The 5th of Spring, 519 AV
11th Bell
11th Bell
There was this feeling of distress that crept up her spine and made her hairs stand on end as her eyes struggled to adjust against the bashing winds. Soon enough, she was able to properly feel the friction upon her skin and the buzzing, almost whistling, in her ears. Even with her stupor slowly fading, her mind would not, could not comprehend. It felt corporeal. It felt wrong.
She might have screamed at some point, but even that sound was quickly eaten by the wind. Each moment felt like a child's first memory only to be broken and eaten up by the next one. Whenever her arms would attempt movement away from her body, the wind would violently flail them before pushing them back. Her head did manage to turn towards the light, and for a moment there was some comfort. The feeling could not persist, as the next flailing of her arm put into perspective just how far away the lights of her home were. Too distant to soothe, and instead they only aggravated the feeling of abandonment that was growing from her chest. As her body dropped further down, the fall started to incorporate rotation. At first it felt mildly disorienting, but soon enough it was violent enough to cause her stomach to express itself – some she could brave back down, but parts still eluded her strength and escaped in a cough. Through all the nausea and tears, she thought she had caught a glimpse of water below, but there wasn't enough time to process the information.
CRASH
Her back immediately arched from the pain of contact. It felt almost as if a million tiny fists were pinching and scratching and punching and hurting all that they could touch. And the next moment, either from shock or overwhelming stimuli, was numb. She did not have the Kelwyn on her side, as her mouth opening to voice pain invited the cool pressure of water down her throat. As she half ate and half breathed the liquid, her lead limbs struggled to push themselves away from the depths and closer to the surface and light. A bitter thought occurred – this life, all her lives, were but the chasing of light and its reflection. As her arms moved coherently in a breaststroke, she felt dim. What little air had not been punched out of her was close to being completely consumed. The lack of practice made her movements unequal and the pronounced strength of her right arm had pushed her more to the side than upwards. Still, once her anchoring legs finally started kicking back the greedy water, she was on her way up. A moment ago she felt fulfilled, but shortly after the world was trying to crush her between the elements.
The first breath was too voracious, and it gulped down air and water in equal measure. Between the coughing and the loss of focus, her arms and legs started flailing again much in the same way they did in the air, but slower. As the movements of her lungs could finally be called breathing, the rest of her became coordinated and paddled in unison. Her illusion of deliverance broke with the sound of rapids, but stronger, louder. The unmistakable proximity of a waterfall drove her to grab towards the nearby shore. Thinking of it, this body of water wasn't very large. It must have taken all of her luck simply to avoid crashing on the rock. No wonder the twins weren't with her, they had better things to do.
Her movements were taking her forward with the same certainty that the current used to pull her to the right. Doing her best to counter the rightward drift, she started using her right arm more in hopes of pushing herself to the left. Some of her muscles ached due to her abrupt landing and some chose to object their repeated use, but regardless of the motivation, they were all in agreement. Just as she felt her strength failing her, she was able to get within reach of shore. Taken in by the greed of water, she too overreached. As her hand slid back down the bank towards an unnatural handhold, it scraped against the stone producing a new note of pain to break the established tempo. One was soon followed by another, and with what felt like the strength of ten men, she slowly slid her body up the shore and onto solid ground.
Without the noise of swimming, she could finally judge her breath for the gasping mess it was. Rolling onto her back, she let her left hand rest on her chest and appreciate the rhythm returning to it. The other hand kept touching against the earth, making sure they weren't to sink again. It finally clasped around a soft, familiar object. As she brought it closer to her face, she remembered another woman and another prayer.