One Apart
One Apart
Sima sat up with a gasp. “No!” she shouted. Then she looked around, realizing she was in her room, in her own bed. She must have had a nightmare, but it had all seemed so real. She tried to remember what had made her wake, but now that she wanted to, all of the images and emotions that accompanied the dream were slipping away. It was like trying to grasp water. All that was left from the nightmare was the cold sensation of horror deep in her stomach.
Sima kicked her legs over the edge of her bed and got up. “A drink,” she murmured. “Maybe that’ll clear my head.”
But of course that wouldn’t work. It never did.
“Come, my child. Come to me. I’ll help you on your way.” The cold voice from her dream echoed down the hall. It seemed to be coming from the kitchen, the very place she was headed.
“Oh, shut up,” Sima muttered angrily. “I know you’re not real. I wish you’d just leave me alone.”
It was not the first time the voice had entered her dreams, or her house. It always accompanied the dreams. The nightmares used to only happen sporadically, and were spaced out. Now they were nearly a daily occurrence. She wished she could just get used to them, but getting used to something so horrifying was hardly possible.
Sima slowed as she reached the end of the hall. She stopped, wondering for an awful moment if this time the source of the voice would really be there, sitting in her kitchen, waiting for her. She quickly shook away the thought. It was never real. She stepped out into the kitchen, and stopped in shock.
An old woman was sitting in a chair by the round table in the center of the kitchen. Her grey hair dangled down to her waist, but it was well groomed and sleek. Her face was lined with age, but held a dignified beauty. Steel blue eyes glinted at Sima as she stood there, staring. Panic coiled in her gut and she fought to make herself move, but she was rooted to the spot.
“As you can see, I’m quite real.” The woman spoke, but her mouth did not move. The words, even though they came from in front of her, seemed to echo inside Sima’s head.
“No,” Sima struggled to get the word out of her suddenly thick throat. “You can’t be. Go away!”
A cruel smile curved the woman’s pale lips. “I am real, and I will prove it to you.”
She stood and walked daintily to Sima. She reached out and touched the girl’s cheek with a manicured hand. Sima would have flinched away from the cold touch if she could have moved. It was as if a piece of ice had stroked her face.
“Don’t touch me,” she snarled. She again tried moving, but her body refused to obey her mind.
“No need to struggle, my dear. You can not move because I have made it so.” The steel eyes now took on a feverish light. “I’ve finally found you. After so many long years of searching.”
Sima fought the urge to struggle. She didn’t see how this woman had made her body still, but somehow knew that the woman could do much more if provoked. “Who are you? What do you want with me?”
“All will be revealed in time, Sima Mara Dal’Kuun. But now you will come with me.”
“No, I won’t.” Sima cast her gaze about in a near frenzy. This woman was going to take her away! And she could do nothing to stop her! “You can’t make me!”
The woman’s smile fell from her face. “Do not test me, child. The consequences will be dire if you do.”
Sima glared at her in defiance. “I’m sure,” she said, her voice dripping in sarcasm.
Anger made it’s first markings on the woman’s face. “I warned you.”
Something snapped in Sima’s left arm, shooting pain through it. Sima cried out in pain, her body sagging suddenly from shock, but still held upright by the woman’s ‘grip’. Fear etched her face as she looked back up at the woman, tears streaming down her face.
The woman raised an eyebrow, then nodded slightly. The room dissolved around them and was replaced by a large cavern. Sima gasped at the change. A roaring fire lit one end of the cave, sending tendrils of heat wafting through the cave. It was a sharp contrast to the chilling wing blowing in from the entrance.
The woman smiled and sat down in a large seat hewn of stone. “Welcome to my home. It is rather Spartan, but it is still home.”
Sima snorted softly. Spartan was definitely the word for it. A small cot sat near the fire with several blankets thrown over it. A steel tripod was set over the fire, a large kettle hanging down from the cross ties served as a cooking area.
“Nice place,” she said softly, amazed that anyone could live here at all.
The woman gave her a genuine smile. “I’m glad you approve. I’m setting you free now. Don’t try anything stupid, for your own good.”
Sima sagged to the floor as the invisible grip on her was released. She gently cradled her broken arm to her stomach. Her fear had been replaced by anger and bitterness.
“Come here and I will heal your arm.”
Sima was on the verge of refusing when another stab of pain shot up her arm. She slowly got up and made her way over to the old woman, not too inclined to trust her. “Okay, but don’t expect any gratitude.”
The woman smiled and reached out to touch Sima’s arm. Then, with a sudden violent motion, she grabbed the broken arm and dug her long fingernails into Sima’s flesh. A freezing chill saturated the arm, but Sima could feel the bone mending. It was not exactly a pleasant experience. When the angry buzz in her arm subsided, the woman removed her hand. Blood welled up in the curved fingernail cuts. Sima collapsed onto the floor. Her head was spinning and her arm felt as if it was burning and freezing at the same time.
“It is done.” She looked remorsefully at Sima. “Gratitude is not what I expected. You have too much of your father in you for that.”
Sima’s head immediately cleared at the mention of her father. “H…how do you know my father?” she stammered.
The woman again gave her a genuine smile, but shook her head softly. “Now is not the time to speak of such things. They are better told by a fire to a strong heart. Yours is not strong enough now to hear what I have to say.”
Sima’s eyes narrowed with pain. “No, tell me, please. I know so little about him anyways.” She gave a great sigh, trying to hold back tears again. She was desperate to hear news of her father. He had been such an important part of her life when she was a child. He was her idol, her hero. He had always been there for her, like an anchor through tough and happy times. But then he had disappeared. Sima had though she would die of sorrow, and she nearly did. She had gone off of her food for weeks and become listless and depressed. But that was years ago. The pain of his disappearance had faded with time, but Sima still felt a need to know where, and why, he had gone.
The woman shook her head again, a little more sharply this time. “No, the time is not ripe. You must not leave in search of him now.”
“He’s...he’s near?” Sima asked in a choked, eager voice.
An alarmed look came into the woman’s eyes. “No, not now. He’s far away now, and it is best that way.”
Sima’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you so anxious to keep me away from him?”
The woman did not answer. Instead she stood and went about gathering food from several rock hewn cupboards. “Fetch me some water, child.” She waved her hand vaguely towards a side branch of the cave that Sima had not noticed before.
Sima, still somewhat distrustful of the woman, grabbed a wooden bucket from the floor nearby and started off towards the tunnel. She wouldn’t have gone, but hunger gnawed at her stomach persistently. She stalked down the tunnel, swinging the basket viciously through the dark. The faint sound of water trickling over stone guided her towards what she took to be a small, underground stream. As she neared it, she grew aware of another sound, the faint echo of footsteps behind her. She kept walking, but moved with sudden caution and silence. Her footfalls were barely to be heard anymore, but the footsteps behind her sped up. Sima also hastened her steps, hoping to find light at the stream so as to see her pursuer. Her breathing quickened as fear fell upon her, and she broke into a run.
She had only a moment’s warning before her stalker attacked. The soft tickle of air across her neck set her nerves on end, and she spun, swinging the bucket like a club. She heard a sharp yelp of pain emerge from very near by. As echoes of the yelp died down in the tunnel, a soft, vicious growl sounded uncomfortably close. Sima again swung the bucket in the direction of the sound, but was too slow. It struck nothing but thing air, and the momentum of the heavy bucket spun her another quarter turn before she stopped.
Something large landed on her back, knocking her from her feet. She fell face-down on the stone floor, knocking the wind out of her. Claws sank into her back, prompting a cry of pain from the downed girl. Her hands groped around for the dropped bucket, but instead encountered a sharp edged stone. She grabbed it and managed to get her arms under her chest. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she heaved with all of her might and was able to roll over, tumbling the attacker from her back. She swung the stone in the direction the creature had fallen, but again her crude weapon encountered nothing.
Sima sat up, straining to hear anything, but all she heard was her own harsh breathing. Again, the tickle of moving air over her neck was what saved her. She twisted around, throwing her full weight behind the stone as she swung it again. This time, the stone struck something soft. Fur. A loud yowl echoed down the tunnel. It was a cat’s cry of agony mixed with a dog’s howl.
Sima seized the initiative and jumped to her feet, swinging the stone again. Again the creature cried out in pain. Sima froze as the sound died away. It was replaced by the patter of paws headed in the opposite direction. A shuddering sigh escaped Sima’s lips and she sank to the floor, shaking as the adrenaline rush wore off.
After some time, Sima was able to gain her feet again. She wearily stumbled down the tunnel, back to the warm light of the cavern, water and bucket forgotten. She was in a sort of shocked stupor as she slid to the floor in from of the fire.
The feeling of eyes on her snapped her out of her revere. She turned to find two sets of gazes watching her. One she expected, but the other set nearly made her yell. A large, sleek creature sat at the woman’s feet, it’s malevolent glare on Sima. The creature had a wolfish body with cattish qualities mixed in.
“Do not worry. Viik will not harm you.”
Sima again rose to her feet, wary of another attack. She had to place a hand on the wall to steady her exhausted body, though. “Too late.” She turned to let the woman see four sets of claw marks on her back, easily visible through the shredded back of her nightshirt.
The woman looked at her wounds in alarm, then turned an angry glare on Viik. “I told you not to cut her!” Even without being audible, anger managed to make itself heard in her ‘voice’.
Viik looked down, apparently ashamed. A soft growl emerged from his throat.
The woman shook her head. “Don’t make excuses. You could have avoided harming her if you had tried.”
Viik’s head dropped lower, a slight whimper escaping his throat.
Sima sighed and shook her head. “Don’t be too hard on him. I hit him with the bucket.”
A sharp laugh echoed through the cavern. Sima started in surprise. This was the first audible sound the woman had made. “How odd that you would be making excuses for the same creature that attacked you.”
Sima shook her head, a slight grin tugging at her lips. “Not so odd. I figure you set him on me, so it would be more appropriate for me to be angry with you.” Her expression turned severe. “Why did you do it?”
The woman shrugged, as if the answer were obvious. “I had to see if you could handle yourself. I had to see if you really are your father’s daughter.”
Sima posted her fists on her hips. “And am I?”
“Thankfully, no. If you were, I don’t know what I would have done with you. You have his fiery temper, but your mother’s control and compassion. That is a good sign.”
“A good sign? Why is that a good sign? And why am I even here? What do you want with me? Where are we, anyways?” Sima’s mind was suddenly brimming with questions.
The woman waggled a finger at her. “Now, now. Curiosity killed the cat, you know. But I suppose I can at least answer a few of your questions.”
A troubled expression crossed her face and she went to sit in her hewn chair. She rested her elbows on the rock armrests, steepling her fingers in front of her face. “The place where we are now is poised somewhere between reality and fancy. It is as near to earth as I am to you, but as far away as the farthest reaches of the galaxy. But it is real. Very real indeed, as you now know.” She gestured at the claw marks on Sima’s back. “You must be very careful while you are here.”
Sima’s face was twisted with confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t expect you to. But don’t worry. It will become clear with time.” She sighed softly, sadly. “I am still learning.”
Sima sat down on the floor in front of the woman, eager to hear more. She forgot her distrust in her eagerness to hear more. “How long have you been here?”
“Too long. But I cannot leave, try as I might.” Sadness crept into her eyes and mind voice. She seemed suddenly ancient, the lines deepening on her face. She now looked the kind old lady.
“Why can’t you leave? You were at my house.”
A slight smile crossed her face. “I wasn’t physically there. That is why I never touched you.”
“How could you be there if not physically?”
The woman pursed her lips, searching for the right words. “I guess you could say my essence was there. My spirit, mind, and soul, along with a mental projection of myself was there, at your house. It is the same concept behind my thought speech. You hear it in your head, even though you cannot hear it aloud. In the same way, I presented an image to you, and you saw it, even though it wasn’t physically there.”
Sima nodded. “I think I understand.” She tilted her head to the side. “But why can’t you leave this place?”
The woman let out another weary sigh and sank back deeper into her seat. “As you grow attached to this world, it grows attached to you in return and is reluctant to let you go. If I really wished, I could physically leave, but I have grown to attached, and the attempt might be fatal. But it is the same with all world. You were able to leave yours because you valued nothing there. You had no ties to hold you back. Earth was almost a stopping off point, a place to stay because you had nowhere else to go.”
Sima nodded slowly, beginning at long last to understand. It was true, she had no ties. Her father had disappeared, and her mother was dead. She had no grandparents that she knew of, or cousins, and she had lived alone for a year. She didn’t have any friends either, she had never tried to make any. She had always been rather reclusive, especially since she had graduated from high school a half a year ago.
“I think I get it,” Sima said slowly, chewing on a fingernail as she thought. “I can see how I was taken, but why me? I’m sure there are many others on earth like me.”
The woman smiled softly. “True, but you are special. You have many abilities that others don’t have, that you inherited from your parents. Those two were very unique. But of course, they weren’t originally from earth.” She made the statement sound like something not out of the usual.
The newfound understanding suddenly slipped away. “Not from earth? Where were they from?” Sima’s brow was wrinkled in confusion.
The woman frowned. “From here, my dear. Where else?”
Sima gasped. “From here? How is that possible? They seemed regular enough to me.”
“Regular to you is what they were. Am I correct to say you thought others were a little slow, a little irregular?”
Sima nodded slowly. “Yes, I suppose I thought that sometimes. Does that mean that there are people here, too?”
The woman nodded. “Yes, there are human scattered throughout this land, though they all originally came from earth. They were all like you, swept away when they no longer cared enough to stay on earth. This is where they ended up, by one mean or another.”
Sima shook her head remorsefully. “There is so much I want to know.” She glance up sharply. “You never told me why you wanted me.”
A smiled marked the woman’s lips. “No, I didn’t. I had hoped you had forgotten.” She stood and stretched. “Now is not the time, though. Not the time. And that tale is not for me to tell. Now it is time to rest. Come, I will show you to your room.”
She waited for Sima to stand, then started off down the same tunnel that she had been attacked in. Sima shuddered as she entered the tunnel, but fought off the fear that accompanied the darkness. They walked only a little ways before she could again hear the tinkling of the stream. They followed the sound and soon came to a softly lit chamber. A stream bisected the room, but a small footbridge was built over it.
“This is where you will stay. Feel free to explore the cavern at your leisure.” With that, the woman disappeared into the tunnel again.
Sima looked around at her surroundings. On the other side of the stream stood a wardrobe and a soft looking bed. She crossed the bridge and went to the wardrobe, which was a rich, dark hued wood. Opening it, she found a selection of clothes in her size. She wondered at that, but was grateful for them. She quickly shucked out of her torn pajamas and went to the stream to wash off her cuts. The cool water felt wonderful on the scratches. After drying off, she put on a dressing robe and climbed into the bed. It was as soft as it looked, and she quickly fell asleep. This time, her slumber was not interrupted by dreams.