. Then the weight was back, straddling her prone form. “Pretty little kitty, ready to die?”

She could not scream.

[Nidassasyae]

Then she was running through a field. It was unlike any field she had ever seen, golden in the red sunset. It rippled like an ocean, reminding her of some other place, some other time. The Kelvic stopped, trying to catch the elusive memory. Then her feet were pounding the earth once more, but she could not control them. She sprinted headlong into the snow, leaving bloody footprints behind her.

“Nida run! RUN!”

It was a familiar voice, high with youth and with fear. Her brother, trying to distract the slavers so his sisters could escape. Her sister fell, stumbling on a hidden rock. Her hand reached out, pleading to Nida. Begging for help. Help a sister should give.

But her feet would not let her stop, them propelled her forwards, past the pleading outstretched hand. Past the icicle rock, and the cave. Past their hideouts and favorite play spaces. Past the hunting grounds.

Past all logic and reason, Nida ran. She couldn't even remember what she was running from, yet she still ran. Her feet flew across the ground. The dream threw her across Taldera, Sylira, and the Sea of Grass. It propelled her above snow and gravel, and sent her skipping across lakes. Her breath came ragged, and she stumbled. The dirt gathered around her fallen form, building up and up. Grass grew as seeds were sown by the wind. Flowers sprouted, stretching towards the sky proudly, preening themselves and their bright petals. There were footsteps above her, and she screamed for them. For someone to help her, to get her out. The footsteps paused, thinking, wondering what the sound was. A root nudged Nida in the back, insisting that she vacate her spot so that its tree could grow tall and strong in her place. Digging took the place of footsteps, lifting her neighbors from their homes. The grass was thrown aside, to wither and die. The flowers uprooted, to face a world that cared nothing for such fragile beauty. And the tree plunged to its death, falling and cracking in half as it met once again with the hard earth. Nida mourned the loss of these lives, as she had never mourned the loss of any life before. They had belonged here, where she had not.

Hands burst through her ceiling of dirt, clutching at her. She screamed and writhed and bit, trying to wipe their violating touch from her body. But they persisted, grabbing her arms and lifting her skyward. Up and up she went, saying goodbye to the withered and twisted remains of her neighbors. The hands' grip was iron, never wavering in their task to pull her from her grave.

[Nidassasyae]

The air that touched her skin, the fresh air that she had longed for, was unsatisfying. The air smelled of cold things, of dead things. It was a windless breeze that danced before her, filling her nose with the stale scent of centuries. The hands that gripped her grew bigger, rougher, leathery with years and years of sea air. The scent of alcohol joined in with the stench of death.
“Hello, pretty kitty.”
There was nothing preventing Nida from screaming now.

---

Nida sat up, her eyes open but not seeing the world around her. The familiar comfort of the healer's tent, the potions and cots and bedding, they were lost on her. Her vision was still filled with the last few moments of her dream, replaying and replaying themselves. The blanket was gripped tightly in her hands, her knuckles were white as she clutched at it.

There was no Seliarus, no Zeal, to comfort her now. There was no one to guard her against the dreams.

So Nida lay back down, rubbed away the tears, and stared at the ceiling. The dreams were getting worse and worse, varying from the usual nightmares. At least those she understood, but these strange dreams... they scared her. The Kelvic lay on her back, teeth gritting against each other as she struggled not to rip off the blanket and try to run.

The Kelvic would not sleep, for she could not tell if nightmare would resume.

[FIN]