What Do You Deserve? (Open)

Bjarga had missed her dear friend in the weeks since their last meeting, and had returned to the wretched city of Felici with the sole desire to find her again.

It was no small feat, as she soon discovered. The city was massive, and she knew next to nothing about her friend. Worse still, she had to remain hidden for fear of what being spotted might mean for her. She'd spent several hours searching, hoping to find that telltale red hair that had a color more pure than any red her prisms could ever muster. Alas, the search turned up fruitless.

Eventually, she decided to seek divine assistance, and made her way throughout town, reading the various signs as they instructed her on the proper way to reach the temple district. It was as she approached the temple that she saw something that left her dumbfounded. She wouldn't mistake that red hair for anyone else. That was Alex!

She offered a silent prayer of thanks to Arithelia, even as the giddiness welled up inside her at her search ending in such a divine manner. She'd fly across the sky towards the temple with little care for who might see her at this point, once again appearing as a rectangle of discordant rainbows, before landing atop the temple. She'd look down through the ruined ceiling and watch her friend at first.

She saw the way she looked at the defilement with sorrow. - and perhaps a touch of guilt? She'd reach out and touch the walls, and, only due to the silence of the place, she'd make out the words she spoke.

Bjarga herself felt sorrow, not for the temple, for this defilement was not exclusive to Felici, and she'd come to terms with it long ago, but for her friend who did not seem to be smiling.

She'd leap from the ceiling, her patagium slowing her fall so that it would not hurt her, and land upon a pile of burnt rubble noisily.

"Whoa!" She'd shout as she fought to gain her balance. She'd dig her toe's claws in to the rubble beneath her, take a couple quick steps forward to avoid falling, placing her closer to Alex than she intended, look up once she'd come up to a stop, blush as she stared so close at Alex's eyes once more, marveled at her height, which caused her to blush more deeply, and weakly stammer, "Um... hi, Alex."

She'd take a step back, to alleviate some of her own embarrassment, "I didn't mean to spy on you. I've been looking for you, and happened to notice you here - which was really crazy as I was coming here to pray for direction so that I could find you, yet you were here! - and came to speak to you, but you seemed sad, and I wanted to make you smile, but I didn't quite land how I intended, and..." she'd look even more embarrassed, "hi."

At the inquiry about her "being alright", Bjarga would look down and rotate her feet in circles to make sure she hadn't hurt anything, "Yeah. I think so." She felt the need to blush again, because, even though she had looked away, the image of those green eyes was still burned in to her skull, and that her friend Alex as so tall and fussing over her. It made her extremely giddy to know Alex cared, and it took a great deal of self-restraint not to express her joy at this fact.

When Alex laughed at her expense, her fading blush would renew once again in force. She didn't mind, knowing the teasing for what it was. The sound of her laughter, however, made the hairs of her tail stand on end, and she'd instinctively reach around and grasp at it, pulling it to her face to hide the lower half of her face as her embarrassment turned to admiration. However, with so little to distract from it, if Alex had noticed them prior, she'd see the dark bags under Bjarga's eyes had gotten at least a couple shades darker, and wider as well, since they'd last meet.

Meanwhile, in her own head, she'd frantically try to explain to herself the way she felt in a flood of questions she couldn't answer: Why? Why was her hair so perfect, eyes so radiant, and laugh like bells that caused things inside her to resonate with their sound, tickling her, and enticing her to join her friend in her mirth?

She wanted to bite on her tail like she had as a young child, she was so overwhelmed by it all. It was only the fact her friend was there, and that she could see her that she refrained from indulging with her instinctual habits.

Finally, Alex would ask her final questions, and Bjarga would shake her head emphatically, "No! No! No! I'm fine! I just," she'd blush, "missed you." She didn't realize how the rest of her explanation might sound, "It's just, sometimes, a lot of the time, when I dream, I see a red sky made of perfect hair with two brilliant green suns that pierce right through me with their all-seeing light, and in those moments I'm left paralyzed, vulnerable, and reverent. If I were back at the monastery, I'd ask the monks about what this means. Usually, in my dreams, I feel so small, and when you," she'd blush again, as she admitted her own theories on the subject of her dreams, "completely encapsulate my private world, I feel overwhelmed, inspired, scared, joy, terror..."

She began to speak faster, frantically, "I mean, who are you? You're my friend, Alex, but I don't understand. I've seen so many people, but no one has ever made me feel this way. I don't even know what I'm feeling, and it scares me! I've been busy, but in that time I often found myself distracted, thinking of you, imagining telling you what I was doing, about the people I'd met, listening to your stories, - I really want to know more about you- and then I'd imagine us falling asleep on the beach, you using my tail as a pillow, and I'd watch you sleep, and..."

She let out a frustrated cry and became a he. His eyes went from their vibrant blue to a black for a moment, and he raised one of his feet menacingly as he threatened to bring the claws down upon a nearby pile of ashen rubble in his deluge of emotions.

"an animal... a monster." Tears would begin to roll down his, no her, face and she'd shake in terror at what had almost happened. She'd turn to face Alex, terror crossing her face, "I," her voice would catch in her throat as a sob robbed her of her voice for a moment, more tears would fall, and it'd take a moment before she could force the words rushing out, "I'm so sorry. Please, forgive me. I'm not a monster. I'm not a monster! I'm so sorry! Please. Please! Don't leave me. Don't hate me. Don't not be my friend. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean to. I just... I don't know what's going on, and I'm scared, and I'm overwhelmed, and I just wish I could find Arithelia, and talk to her, and know what's going on."

Her tears would flow more rapidly as her words continued to flow, "I miss the monks. They would know what's going on; what I'm supposed to do. I miss them so much. I'm alone, and I don't know what to do, and there's no one here to help me, and I'm tired of sleeping alone, of being alone, of feeling like I'm a failure, and that I'll never find her, and that I'll die without anyone ever caring."

Her shoulders would heave as she sobbed. She broke down and collapsed on the floor, burying her face completely in her tail as she sobbed uncontrollably. Her whole body shook and trembled, and her shoulders would persist in flexing and heaving as her body forced the months of feelings, and weeks of fatigue, she'd bottled out from her body in a torrent of tears.

She was stunned when she felt herself pulled against her friend unexpectedly. At first she'd flinch, as if terrified for having done something wrong, but then she'd hear her words. She was calling her name. It was a caring, soothing thing, much like some of the monks would do for her when she was a child too young to turn her pain into lessons.

It had been so long. She'd close her eyes, tears flowing through them, and give up all resistance. She'd bury her face against her friend and allow the now silent tears to fall. With each thing she said, it was as if a dagger were struck in to her heart. It was a pain brought about hearing things she hadn't heard in so long, hadn't believed in so long, and wanted to hear for so very long. She could feel that pain ooze inside her from her wretched heart filled with vitriol, dripping deep into the core of her being as she sobbed her silent tears, and then it would bubble and erupt from her lips as a wail. Without thinking she'd throw her arms around her friend, bury her face in the space between her shoulder and neck, and wrap her tail around Alex's back to pull her closer as she cried.

She did not know how long she did this. She simply cried, and held her, and felt her warmth, and did not let go until the tears began to subside, the pain was drained from her heart, and the numbness of exhaustion began to set in.

She knew she should let go. She had not asked permission to hold Alex like this, but she held her in that moment in a grip only slightly less tight than one might holding on to the edge of a cliff to deny death's fall. She said nothing, for fear her words would reveal the passing of her anguish, and the end of this moment. She felt the guilt inside her, as she called herself out on her own manipulation, and it made her sick. She'd develop a fierce look upon her face as she began to resent herself.

Finally, with all the strength she could muster, she pulled herself away from the woman she called friend with a difficulty like peeling her own skin from her flesh. She'd look down at the ruined floor of the temple, unable to face her with her eyes. As she thought about what had happened, her bottom lip would tremble slightly. She'd curl it inside her mouth and bite down on it to hide it's display of her internal emotions. It's presence there denied her the ability to speak.

She'd heard all the wonderful things her friend had said, but in that moment all she could think of was her betrayal. Finally, after calming herself, she'd reply, "I'm sorry. I should not have taken advantage of you. You deserve better. I am not what you think I am. I try to be good, but deep down I want to take advantage of your kindness. I want to hold you, and have you hold me, because it makes me feel like I'm not a," she'd pause for a moment, as if another word almost slipped through her lips first, "magi, and you're not the most beautiful person I've ever met. People like me? We only bring good, wonderful, beautiful, amazing people like you down. We're like leeches: fools think we're helpful, but we're only parasites."

Mixed in to her self-depreciating speech were the monk's teachings, but in her current state they were being warped and twisted. She'd tried for months to remain positive, and every night she'd been alone after being hated, she'd tried with all her might to forgive the people who had done so, and hoped that one day they could all love one another. However, that time had taken its toll on her, and she remembered some of the terrible things she had done.

She knew it was in self-defense. She knew it should have been okay, but she was not herself when she did those things. Something within her snapped and took over. It had happened before, and when she'd held Alex, she could feel that side of her once more. It had tainted her affections, and now she associated them with that side of her she both dreaded and resented. If she were to close her eyes and daydream for a brief moment, as she did in this one, she'd see the little girl she was become a monstrous, black-eyed beast. She'd rend the perfect threads of the sky asunder in her wake, and swallow the green suns, and the red sky, and consume her whole world in darkness.

On the surface though, she was simply a ragged magi girl in monk's robes adorned with ribbons and lace and a net with woven pieces of glass and crystal upon her. It was a wonder she had not cut her precious friend. - Friend. The word filled her with bile in her current state. She was not worthy of it. - Her dark eyes weighed heavy, and her skin was an unnatural pale as her strength continued to fade. How long had it been since she slept? She'd eaten acorns... had it been so long ago?

Time came rushing in, and she'd fall to her hands and knees. Careful, with her trembling arms, to rest on her side. Her breathing became heavy. Had she always been so hot? She hadn't realized, in her determination and the lies she told herself, that she'd felt so poorly. A bitter smile would cross her face: a realization why she needed to find her "friend". She needed the safety of her dreams to finally stop lying to herself long enough to return to the present. The ugly, painful, weak, disgusting present. She'd turn a weary eye up to look at her.

She was still tall, still beautiful, that red hair, more perfect than the purest red light of her prisms. She suspected there was some magic there. Her eyes too. A girl who spent as much time as she did looking at rainbows was well acquainted with all the colors, but hers defied that. It was as if her eyes could not comprehend what she saw, but instead it was some trick of the mind, an illusion of magic, that allowed her to possess such pure shades.

She wondered what the monks would say about her dreams before, and recalled, every time, that she imagined they'd caution her. She, her dear friend Alex, might be some demon, or one of Nevyne's creatures to spirit her away.

She was so tired. If she was Nevyne's creature, all she wanted was for her to end this charade, and take her away: a willing soul to be consumed in Nevyne's realm of vanity. Nevyne was a good goddess.

A genuine smirk, weak as it was, would cross her face. Even in all of this, remembering to say, and think, nice things about Nevyne whenever her previous statement contradicted them still made her smile. A child's game, and a game she still loved to play.

By this point, Bjarga was dizzy, disoriented. She had trouble hearing, as if Alex's words came from down some long tunnel. She remembered flying, but she was upside down, and her arms and legs didn't have that familiar ache of being held erect as the patagium caught the wind. In fact, she couldn't fly upside down, could she?

She couldn't remember. She looked up. Alex was there. That's not right. Alex can't fly.

"Oh." She realized she must be dreaming.

Then they emerged from the remains of the temple and the light shined brightly in to her eyes. Odd. Normally it was Alex's eyes, her vibrant green eyes that almost seemed to glow under her determined glare, that was the sun in her dreams. She'd close her eyes to dispel this new interloper, and bury her head against her cradling arms that carried her. As space between the top of her nose and her brow burried themselves against her bicep, she realized how strong she was. Really, Alex was so incredible.

She didn't even care when she realized she was being carried. It was only a dream, after all, and it was a nice one. It was like when she'd held her, but without any of the guilt, as it was Alex that was holding her. She'd smile. She didn't mean it in any way but it's most innocent intent, and this was a dream so there was no harm in saying it.

The words barely escaped her lips. She barely heard them, much like Alex's own voice: a side effect of this peculiar dream, "I love you, Alex." She'd smile even brighter. She didn't know her that well, but she was always so nice, and so kind, and everything she tried to be and failed. How could you not admire someone like that?

She'd cuddle against her, thankful for this blissful dream. She'd have to dream more often, if this was what it was like to sleep.

Bjarga heard talking. She'd roll her head along Alex's forearm to look up at her, the arm cradling the back of her neck. Alex was speaking. She smiled weakly and giggled. She liked Alex's voice. Still considered this all a dream, and would reach out to touch her lips. Instead, her arm trembled and shook as it rose, and the effort grew too much before even reaching her collar. She'd continue to try just a little harder, a tear of frustration began to stream down her face.

Why? The thoughts were slow, ponderous. In her state, the words, which would normally lightning fast in her mind, would come meandering along at their own inconsistent pace. Much like the effort to raise her arm, this too took much out of her. This is a dream... Why can't I touch her? Why is she so far away?

Her arm would collapse upon her own chest as her strength gave out, and a groan would escape her lips. She'd realize, though she could hear sounds, and see her lips move, that she couldn't understand what she was saying. There was a soft sound, clearly Alex, and...

She'd roll her head further, and see a man. Who was he? She didn't recognize him. Odd. She didn't usually dream of people she hadn't seen. She was a lucid dreamer most nights, and often was able to recall most of the events of said dreams as if she lived them. This was new.

She didn't like him. She didn't know why, but something about him seemed as if he didn't like her, and she found it irritating. The people in her dreams should like her. She decided she didn't like this dream very much and would roll her head back until her eyes buried themselves against her bicep. She'd coo softly. She attempted to purr, but could not find the strength. She'd black out instead.

( Daniel Caim  Alexandra Caim )