"THE BUILDING'S COMING DOWN!"
Concrete cracking and fracturing underneath her, spider-crack fissures appearing everywhere around her…
Matthew's face stricken with fear, his legs growing wobblier by the moment as he struggles to stay upright, to not fall, to survive…
The Colossus right up against the building, smashing it to pieces…
Why isn't Skylar controlling it? Why's it heading this way?!
Flashes of purple—sickly purple, purple of Destruction…
Destruction. Not Creation, Destruction.
Skylar's power is meant to create.
Destruction opposes her, Destruction is poisoning her, it's killing her…
I did this. This is all my fault.
Matthew panting and shaking and trembling with fear…
I did this. This is all my fault.
Matthew's going to die because of me.
No, can't let him die! Can't let Matthew die! Can't let Matthew die!
Roof breaking apart, splitting underneath her feet—underneath Matthew's paws…
Matthew's screaming in horror, in terror. He's frozen, he's petrified, he's not going to make it if—
I have to save him.
Legs bolt and arms stretch out of their own accord as she reacts out of pure, wild instinct. Hands meet fluffy fur, shoving the Lab out of the way and off of the rooftop…
All-my-fault-all-my-fault-all-my-fault…
"HARUMI!" Matthew cries. But it's too late. She's done it. She's sealed his fate—and her own.
His life will be spared—her life will end.
The world's spinning all around her—a dizzy, kaleidoscopic carousel of wooziness and confusion…
Losing her footing fast…can't hold on much longer…
Jolts forward—hands scrape against splintering concrete, her palms are slashed and torn…
Thick, crimson stickiness of blood…sickly sulfur smell filling her nostrils…
Dizziness clouding her vision…murky mistiness filling her frantic mind…
Blurriness closing in…sleepiness beckoning her away…
Heartbeat pounding, pounding, pounding…
Sucking in shaky, shallow breaths…
Gotta stay awake. Gotta stay alert. Gotta stay vigilant.
Can't fall asleep…can't fall asleep…can't fall asleep…
To breathe is to live…
To sleep is to die…
Coal-black eyes, once jade-green, staring tearfully at her, imploring and pleading, haunting and hollow, not wanting to believe what they're seeing…
Lloyd…
"Rumi." he sobs, internally screaming, No! No! Please, no! Not you too! NOT YOU TOO!
Tears pouring down his cheeks like twin waterfalls…face splotchy with grief…cheeks crimson with horror and shock…sweat beading on his forehead…heart breaking in two…
If only she had never done that ritual!
If only she had listened to his pleas!
If only she had not brought the Dark Lord back from the past, corrupted from the inside out, deranged, warped, distorted, his blackened heart twisted and crooked and gnarled, his crimson eyes blazing with hatred and anger and bitterness…
Just like her own did on that dreadful night…
Even now her own words come back to haunt her…
Clotho-venge! Clotho-decer! Clotho-haieed!
Power of vengeance…power of deception…power of hatred…
There's a sickening crack—like a sky-splitting bolt of lightning or the recoil of a shotgun—but then it's followed by another…and another…and another…and another—until it seems that she is trapped in a sea of stormy, tumultuous racketing noise—
Then the ground makes a sound like that of the earth splitting open—
A shriek tears itself out of her throat as she plummets down, down, down—
Her arms and legs flailing in all directions, her fists clutching nothing but handfuls of air—
"NOOOOOO!" Matthew's voice is drowned out by the wind rushing past her ears and the somersaulting feeling in the pit of her stomach as she continues to plunge like a stone to her doom—
All…my…fault…
Glass cutting her hands—shards of pointy rock-like concrete poking and jabbing at her ribs—dust flooding her dry mouth and stinging nostrils, causing her throat to burn and her eyes to water—
Unconsciousness descending upon her too fast to push back against it…
Sinking down into deep, dreamless slumber as her life ebbs away…
One final fleeting thought before she succumbs to the darkness of departing…
I'm so sorry, Lloyd.
A howling, wailing scream exploded from Rumi's throat as she bolted upright, jolting awake in a panic, her eyes pooling with hot, stinging tears of fright. As she sat there panting and drenched with sweat, her blankets lay tangled and twisted about her feet, looking for all the Merged Realms like a coiling nest of rattlesnakes. Her lungs spasmed as she desperately gasped for breath. Her muscles twitched with adrenaline, all of her instinct and reflex telling her to run—to flee. But she knew deep within her she could never outrun the nightmares that continued to haunt her mind with a vengeance. A sudden wave of weakness seemed to flood her jangled nerves and cramping muscles, draining her of all rest and serenity as she slumped forward, bending almost in half from sheer and raw exhaustion, fear, and grief combined.
Many of her nightmares these days seemed to take the form of half-understood, formerly-forgotten memories.
Memories of when she had been the Jade Princess Harumi.
Memories of how she'd betrayed the one she now called her big brother—Lloyd, the Green Ninja of old legend and legacy.
Memories of all the heartache and suffering and pain caused by her foolishness and bitterness so many years ago—back even before the Merge, in all its catastrophe and cataclysmic chaos, ensued for reasons unknown.
And as she thought of this, her lip quivered, and before she could hold back, she started to cry. Sobs wracked her lungs and surged through her veins with swirling, numbing, unprecedented chills, cold like a dagger of ice penetrating deep into her battered and wounded core and twisting there. Her sobs quickly turned into whimpers, soon joined by heartrending mewls and hiccupping wails as the poor, broken ten-year-old just cried and cried and cried.
After the Merge, she'd woken up with no memory of who she was or where she'd come from. That is, until Lloyd found her. Then, in the days ahead, she had slowly begun to find the puzzle pieces of her hidden past, until she had come to realize that she had been de-aged in the aftermath of the Merge and that her true home was back in Ninjago. With her new Golden Crystal powers at her command—created when the Forbidden Crystal Power and Golden Power had fused together, intertwining and interlocking with each other so that the corruption and darkness of the Crystal was countered by the purity and light of the Gold—Rumi had been accepted both as a Ninja-in-training and as a member of the Young Elemental Force.
But even though she had a new life and a new chance to do what was right, she had still been deeply, deeply scarred, her core all but splintered by the aftermath of her wrong actions—even after she'd lost all memory of her past in the wake of the Merge.
And it was those scars, those splinters, those shards of aching misery and darkened memory that continued to haunt her to this day—most painfully and poignantly in her dreams. This latest night-terror she'd been facing wasn't new to her. It had been happening several nights in a row now, and it only got worse every time, growing sharper and stronger and more vivid and real with each passing night. Tonight was the worst yet.
She had felt the pain—heard the screams—living through it as if it had just crossed over into the waking-world side of things. She could actually hear her heartbeat growing slower and more sluggish near the end of it—could actually feel her pulse slowly growing weaker and weaker and weaker, until it was so weak she could hardly feel the throb of it anymore—could actually sense her nerves going still, her muscles becoming lifeless and limp, her lungs slowing their motion within her. It was as if the motion inside—the motion of her body, her core—was being crushed and smothered, stifled and snuffed out by the motion outside—the motion of the universe around her.
And the sheer thought of it was enough to make her skin crawl with goosebumps and her stomach ball into tight little knots within her. No mistake about it—she was absolutely terrified.
She had faced things no child (de-aged or otherwise) should face. And she had come out of the other side of the hurricane-force maelstrom bruised and battered and scarred and scathed for life.
And even now the secret hurts, scars, and fears that she'd kept hidden for weeks now were returning to wound her even further—biting into her stricken core like the fangs of a mangy wolf, clutching at her wounded spirit like the talons of a hawk, until she feared she would be torn apart from the sheer force of it.
She didn't understand why this was happening—why years' worth of lost memories and forgotten trials were swarming her subconscious so violently and viciously now. But she did no one thing for certain—she didn't know whether she could endure the pain for much longer.
It was as if there was a deep, dark void growing inside of her—an emptiness of fear and pain and suffering and heartsickness. And it was threatening to drown her in waves of anguish and deepest woe.
And she didn't know how to battle the monstrous, nightmarish darkness on her own.
Her thoughts and despairing doubts were interrupted by an ear-splitting creak of her bedroom door. Startled, she shot upright so fast she banged her head on the top of her bunk. "OW!" she shrieked, her hands flying upward to clutch her aching head. Her fingers just barely grazed the bump already starting to form, and she couldn't help but let out a wincing, wheezy hiss of pain. She whirled around in her bed to see who or what had made that sickening creaking noise—before her face flushed fifteen shades of crimson when she saw the figure in the door. His face was drawn with concern, and his eyes were growing wide as grapefruits as a thin shaft of wraithlike silver moonlight illuminated a very peculiar yet very distinctive emerald-green hair streak that stuck out against a sea of raven-black silky, shaggy hair wisps.
"Morro?" she half-whispered-half-moaned, totally mortified that he'd seen her bang her head and at the same time shockingly bewildered as to why he was here. "What are you doing here?" she breathed a second later, struggling to collect her flyaway wits and at the same time keep her involuntarily quailing, wobbly voice steady.
"I heard you screaming through the wall," Morro sheepishly explained, "and I wanted to make sure that you're okay." Then he fixed her with a searching look, and little Rumi could feel her face growing hot from the sheer power in that gaze. It felt like he could see straight into her core, and she just wanted to sink into the floor—or phase through her covers and turn invisible and incorporeal like a ghostly banshee.
She opened her mouth to tell him that she was fine and she didn't need his help with this, but before she could, he asked gently and compassionately, "Are you sure you're okay? Have…" He shuffled his feet and stared at his shoes for a few moments before sucking in a shaky breath and finishing, "Have you been having nightmares, Ruru?"
The endearing nickname that Morro and only Morro ever used for the young Quiet One struck a painfully panging chord in Rumi's heart and mind. Before she could stop herself, her lip puckered into a sorrowful squiggly line on her face, and then she burst into tears anew as she crumpled into a little ball of agony on the bed and buried her face in her knees. Sobs rattled her frame once again, and she couldn't bring herself to meet Morro's gaze. Her balled hands grasped the blankets so fiercely her knuckles were turning moonstone-white, and her chest spasmed with great miserable heaves as she struggled to calm herself. She hiccupped and sneezed and coughed and sobbed, feeling as if she'd never be able to stem the flow of her tears, feeling as if her tear ducts would be drained dry with every passing sob and whimper. She trembled and shook, shuddering and shivering with cold, fright, and sorrow interweaving into a tapestry of rue and anguish.
Slowly but surely, she slipped bit by bit off her bed, slumping onto the floor in a tearful, shy little heap of agony and emotion. The wooden boards seemed to press into her skin, their grain indenting itself in her right elbow, but she barely noticed—so broken and shattered and sick of heart was she.
And then she flinched as she felt the vibration of someone kneeling beside her before taking her into his arms in a tight, firm embrace. Biting back a scream, she craned her head around to see who was grabbing her like this—and was mortified once again when she realized it was Morro, holding her tenderly in his strong, wondrously warm grasp. Letting out a shaky sigh of relief, she let her eyelids flutter closed and nestled deeply into the embrace, snuggling comfortably against his chest, listening to his gently thrumming heartbeat thrumming soothingly in her ears. Sensing her serenity, he drew her closer to himself, wrapping his arms tightly yet gently around her back, pressing her up against him so that her runny nose was nuzzled in a semi-squashed position against his PJs just below his collarbone.
Slowly, her bunched-up muscles relaxed, her tightly twisted nerves unwound within her, and her frantically thumping heart began to pound a little less as her shallow breaths steadily deepened, growing soft and calm and even as she sucked in little, wispy puffs of air and hesitantly returned the embrace. She wasn't alone anymore—she had Morro, her cousin and friend, to comfort her and give her encouragement simply through his presence.
He then gently rocked back and forth with her in his arms as her sobs slowly dissolved into nothing more than a few scattered hiccupping coughs. He began rubbing her back tenderly in soothing circular motions that released the tension in her shoulders and made her feel delightfully cozy and sleepy. His breezy, steamy breath ever-so-slightly tickled her scalp, and she let out a lacey, almost silent giggle before a woozy, dreamy yawn escaped her lips. Her eyelashes fluttered slightly as she leaned further into his embrace, all but melting into his grasp.
Then, as Morro cradled her even more tenderly to himself, a gentle yet shockingly frigid breeze softly drifted past the room, whistling through the slightly ajar window and making Rumi shiver a little. Then she felt a slight movement as Morro slid one of his arms out from around her and reached upward, groping and fumbling for a small throw hanging off the edge of the bed. As she drowsily pried open her eyes again, the wind-wielder succeeded in grasping the throw and draping it around the both of them. "Thanks." Rumi slurred, her eyelids drooping half-shut again as she cuddled closer to him, snuggling once again deeply into his chest. Her vision slowly blurred, growing hazier and fuzzier by the moment, but even then she couldn't help but glimpse a thin smile flitting across Morro's face as he began to kindly stroke her white-blond wavy wisps and soothingly caress her aching limbs. Another yawn—soft and sleepy—slipped out from between her lips as sweetly as a calm and tranquil mountain stream. The throbbing ache in her head slowly grew duller and duller until it had utterly faded from her mind and subconscious.
As she began to drift between the layers of alertness, hovering between semiconsciousness and slumber, wispy shushing noises wafted into her ears and a soothing, tingling numbness seeped into her tired joints and drowsy nerves. She felt soothed and quiet and still and calm and blissful all at the same time.
She let out a soft sigh of contentment, burrowing her little body even more into Morro's body, amazed at how such loving sympathy and tender compassion could be communicated through simple contact between two individuals. As the fuzziness of the blanket and Morro's body warmth serenely began to drape around her like a cocoon of joy and happiness and comfort, she slowly began to feel the shadows of healing slumber beckoning her away from the waking world.
Dreaminess and solace cloaked her in tingling, pulsing bliss, smoother and softer than a bluejay's wing, cozier and fluffier than a snow rabbit's squishy plushiness. She felt strong as a catamount and swift as a wind-wolf and sleepy as a hibernating chipmunk all at once. It was a wonderful feeling to feel, she sluggishly mused.
And then the most wonderful feeling in the world trickled through her veins as the wind-wielder softly crooned in her ear a beautiful lullaby that relaxed her aching nerves and soothed her frazzled thoughts, drawing her deeply into warm waves of tranquility and peace as she grew sleepier and sleepier. It was a tune that she remembered Morro singing to Lloyd once or twice, and those experiences had proven that it was perfect for chasing away even the darkest of nightmarish dreams.
In the darkness of night,
When it seems there's no light,
Remember that love will keep you safe, will keep you strong—
Chase the wind, touch the sky.
Close your eyes, don't you cry.
I'll keep you safe, I'll keep you warm, my love is always there.
Subconsciously, Rumi found herself mouthing the words of the second verse along with her cousin as Morro whispered-cooed the next verse with his voice growing softer and fuzzier in her ears as she slowly drifted away into the world of dreams.
When the night-terrors fly,
And the light seems to die,
Remember that love will keep you safe, will keep you strong—
Chase the wind, touch the sky.
Close your eyes, don't you cry.
I'll keep you safe, I'll keep you warm, my love is always there.
Chase the wind, touch the sky.
Close your eyes, don't you cry.
I'll keep you safe, I'll keep you warm, my love…is always…there.
A soft sigh told Morro that his personal mission had just been accomplished as little Rumi fell fast asleep in his arms. He let out his own wistful sigh as he slowly rose from the floor, cupping one arm under Rumi's knees and looping one arm around her back for support as he silently laid her in her bed, tucking her covers tightly yet tenderly around her. He then stood upright, gazing fondly and lovingly at the gentle rising and falling of her chest and listening to the deep, even breaths of healing slumber and dreamy sleep as his little cousin softly snoozed away, stirring slightly and then falling still as a purring kit—lost in slumberland.
His heart and core tingled with warmth and bliss, a feeling akin to childlike laughter and unbridled, giddy wonder. He wouldn't trade being both his little cousin's teddy bear and safety blanket for the whole Merged Realms.
"Sweet dreams, Ruru." Morro breathed—before stifling his own yawn and quietly tiptoeing out of the room, softly closing the door behind him with a loving, thoughtful smile.
Suffice it to say, no more night-terrors came to either one that night. For the first time in weeks, both could take rest in slumber without any fear of nightmares.