It was coming to in the first few seconds that startled her. She could not tell if she were sleeping or waking. It was a grueling feeling, whatever she was entering into, a "caught-in-between" that made her heart beat faster….She was both intoxicated yet sobered….Twilight restless and dawn tired….Pain and pleasure, the "grey" in-between.
The first that came to her sight once she made her way passed the euphoria and terror, was highly ornamental reliefs and pylons, the fragrance of an air moving high in steepened ceilings that rose above her new "boudoir", and it was too ostentatious, too luxurious to be real. It was a palatial location she was inside of—That would only be fitting….She got up in a bed and hurried out of it.
Something lay long and heavy against the back of her shoulders—her hair she learned.
Silk scratched against her thighs.
The hexagonal tiles felt small and numerous against the bare soles of her feet, not cold, not hot, but perfectly warm….She pushed forward off the balls of her feet for the first time and fell, catching herself against a padded chair's curled armrest for support, though making a clamor….She gazed with startled eyes at her feet, then dropped her mouth open as she looked up at reaching ceilings above her in the current chamber, and the next to this one….Sunshine and flowers….The smell was overwhelming. "Hello," her voice was strange to try, the sound bizarre to hear, "….hello?" She pushed something out of her eyes, back behind her ear….Her brown hair again.
She pushed herself up off the armrest with its beautiful burls of golden, aged wood and straightened, "learning" her legs….She turned, looking down at her toes, and up along her shins to her knees, tan and golden brown, up her thighs….She was nude.
She turned, became dizzy, and grasped the back of the crowned chair's top.
Seeing the massive bed, she grabbed the top cover and pulled the silk blanket around her.
She started to make a circuit about the current room she was in, holding onto the blanket to hide her nakeness, attempting to use her befuddled mind and legs together while orienting herself to the new surroundings of her existence….Her gaze sought out a pair of tall doors, gilded with gold and silver-blue minerals….She approached it, padding softly over on the balls of her feet, hugging a knot of blanket between her breasts as she moved towards the doors, and as she moved closer, she could hear something stirring outside, "….Hello?"
She stumbled forward, tripping on the blanket caught by her toes and the ball of her foot, and reached to catch herself against the handle….It was large and ornate with berries and leaves….The door pushed open with her weight against it so suddenly.
Through the gap she peered through, catching onto the door which was heavy and controlling her slowing impetus forward, she saw something.…A creature, blacker than the shadows beyond, was running towards the opened gap….She gasped.
Pulling backwards with her hand tight on the handle, she slammed the door before whatever it was could enter, and she heard the thump and loud scratches of the creature on both the door's paneling and tiles outside.
The creature whined beyond the doors she held shut…."Trills and warbles" of an exotic nature….She released the handle and stepped backwards, making for a large doorway made of glass panes, leading out onto a balcony with access to the sky as the trills and warbles faded immediately….a knock replacing these upon the door she had closed, "….Isole?…." She spun back to the door as it opened, hearing the man's voice, letting the animal in ahead of him.
The black "hound" was caught by a golden hand—restraining the creature by a thick harness over its shoulders, narrow waist, and ridged back….She fell backwards, having fled on her heels and tripped once more on her blanket concealing her body….As the animal was dragged back to the doorway, rearing and trilling with whines as it looked from her with red eyes to the arm and the man restraining it, she stared at the face chastising the creature sternly with his voice and a violet skin under his throat, along the sides of his jaw, filling and shivering with his words….He forced the animal to sit back upon its elastic haunches.
"Ahmma," the creature whined at hearing its name again—two membranous-spans of skin rising from its neck to circumvent the sides and top of its head as it listened attentively, "….sit, stay down…." The animal dug in its hind claws into the tiles and lunged again towards her, and the strange golden-skinned man turned the animal out into the first room through the door they'd entered by, "….Stay!…." He made a unique trill from his chest, and the creature instantly settled its haunches on the outer floor tiles by the doorway, glancing eagerly in at the woman on the floor—in her mess of blanket and hair—that the man now turned to gaze upon, once he was assured his "pet" was obeying him.
He stepped towards her cautiously, holding his hand out to "stay" the animal sitting impatiently in the outer room….He was dressed in gold, green, and white garb over his body, legs, and arms, and at his hip was a scabbard with a long curving blade set inside it, its blue-silver metal visible through some of the stitched gaps of leather and steel….She was afraid of it, not having seen it before but aware it was a weapon.
Over his shoulder, opposite his hip with this severe blade, a long, golden cape trailed behind him, attached to which was a soft hood hiding most of his head, but not his face and jaw.
He was square of jaw with that unique outer layer of violet skin that sank into a "V" at his throat, and disappeared under his cape's cowl across his chest. His shoulders were wide underneath the fabric of silk clothing him, and tapering in folds to a broad sash about his waist, which let her see the triangular line of his body, bringing gaze to his hips….His hips and legs were covered in a loose, billowy cloth, the same as throughout the vestment he wore, and tapered to his ankles, his feet bearing soft, golden-leather boots….He gazed upon her with green eyes, eyes that stood out brighter with the gold of his face and the violet of his skin….The violet folds opened and fell to his jaw and throat with a seeming breath inward.
He grabbed the hood back from his head, exposing to her the smooth ribbing of prominences, smoothly-scaled, running from his brow to the top of his head, and that ended behind his skull, some joining to his thick neck….He was built well, and larger than life….for a drell.
He blinked several times, interrupting his stare at her.
He knelt down on one knee, "….I am Cassius," he offered his hand to her.
"Who am I?…." His golden eyeridge lifted subtly and fell.
"You don't know….who you are?"
"No, I don't….Who is….Isole?...Ahmma?"
"You are Isole….That wyrrtun is Ahmma," he withheld a concerned frown for worry it may vex her, "….Please, stand….You should sit in a chair, not on the floor…." He took her wrist and helped her up, looking her over as she rose, clutching the blanket over her front.
He wanted to inspect everything, to see if she was "exact"….but the distrustful expression on her face made him decide not to….His curiosity would have to wait.
"Maybe in time you will remember who you are….Are you hungry, thirsty?….You must wish to be clothed," he presumed through the way she tried to cover herself, and he released her wrist, "….I have a wardrobe for you over here," his face turned and he gestured with his arm to another open way that led to one more chamber in which, inset to the walls, at a corner, was the entrance to a wardrobe with two doors somewhat ajar.
"Why am I without clothes?"
"It is…." He was at a loss for words at the moment, "….It is the way you were," he hedged, "….I was told to find you here." He passed his hand to his face, and this hand fell to his chest's silks, "….I have no knowledge of you in this…." He would have said new form but he was unsure how she might take that, "….Do you wish to dress yourself?"
Her expression told him a definitive Yes.…He backed away swiftly and crossed into the next chamber, heading for the wardrobe where he opened its doors wider to let her see the clothes inside, lit by a shuttered window at the end of the long and private closet….He thrust his arms into it.
"At your leisure, Nefen Sousan-Shepard," and with that, he bowed graciously and left the rooms.
As the doors to the outer room closed behind him, she saw the animal, Ahmma, rise from its haunches and pad lightly after his boots.
Through another set of doors of that room, she saw them leaving, Ahmma turning its red eyes and black muzzle towards her before slinking out through the waiting doorway….The doors closed finally.
She looked down at herself….Who am I?….Where am I?
She gathered the silk blanket to herself and made her way to the wardrobe.
On her way through the next room, she slowed and stopped, seeing the view of a stunning horizon laid out for her eyes through yet another balcony with glass-paned doors open to the warm air.
A sprawling desert of elegant dunes wavered away from the outer wall of a city below her window-balcony, fields and plazas contained inside among the many lower buildings and cottuses, and to the left of her view were lazy, foam-crested waves languidly washing at the white sands of the sunny, misty shoreline….Far off in the distance, peaks of another city. She stared in awe.…The sky was dark blue, lightening to azure.
Her face turned towards the wardrobe and she walked in, heading to the shuttered window….She walked over the cooler tiles, long rungs holding many dresses and outfits in the darkened space.
Investigating the latches holding the shutters closed, she figured out how to disengage these from their button-holes, and opened the large frames. The shutter frames flowed inward at a breeze's push, and she guided them to the sides of the wall, then stepped towards the revealed view.
More city, this section wider and reaching to a desert separated by yet more wall, then right of the view, desert before a shelf of small, rocky cliffs at the border of arid, grassy plains lumping along the foothills of red and white mountains….She gazed out at this, then lowered her gaze to the streets and plazas contained by the walls below her window, small figures of folk and animals walking or running through the city….At least it is idyllic.
She stepped backwards from the window and looked up at the rungs laden with clothes, her blanket having pooled on the tiles by her feet.
She reached up and touched one outfit after another….Everything was dry, soft, clean, light….Beads and metallic threads, thin metal "coins" were sewn into designs along the borders and over the breadth of some outfits.
Her eyes took in all of the options….She dropped the last corner of her blanket from her skin.