I Have Felt Him Calling Me
The bottom of the ocean was white sand, tufts of seaweed growing here and there. There were also star-shaped orange-hued beings crawling across it, huge seashells glinting like pearls and pale amoebaes traveling near the bottom. A giant turtle swam upwards, and luminous fish of all imaginable colours inhabited the underwater world. Interestingly, the hue of the water was something between emerald green and gray, when it had looked turquoise observed from the surface.
*Can you feel my thoughts, Winski?*
Winski turned to look at Jelena, and nodded.
*I can... send like this if I choose to. But it costs me, makes me very tired afterwards.*
Winski took her hand and pressed his fingers on her lips to indicate that she didn't have to talk to him. They held each other's hands and moved along, the water hindering them but yet feeling somehow good, like a soft pillow.
Winski felt something he had felt perhaps a few times in his mortal life. Wide-eyed wonder. As a child perhaps... he had never thought much about his childhood, as it wasn't very pleasant. An intelligent boy, mostly ignored by his parents, ridiculed by his teacher, shunned by his peers. He had learned soon enough that it was better to close all treasured feelings deep in his heart, as they would be a handy tool for further ridicule aimed to bring him down by those who didn't share his intelligence and therefore wanted him to feel it was a fault.
He still remembered the watery, stupid and mean eyes of the stockier boys who tormented him, pushed and slapped him around, ripped his books. That they were many made them even worse than they were individually - they fed the disgusting cowardly glee in each other. They saw someone different, and wanted to break him, even though he posed no threat to them.
And his teacher, the tired, authoritarian mage who didn't want to hear questions he couldn't answer. If Winski found something fascinating out on his own, he would sneer and ridicule: "Do you really think you are something special? You think you would come up with something new when so many accomplished arcane spell casters have studied the Art?"
His first motivation in his dedication to the Art was to show the bullies. To walk to them, humble and small and non-threatening as always, and then rain lightning and fire on them, drain water from their bodies, watch them writhe in pain... but when he gained that kind of power his anger had already waned, and his motivation now was to find out as much as he could, perfect the craft, and bow to nothing but pure intellect, the application of the Art. But this attitude, sadly, left little room for innocent, vulnerable wonder.
A few things, however, had made him feel that helpless and yet wonderful awe - Sarevok, making love to Jelena - and the first time he was drunk. The alcohol had been like mother's embrace, soothing him and making him feel like there was no ache or hopelessness.
Winski shook his head and concentrated again on his surroundings. As they descended further to the depths of the ocean, the water took a murkier shade. Still it looked like it was oddly illuminated. They passed wrecked ships with the dreams of their crew long forgotten, the seaweed growing on them and the lifeforms of the ocean nibbling the flesh from the bones.
A shark approached, its mindless eyes and needle-sharp teeth making it look like a machine possessed by an aimlessly cruel spirit. Winski felt anxious, unable to cast spells and defenseless as he was. Never mind he was dead, he still didn't wish to be ripped apart by those teeth. But Jelena smiled at him and touched his arm. She stood for a while, her eyes closed, and Winski could feel a radiating sphere around them. The shark felt it too and swam away.
The lovers approached a whirlpool which, oddly enough, didn't pull them inside, just whirled there and glinted in the colours of the rainbow.
*It is the portal, Winski.*
They entered, and the whirlpool started to spiral them upwards. Winski felt dizzy and exhilarated at the same time. Suddenly he saw Jelena twitch and gasp, her face in considerable pain. He tightened his grip of her, anxious. She had closed her eyes and didn't send to him, and Winski was frantic.
Finally the water splashed, and they were on the top of the whirlpool, in a shining lake.
- "Jelena! What is it!" gasped Winski.
Jelena shook her head vigorously, still keeping her eyes closed. Winski pulled her with him, holding her hand, and steered her to the shore.
They sat there panting, their clothes dripping water, their skin smelling of salt and sand. Winski waited. Jelena seemed to be all right, and she would explain it to him, like she had explained so much else.
She opened her eyes which were wide and shocked.
- "It... it is Sarevok. I have felt him calling me... I didn't tell you because you have so much else to worry about... but he has been in a... bad place. I can't hear the words, but I can feel his emotions. He has fought despair, and drawn strength from me. He... hurts so much," she sobbed.
- "And now?" asked Winski, a knot of dread in his stomach.
- "It was... worse than ever before. The despair was getting him. He was about to let go. And I sent to him... his destiny is not over yet. I don't know what will happen, but he has a significant role in the future, I know that much. I don't know if he heard, or if he gained strength."
Jelena wept, more vulnerable than Winski had ever seen her in their afterlife. He held her gently, stroked his fingers through her hair. He pressed his lips on her soft cheek, and she responded by hugging him tightly.
They made love on the shore, tasting the salt and sand, comforting each other in their sorrow and worry of their son. Afterwards, hugging each other, they fell asleep curled next to each other, dreaming of a child with golden eyes.
