Chapter Six: A Baby With a Torch
She frolicked on a leaf-strewn forest path, not caring that she did not know how she had gotten here or that the trees were of a type she had never seen before. When she came to a clearing, she found herself wondering why all paths in the woods led to a "clearing." She knew then that this was a dream. Her dreams always seemed to lead her to these mysterious clearings in which strange things happened.
When she stopped wondering, she discovered that she was not alone. In the center stood the same elf that had met her last night and brought her father out of his sickness--well, He had brought her father back from the abyss of death, if only for a short time. He was still living, and even relatively healthy in that he could walk the short distance down to the beach and back to the house.
"Why are you here?" she asked, wary and seeming to remember something about Him needing to change something about her.
"I am sorry, Daughter, but I must hide your powers from you. It is too dangerous for you to be wandering with all of this energy pent up within you, waiting for the slightest emotional outburst to get free."
"If I don't have the power, how am I supposed to learn to use it so it doesn't harm me?" she asked, slightly indignant that He had just called her, essentially, a child with a torch.
He sighed. "You will learn to control it bit by bit, but through experiences that you haven't yet had."
When she opened her mouth to say something, He raised His hand, stopping her tongue in her mouth. His eyes flashed with power, and she felt very strange...It was almost as though she had forgotten what she was about to say, but it went deeper than that. It was as if she had forgotten a part of herself that she had always had, even if it was just beyond her reach.
"You will dream no more of me," He said, but now she could no longer see Him and His voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. "You will not see me again until you have come home."
Then, like she had been shoved in the chest by a very powerful hand, she was hurtled out of the dream world.
She tried her best to remember what had happened in the dream, but could not, and so she fell back into a deep sleep.
**
Arianne was furious. Her husband was dying and there was nothing she could do about it, and to top it all off, Y'lorani and Jack had both KNOWN that he was going to die and had not told her! How dared they keep something like that a secret from her? She felt as though she was losing everything she had held dear. First, the elves that had come back from the cursed isle they had lived on for centuries had started to move away and start new lives for themselves, then Reanna had started to grow away from her as she had grown up, and now...now the man she loved with all of her heart was going to die.
She knew she was beginning to go mad, but could find no way out of the downward spiral. The only thing that had helped her feel better since Reanna had begun to become a woman was to drink a bit (a bit? closer to a gallon, really...) of whiskey per day. It wasn't Jack's preferred beverage, she knew, and she knew also that he would definitely disapprove of her drinking it alone, but she did it all the same. Her life was beginning to unravel, and the only thing that could keep the utter madness away was her whiskey.
She dropped her head on the kitchen table, barely feeling it as her forehead thudded into hard wood. Why was all of this happening now? She had been so happy for the first eleven years of Reanna's life.
It was Reanna's fault, came a sneaking thought into her mind. If Reanna hadn't "made" those fires happen, if Reanna hadn't been born, if Reanna wasn't so damnably beautiful...
Arianne stopped those thoughts with another swig of whiskey. It wasn't Reanna's fault, and Arianne knew it. Reanna hadn't meant to start those fires, Haramel had only been trying to teach her how to light a candle with her mind.
She closed her eyes, reliving the memory...
"Now," Haramel instructed, "think very hard about a small flame, and when you have the image in your mind, I want you to 'project' that image onto the candle wick."
Reanna, a girl with merely nine years of age to her, had nodded and closed her eyes, apparently doing what Haramel had told her to. Something had gone wrong, though, because when Reanna had projected her mental image, the trees around them had caught fire as well as the candle wick--which was flaring more than any candle should.
Haramel had hurried to get a frightened and teary-eyed Reanna out of the flaming copse of palm trees. Immediately all of the elves and Arianne had been gathered together and called up rain clouds to put out the fire, leaving a very distraught Reanna sitting off to the side safely away from the flames.
Haramel, as well as the other elves, had tried several times to train Reanna properly in calling a flame to a candle, but the results were always the same, no matter how much Reanna protested that she had done exactly as she had been told.
Eventually, the project had been abandoned.
If only Reanna weren't so powerful, Arianne mused as she came out of the memory. She believed that Reanna had only envisioned a tiny flame, but the fire had heard her call and had roared to do her bidding--even if she hadn't actually bid the fire to do harm to anything surrounding her.
Reanna steadfastly avoided the subject of fire, and had never since had any freak conflagrations happened. Poor Reanna blamed herself, but Arianne knew that it really wasn't the girl's fault.
She didn't know who to blame other than herself, and so she did so heartily, drowning the shame of being jealous of her more beautiful, more talented and more powerful daughter in whiskey.
Gods, she thought blearily when the tankard had been emptied several times. Her husband was dying, her daughter was better than she was, and her life was falling apart around her, but now she wasn't angry, or even the slightest bit annoyed.
No, she was far too drunk for that.
She laughed, instead, the laughter echoing through the empty kitchen. Then she cried, feeling more alone than she ever had in her long life.
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Ah, how the mighty have fallen...Jack dying, Arianne drinking herself into a stupor...how Fate swallows lives! Tune in next time to see what happens next in...Reanna! Also, I know I've been posting a ton lately, but I warn you all that it may not last. It MIGHT go back to being a week before I can get the next chapter written, so enjoy this while it lasts!
She frolicked on a leaf-strewn forest path, not caring that she did not know how she had gotten here or that the trees were of a type she had never seen before. When she came to a clearing, she found herself wondering why all paths in the woods led to a "clearing." She knew then that this was a dream. Her dreams always seemed to lead her to these mysterious clearings in which strange things happened.
When she stopped wondering, she discovered that she was not alone. In the center stood the same elf that had met her last night and brought her father out of his sickness--well, He had brought her father back from the abyss of death, if only for a short time. He was still living, and even relatively healthy in that he could walk the short distance down to the beach and back to the house.
"Why are you here?" she asked, wary and seeming to remember something about Him needing to change something about her.
"I am sorry, Daughter, but I must hide your powers from you. It is too dangerous for you to be wandering with all of this energy pent up within you, waiting for the slightest emotional outburst to get free."
"If I don't have the power, how am I supposed to learn to use it so it doesn't harm me?" she asked, slightly indignant that He had just called her, essentially, a child with a torch.
He sighed. "You will learn to control it bit by bit, but through experiences that you haven't yet had."
When she opened her mouth to say something, He raised His hand, stopping her tongue in her mouth. His eyes flashed with power, and she felt very strange...It was almost as though she had forgotten what she was about to say, but it went deeper than that. It was as if she had forgotten a part of herself that she had always had, even if it was just beyond her reach.
"You will dream no more of me," He said, but now she could no longer see Him and His voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. "You will not see me again until you have come home."
Then, like she had been shoved in the chest by a very powerful hand, she was hurtled out of the dream world.
She tried her best to remember what had happened in the dream, but could not, and so she fell back into a deep sleep.
**
Arianne was furious. Her husband was dying and there was nothing she could do about it, and to top it all off, Y'lorani and Jack had both KNOWN that he was going to die and had not told her! How dared they keep something like that a secret from her? She felt as though she was losing everything she had held dear. First, the elves that had come back from the cursed isle they had lived on for centuries had started to move away and start new lives for themselves, then Reanna had started to grow away from her as she had grown up, and now...now the man she loved with all of her heart was going to die.
She knew she was beginning to go mad, but could find no way out of the downward spiral. The only thing that had helped her feel better since Reanna had begun to become a woman was to drink a bit (a bit? closer to a gallon, really...) of whiskey per day. It wasn't Jack's preferred beverage, she knew, and she knew also that he would definitely disapprove of her drinking it alone, but she did it all the same. Her life was beginning to unravel, and the only thing that could keep the utter madness away was her whiskey.
She dropped her head on the kitchen table, barely feeling it as her forehead thudded into hard wood. Why was all of this happening now? She had been so happy for the first eleven years of Reanna's life.
It was Reanna's fault, came a sneaking thought into her mind. If Reanna hadn't "made" those fires happen, if Reanna hadn't been born, if Reanna wasn't so damnably beautiful...
Arianne stopped those thoughts with another swig of whiskey. It wasn't Reanna's fault, and Arianne knew it. Reanna hadn't meant to start those fires, Haramel had only been trying to teach her how to light a candle with her mind.
She closed her eyes, reliving the memory...
"Now," Haramel instructed, "think very hard about a small flame, and when you have the image in your mind, I want you to 'project' that image onto the candle wick."
Reanna, a girl with merely nine years of age to her, had nodded and closed her eyes, apparently doing what Haramel had told her to. Something had gone wrong, though, because when Reanna had projected her mental image, the trees around them had caught fire as well as the candle wick--which was flaring more than any candle should.
Haramel had hurried to get a frightened and teary-eyed Reanna out of the flaming copse of palm trees. Immediately all of the elves and Arianne had been gathered together and called up rain clouds to put out the fire, leaving a very distraught Reanna sitting off to the side safely away from the flames.
Haramel, as well as the other elves, had tried several times to train Reanna properly in calling a flame to a candle, but the results were always the same, no matter how much Reanna protested that she had done exactly as she had been told.
Eventually, the project had been abandoned.
If only Reanna weren't so powerful, Arianne mused as she came out of the memory. She believed that Reanna had only envisioned a tiny flame, but the fire had heard her call and had roared to do her bidding--even if she hadn't actually bid the fire to do harm to anything surrounding her.
Reanna steadfastly avoided the subject of fire, and had never since had any freak conflagrations happened. Poor Reanna blamed herself, but Arianne knew that it really wasn't the girl's fault.
She didn't know who to blame other than herself, and so she did so heartily, drowning the shame of being jealous of her more beautiful, more talented and more powerful daughter in whiskey.
Gods, she thought blearily when the tankard had been emptied several times. Her husband was dying, her daughter was better than she was, and her life was falling apart around her, but now she wasn't angry, or even the slightest bit annoyed.
No, she was far too drunk for that.
She laughed, instead, the laughter echoing through the empty kitchen. Then she cried, feeling more alone than she ever had in her long life.
************************************************************************
Ah, how the mighty have fallen...Jack dying, Arianne drinking herself into a stupor...how Fate swallows lives! Tune in next time to see what happens next in...Reanna! Also, I know I've been posting a ton lately, but I warn you all that it may not last. It MIGHT go back to being a week before I can get the next chapter written, so enjoy this while it lasts!