samaqi: I finally drew my OC, and doesn't seem to be able to display the image. Sad.
"Child."
She heard a voice echoing amidst the sounds of flowing and dripping water. Here and there, birds chimed in a song. Strangely, she felt as if she understood them.
"An awakening witch! Come here and see! Before we let her be!"
Let me be?
Am I dead?
"You're not dead, child. You're just awake."
The warm voice echoed again. She tried to use any sense available to perceive her surroundings. In front of her was darkness. Had she opened her eyes? She wasn't sure. She didn't even know if she was controlling her eyelids.
Hands. Did she feel anything? Cold. But where? Where in her body did the cells make contact with matters to give them this freezing cold sensation? Or was she frosty from the inside?
"You hear the calling, for hearing is like feeling—voluntary, requiring no effort. Lost children rely on their controlled senses, for faith they've lost long ago," the voice offered some cryptic advice. "If you want to see, truly want to awaken, let faith guide your senses."
Am I not dead? Awakened from what?
She tried to open her mouth, but like shifting an equilibrium inside an unknown state machine, the melodic sounds around her distorted and bombarded her ears and brain with shrieks. She panicked.
"Take your time to relearn your roots. I'll wait, little child."
She heard the voice again, still sounding clear amidst the turbulence.
Relearn the roots...
How could she learn anything without her senses? And what are the roots she was told to learn here? The more she thought, the louder the cacophony grew.
What do the birds say?
She tried to listen, to pick up their chirping chatter. This time, their singing was no longer the words she had understood moments earlier.
Instinctive senses... She wondered if her attempts to understand were blocking her "awakening." Recalling what she had heard from the respected Instructor Aki about meditation and connection with nature, she decided to stop thinking, leaving her mind blank.
Gasp.
She coughed repeatedly as she emerged from the water, expelling the cold salted liquid that had filled her lungs. As the coughing subsided to a point she could narrowly open her eyes, she found herself sitting in shallow water. Coral reefs of rainbow colors and anemones, larger and more vibrant than those in Balamb sea, were clearly visible under the blue water pierced through by the intense sunlight. She held her hands close to her eyes, trying to feel something other than the cold. Her left arm was still broken. Maybe she wasn't dead after all, for she still felt the pain, though it was dull amidst the frosty chill.
"Come, child…"
Startled, she looked toward the source of the voice. An old lady with white hair, tied neatly behind her back, stood before her. Her face was lined with enough wrinkles to make her guess her age of a hundred years. She wore a rough linen dress and sandals made of straw. Leaning on a wooden cane whose annual rings remained sharp, the woman stood on land so dry it cracked, contrasting sharply with the cold sea not far away.
"Who are you?"
Frozen by the cold, Acma had no hesitation to reach the cracked land, ignoring what she was actually making contact on the seabed. Water dripped from her clothes and hair as she walked, and she immediately felt warmer as the heat evaporated the cold moisture.
The elder didn't answer.
"Where am I?"
Acma asked again while glancing around at her surroundings. The ocean stretched endlessly to the left and right, while the desert opened up in front of her. Infinitely.
"Come. See for yourself, for everyone has their own answer."
The woman smiled, tapped her cane on the ground, then began to walk away.
"Wait!"
Acma panicked as the granny, despite her leisurely steps, moved away from her at high speed. What is this world?
She started to follow her, but her feet felt nothing. At first, she thought it was just the cold. Her blue dress floated on the water, preventing her from seeing her feet beneath. As she reached the land, her steps grew heavier. It was then she realized she couldn't lift her feet up from the ground, no matter how hard she tried. Her wet knee-length dress now swept across the dry earth, leaving traces of water momentarily, as if her knees were buried beneath the cracks. She felt a sense of helplessness. How could this be happening? She had no idea.
Relearn your roots.
She recalled the woman's words, who was now just a dot on the distant horizon.
"Wait!" she called out again. To her surprise, the granny stopped walking and turned this time.
Acma waited for the elderly woman to say something, but nothing came from her lips that continued to smile kindly.
"I can't feel my legs," Acma said, half asking.
The granny paused for a moment, then asked, "Is it necessary if you do, though?"
What? Acma was puzzled. "Wait!" she called out to the woman, who had started walking away again.
Just now, Acma noticed the woman's sandals. Except, they were not at all sandals.
She swallowed hard, gathering all the bravery she had left to calm her mind. Then she felt it.
"Help me... walk."
Tree roots beneath the cracking ground pushed her forward.