STRANDS OF TIME by B. Shane Kaylor Long had it been since the ground was soft or the sky held color. A black void stretched out so far above her head she could no longer discern the pastels and glinting starscapes that lie beyond, or the murky pinks and blues that swam and blended so swiftly through the mists. But she dreamt of them. A small, faint corner of her memories held those stars like yesterday. So long ago yesterday had been, like a dream or a distant, frail thought. A whisper that told her yes, it had once been there and yes, she’d once been a part of it all. As she gazed now toward the heavens searching for some recollection of her former life all she could see was a blanket of brooding dark clouds, seemingly symbolic of her current existence. There was so little she could remember of her former self, but fleeting glimpses and random fragments of what used to be, yet nothing solid or tangible for which she could cling to. The ground was her home now. The dank pits of crust and putrid rot were her only bed in a wasteland of tumbling rock, dotted by the ruins of some ancient, forgotten place. She hadn't deserved this. Trapped there like a prisoner, she roamed the rugged, barren wilderness and decaying graveyards of a long destroyed world, just barely able to survive the frightful, faceless creatures that prowled the shadows. She found shelter where she could and sustained herself by hunting what didn't hunt her. The once soft, cool blue of her flesh was dried and cracked and clouded now, much like her memories, from countless years of the soot and the grime and the wretchedness of this wasteland home, concealing her true beauty, and crowned by two deep and aching scars across the once majestic, emerald green arch of her back. She’d forgotten her voice long ago. There was a time when she’d listen to it, when she’d whisper and sing to herself softly, just to recall where she came from and promise herself that she’d not remain here forever. That sweet voice had been her only companion in such an empty, haunting place. But long ago that song had begun to sadden her. Lost was the comfort it had once provided and became more a reminder of the agony and emptiness that was this life. One particularly dark day while on her routine hunt for sustenance, a thorn stuck her foot causing her to fall. As she clambered to lift herself from the mud, she found that what she’d sprawled into was the rotting corpse of another. Not of her race she could clearly see, but still of her kind. His body had already been partially scavenged by the shadowed predators that haunted this place. The gaping, lifeless mouth held an expression that momentarily frightened her as the dreadful thought crept into her that his soul might still lay trapped within. But that fear quickly melted to longing and remorse as she stared into the large, deep black eyes which had only just begun to shrivel with the curse of death. Her thoughts roamed as she took in the sight, curious for what his name might have been and cursing fate for not allowing them to find one another sooner. She lay there for what seemed like hours, curled along his side the way a lover might, and stroking the grotesque face with her fingers, still able to see his beauty through all its decay. The bright red arch of his back told her he would have been an enemy to her race, but the tears that fell from her eyes to soften the pitted, leathery skin of his cheek told her he would have been gentle. At least they would have been together, and perhaps this smothering despair would have resembled something more bearable. Now she lay curled like the fetus in her lonesome bed, her thoughts still holding on to the memory of that face, still longing to know what his touch might have been like, how his song may have sounded. She waited for sleep to envelop her, hoping she would not have to wake to yet another day. Perhaps the beasts of the shadows would finally bless her too, she prayed. The suggestion was hardly foreign, for she’d long welcomed the thought of drifting into sleep and never being forced to wake once more to this nightmare that had somehow become her home. But as much as she longed for the sweet embrace of death, she could not deny the glimmer of hope that remained deep within her; that somehow, some way she would find another manner of escape. Sometime during that slumber the warm tingle of a touch stirred her awake. When her eyes parted to allow the light, her blurred vision slowly subsided to the most beautiful being she thought she’d ever seen. Majestic and seemingly glowing with life, his skin was brighter than hers and the arch of his back was a brilliant sapphire blue which reflected the light through his silver wings like millions of tiny prisms. ‘The silver wings’, she finally remembered. ‘Yes, wings… not scars’. Without a word he extended a hand to lift her from her slumber and they walked together for hours on end through the dirt and decay and languid, clinging air of that desolate place. No words were spoken between them for they were never needed. His smile and the warmth of his touch provided more comfort than she could ever possibly have wished for and with it, nothing of that place seemed quite so horrible anymore. They eventually came upon a clearing where before them sprawled the inviting waters of a glimmering pond. ‘Like a place from one of so many dreams’, she thought. Had this magic sprung to life with his presence, she could not help but wonder, or was she still dreaming? Together they slipped into the cool waters and she relaxed against him, basking in his strength and the safety of his presence as he bathed the years of dirt and loneliness from her aching flesh. Then, after what seemed like ages, they found their way from the pond and nestled together in the softness and warmth of some cozy little alcove, far from the dank pit that she’d long called her bed. She stayed there with him for hours, quietly enjoying his touch and his tenderness; his pure serenity. Never moving, never needing anything but him, as the hours became days and she secretly begged for this bliss to never end. She could actually feel the agonizing years of longing and loneliness being lifted like dead weight from her fragile heart. Her soul smiled at his very presence and a throbbing excitement passed through her, invigorating her as she allowed the heat of his love and his potency to encompass every fiber of her being. In the hours that followed they walked together a final time before he turned to her and smiled and with a gentle finger to lift her chin, his eyes said goodbye. She bowed her head against his kiss as her heart sank back into reality and her tears began to fall; for she knew in that instant they could never truly be together. The scars that had long since bound her to this dying world like the shackles of eternity, would forever keep her from knowing again any other place but this. And when finally she found the courage to lift her head, to let her eyes find him once more, the glint of his silver wings were all she could see against the murky darkness above. As quickly as he had come he was gone again, and the brooding black sky suddenly exploded, giving way to the pastels and vibrant blues and pinks that bled in through the heavenly mists. In that single moment all her memories of those ancient times came flooding back to her as she gazed into the swirling mists above, reminding her all too vividly of her fate. She recalled the arguments, the betrayal by all those whom she had trusted and loved so dearly, whom she had sworn her eternal life to serve and to defend, yet in her most desperate hour not one of them cared enough to stand in her own defense. She remembered the accusations against her innocence; saw the mighty hand of her elders that had torn her wings from her so brutally, so arrogantly and without regard, to cast her down into this wasteland. Once again she could feel the searing heat and the pain of it all as her freedom and her pride was torn from both her flesh and her soul. She’d never been given the chance to prove her innocence. The flooding sadness and torment of all those years passed came again in rushing, suffocating waves to envelop her once more, like demons pulling her down into the blackest abyss. She sank to her knees in an instant, crushed beneath the weight of that flood as she felt her heart sag and begin to die and the unbearable ache and torment of it escaped her breast through one last powerful, agonizing cry of her desperate song. *** As Days bled into weeks, she moved with the weight of his memory and the languished motion of the loneliness that had crept back into her bones. That and the distant warmth of his touch were her only companions now. She could not help but wonder for reasons why he had not tried to help her, to free her from her prison. Had he even known who she was or what her fate had been? She still could never let herself truly believe, even through all the endless tears she shed for him, that she would forever remain a prisoner of this world. Even in the final hours as she lie nearly motionless in the slimy pit of her bed, she still held strong to the hope that he would find some way to return for her. When at last her eyes fell closed for their final time, the only thing she could see was the memory of his beauty. When the flesh of her belly split wide to allow the shapeless, mucus-slathered bodies to slither from her and begin feeding from her near lifeless form, the only thing she could feel was the memory and the warmth and the gentleness of his touch, while the blues and pinks still bled through the mists of the sky far above – the sky that he’d disappeared into, cracking the darkness for his seeds to someday blossom and find their way back to him. ~END~