Dream of Reality
Chapter Six
by Makura Koneko
Salem, Massachusetts, 1691
Patience Smith sighed and rubbed her brow, and sat back on her heels. The fire was ready- it only needed to sit there for a while and, for lack of a better term, 'simmer.'
It would take the better half of a day, she knew. Once again she was glad for the convenience of time- for Seraphina, it would be barely a few minutes after she cut off the conversation with Patience before Patience would arrive with her remedy. For Patience, it had been a week since she had talked to her friend.
Patience Anne Smith was, by nature, a both fiery and impatient girl. Patience, her namesake, had not come naturally to her, but it was a trait she now found invaluable. It allowed to her gain a grip on her temper when, without it, she would most likely have a much harder life. It was also a trait that had cost her dearly before she'd learn to value it.
Shoving aside old, not of the pleasant, memories, Patience rose to her feet, wiping the sweat off her brow. She moving to the door between two of the only four windows in the single-room cabin on the edge of a small pond. She supposed she might as well use the next hours before the fire-remedy would be ready for something beneficial.
Patience spent the rest of the day weeding her vegetable garden, tending her herb patch, gathering the last of the season's berries and roots from a nearby area of the forest, and setting out said berries and roots to dry in the sun.
That done, she changed into her better dress, a simple dark brown and white smock and cap with serviceable shoes with buckles she had shined just yesterday and relatively new crimson wool shawl. A basket over her arm was filled with a weeks worth of dried herbs and berries and roots and packets of seeds. Stepping outside, she whistled a sweet tune and several large black birds and a few smaller ones swooped downs.
The crows and ravens landed in separate groups, and for the most part ignored one another.
Using a gift she had discovered long ago, using her mind and heart only, she conveyed strong desires rather than words and thoughts to the creatures, expressing her wish that they guard her home, and come to her at once should someone, anyone, approach the cabin or the fire left the hearth.
On the long walk to town, she let her thoughts wander.
She'd known Seraphina for the better part of the year. There were few things Patience knew for sure about the older woman- one, was that Seraphina was from the year 1504, from a place called Toirhart in England. Both were accomplished and knowledgable in arts similar to what someone of the ignorant would call 'magic.' Both didn't know how, exactly, they knew so much about the subject, and both had confessed that it seemed to be almost instinctual.
Two, both women agreed that they had met before. Not known each other perhaps, but known one another. They also agreed that they doubted they had been allies. Enemies? Patience doubted it, though Seraphina was inclined to believe the opposite.
As it was, Patience had no doubt that had they been born and met in the same time, they would have been rivals. Perhaps not enemies, exactly, but definitely adversaries. As it was, only their mutual, desperate desire one night to figure out what exactly had happened, what had allowed themselves to communicate through fire had kept them civil to one another.
They never did figure out exactly what had triggered the first connection, but they did figure out how to duplicate it, through directly a certain flavor of desire into a fire, one was able to mold the flame nearest the other person into a visual and audible portal. And, when need be, a transportational one.
The one personal thing Patience knew about Seraphina, aside from the more mundane details such as the fact her mother died in childbed (not uncommon) and she was an only child and had never married, was that Seraphina was not human.
Whether or not Seraphina knew this, Patience didn't know, for she had never asked nor let on she knew. Patience had often wondered if that was a mistake…
The moment Patience entered the town square, people began calling out greetings. It was market day, and many were out and about, even more so than usual due to the nearing of some holiday or other, family and friends making the innkeepers happy people.
Only a select few residents of Salem were aware of the fact that the reason for the steady increase of hate and suspicion and superstition towards one another for supposed 'witchcraft' was a result of a maliciously devious evil sprite whom had decided to make Salem his personal playground. All most people knew was that, for some reason, when Patience Smith came to town, people were suddenly happier. This was, of course, because Patience's entire reason for coming to Salem had been to investiage the death of her cousin in a mob. Her cousin, it seemed had been friends with a convicted 'witch' and had been stoned to death. Patience, rather than take her anger out on the townspeople, had evicted the sprite.
But not before, as it had many times previous, her temper had gotten the better of her one night admist taunts and mocking and fearful jabbing from witch-haters whom had recognized her alikeness to her cousin.
People had gotten hurt.
It had been that night Patience had decided to embrace her namesake, to finally fine tune the only leash she knew would keep her from loosing control like that again.
Setting aside those old thoughts, Patience fixed a polite smile on her face and made her way towards her usual stops, hoping the fire remedy would be ready by the time she got home.
Elizabeth drifted at the edge of wakefulness, not quite willing to return fully to the world of the waking. Then the pain would come. She didn't want to feel the pain- from either of the two sources.
But, despite her best efforts, she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that someone was watching her. And so, knowing that with this realization she would get no more sleep, she forced herself to the surface of reality, and drew one eye open.
She smiled despite herself at who sat there, sound asleep in a plush chair dragged to her bedside, his arms folded across his broad, muscled chest. His chin was lowered, locks of that fathomless black hair that had escaped the low ponytail at the nape of his neck fell forward over his lightly golden tanned face.
Deciding against waking the man that was as good as her older brother, Elizabeth rolled away from Darius Toirhart, wincing as she did so, but knowing at the same time that her physical pain was far less than it could have been.
But oh, how even that pain was so meaningless compared to the other pain that was once again stirring back to wakefulness within her.
He was gone.
She knew he was- as well as she knew her name, she knew he was gone. Oh, not physically gone. But he would never truly be hers again. Not since he had realized why, exactly, the fire had practically extinguished itself once Elizabeth had disappeared into the manor. Not since he had found out that no one, not even he himself whom had plunged his hands into the fire flaming off her body in an attempt to get her to the ground to roll out the fire, had even a scratch nor burn.
She buried herself down, down, down deep inside herself where even the pain of that knowledge couldn't find her. Curled up within her very soul of souls, she cried, fought the pain, fought the despair, clawed and kicked and bit at the loneliness. All these things that had been, for years, trying to gnaw holes in her heart through which to weave threads of bitterness and hate into her life.
And so she stood guard before that heart, desperately fending off the anguish as her physical coiled itself into a ball and cried, and cried and cried until she could cry no more, and her eyes, empty and tearbright, stared into nothingness.
Elizabeth clung to her heart. It was her lifeline. She dare not run any further into herself, lest she loose herself completely. But what other choice did she have? She couldn't face the wolves that were pain, loneliness, bitterness, hate and spitefulness that nipped at her heels even now. And so she clung to that golden light within herself that was her heart of hearts.
And as she clung to it, she began to sink…sink into it, the goldenness enveloping her like a warm embrace.
And suddenly she was inside- something grabbed at her heels, the very last tendril of herself before she was fully within wherever she was being pulled into. Suddenly she was somewhere else.
Suddenly she had a body, and as her dizziness and confusion cleared, she began to shiver with the dirtiness that seemed to penetrate every ounce of her being.
And then she heard a voice.
"Perfect," Patience murmured, as the final tendril of flame, guided by her coaxing, slipped down into the slender bottle. Quickly she dropped it into the padded basket, before it became to hot to hold. She'd have to create a spell, some day, to ward off a bottle becoming too hot to burn the holder. She made a mental note on that, then adjusted her cap, tightened her shawl around her and picked up the basket.
With one last glance around her to make sure nothing was out of place before she left, Patience let a droning murmur rise from her throat, to her lips, pouring from her lungs to wrap around each and ever lick of fire in the hearth. The fire climbed, grew, roared, and then finally bowed to her.
Smiling ever so slightly with smug satisfaction, Patience stepped into the fire, and entered a room that was undoubtedly of the medieval times. Lit only by the pale moonlight that filtered in through the open window, the place had an aura of fantasy that made Patience shiver with girlish delight.
She frowned- she had work to do. She shoved such childish thoughts aside, and looked around.
Asleep in the bed across the room was a golden haired, fair skinned beauty of a woman, despite the bandages still around her head. To her right, under the window, was a wooden desk with an oil lamp and basket with some bandages and clay and glass jars of poultices, salves, herbs, creams and other medicines. Many of which Patience recognized as her own.
Stepping closer to the bed, Patience examined the girl with a practiced eye. The poultices Patience had sent through the fire that first time a week ago had helped speed the healing, she noticed with satisfaction. Remembering that occasion, she remembered Seraphina and looked around, and frowned when she not find her.
She did, however, spot an Adonis of a man leaning in the doorway, his tall, powerful frame hidden in shadow. Lean but broad shouldered, muscles like that of a panther rippled under deep blue velvet finery. So deep a blue, she noticed, yet they were nothing to rival his eyes. Fathomless and almost catlike in their predatory gleam, they held a dangerous beauty. A god-like, finely chiseled, lightly golden tanned face framed by chin-length locks of blackest night, tamed by a cord at the nape of a powerful neck. A few tendrils escaped to brush his lips and chin.
Something deep inside her stirred.
The seeds of obsession? She examined the emotion closer as she and the man stared straight into one another's eyes.
No, not that.
….Affection?
Closer.
…Fear?
The tiniest bit, yes.
She frowned, eyes flickering.
Could it be…loyalty?
Yes! Her mind screamed, surprising herself. A fierce, deep, age old current of loyalty to something about that man. Not quite the man himself…or was it?
It was too faint, too old and tarnished to tell clearly, but it was there. For whatever reason, Patience would die for this man.
And, because of that, because she didn't know why, she instantly hated him.
"My name is Patience Smith," she declared with a stony defiance underlining her voice. She glared challenge. "I'm here to see Goodwoman Seraphina and tend to Gooddaughter Elizabeth."
The man glanced over her one more time, before pushing away from the doorframe and striding towards her, languidly, as if he owned the place and knew everything about her. Everything.
"My name is Darius Toirhart," he told her, and were she a lesser woman his mere voice would have made her melt. "Elizabeth is like my sister." He leaned closer, and that dangerous beauty she had identified in his eyes earlier intensified tenfold. "Fail to help her and you shall regret it." He straightened again, turned, and left. He paused in the doorway. "I will summon Sera. Stay put."
Patience stared after him, and forced herself to call upon her namesake and take a deep breath. She sat in a chair beside Elizabeth's bed, scowling.
In a few moments, despite her simmering temper, she found herself yawning, the bed beside her looking tempting. She fought with herself, continually, until eventually, she reasoned, she needed to be at her best to tend to Elizabeth, didn't she? Fire magic was tricky business…
She didn't notice the almost alien tint her reasoning had, and instead rolled onto the bed beside Elizabeth, stretched, and slipped into an unnatural sleep.
"She's here already?" Seraphina's eyes widened, and she turned from the stove as Darius entered the massive kitchens beneath the manor. Darius raised an eyebrow- he hadn't even said anything.
"Nevermind," she said, waving off his questions. His lips quirked in mild amusement. "She's with Elizabeth. I told her to stay put."
Seraphina snorted. "The day Patience Smith obeys anyone she doesn't want to will be the day the world ends." She said this with the utmost conviction, and wiggled out of her flour and egg stained apron, tossed it to a freckled scullery maid, bid farewell to the chefs she'd been assisting, and followed Darius up to the higher levels.
They came to the door of Elizabeth's room, and Seraphina came up short. Darius stopped, as well, looking at the blue-black haired, golden eyed woman.
"What is it?" He asked softly. Seraphina didn't reply, only closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. When she opened them, she gasped, and leaped forward, shoving the door open to slam against the stone walls. She stood, legs spread, horror on her face.
Darius ran in- he didn't have the magical sight that Sera did, but even he could sense the difference. The thickness of the air, the unlikeliness of finding Patience asleep, the black edge the moonlight seemed to have.
Fighting came naturally to him, and he fell into a predatorial stance, eyes shifting everywhere- only to land on Sera.
Seraphina eyes were wide, and a flicker of memory fed the tiny flame of fear that sparked inside her. She darted to the bed, grabbed Elizabeth's face in her own, forced the girl's unseeing cornflower blue eyes open, and stared straight into them. With a deep breath, she dived into Elizabeth's soul.
Serenity opened her eyes.
She smiled.
Three…now there were three…
What was this? A fourth? No, it was the one she'd sensed earlier… Not a Senshi, not her Senshi, but someone who called to her nonetheless.
Serenity sat up in bed, the moonlight washing over her features, illuminating her translucent skin and making her hair aglow.
Out of bed she slipped, padding softly on fairy feet to the window. With a whisper of power, a wisp of misty light, her nightgown was replaced by the gown of a queen, a gift, she faintly remembered. Her thoughts were elsewhere.
"Mama?" A soft voice, whispered, slightly unsure. Serenity turned from the window, a smile of an angel on her face.
"Sleep, lovey." She told her child. "Mama will be back in a little bit. Go back to sleep."
"You're going to go get Papa, aren't you?" The child said after a moment. Serenity was silent, her smile all the answer the little pink haired girl needed. The girl child smiled, and lay back down, snuggled deep into the quilts and pillows as she sank back into slumber.
Serenity raised her arms, and as if it were only a trick of the light and senses, the window seemed to gradually, and yet all at once, melt and flow into the form of a grand crystal balcony.
Softly, as if her feet hardly even touched the ground, she moved to the center of the balcony, arms still upraised as she twirled and danced and smiled and laughed.
The faster she twirled, the more opalescent colored glittery lights appeared, like powdered stars swirled around her until she was completely cocooned in a shell of stars.
And when the cocoon faded, shattered, broke and scattered away, like a butterfly she emerged with great translucent, wings far grander than any mythical creature ever known to man, colored every color of every dream.
She held out her hands, and in them formed an object wholly unearthly. At first it was a golden-tinged heart, then a deep two-tone deep gold and green rose, then a withering flame of living scarlet crystal. She raised it to her lips and kissed it sweetly, even as it continued to change between the three forms.
"I'm coming," she whispered, with a shimmer of light around her slender form, she took to the sky, a crystal of rainbows clutched to her bosom.
To Be Continued…
Well, sorry for taking so long! This is one of those fics that's impossible to write unless I'm in precisely the right mood. Does that make sense?
Anyways, as to the SM/X-Men Evo fanfic, perhaps I will, but as of the moment I've lost interest in X-Men Evo at the moment. If I ever pick up interest again, I will definitely consider an SM crossover.
Anyways, not to blow my own horn, but does that description of Darius not make you wanna just melt? I was! I need to go put myself in the freezer now so I can stop…Else I'm gonna soak through the carpet… ^_^;;;
Went rafting with my boyfriend last week…twas tres fun!
Wahoo, finally got a webcam! *cough* Just as a random side note. ^_^
Anyways, hope you enjoyed, pleeeeeease review- I think this fic is loosing steam… Oh well. Almost over. Couple more chapters to go and I'll wrap it up. I may take a break from the fanfiction world for a while…life is getting hectic. Taking on a few more classes this year, soooo… Yeah. Fun.
Neeways, until next time! Ja ne!
Hope Makes the Universe Shine,
Makura Koneko
*ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY*