Four

  This Is Why We Stay Hydrated Folks

  It took me a while to realize everything was quiet.

  My ears were filled with the thunderous double-rhythm of my heartbeats, drowning out the silence. A misplaced step and a particularly grabby tree root finally got my attention by acquainting my face with the mossy ground. Spluttering and gasping, I moved to get up again, but exhaustion had caught up with me and the effort was too much. I flopped back down on the cool dirt, breathing in the rich musk of damp soil and vegetation. Squeezing my eyes shut, I slowly felt my panic subsiding, my body and brain catching up with each other.

  Had what I’d seen not been real? The shrieking shadows and the winged silhouettes. My wings being so heavy I had to hold them up. It had all been in my mind, hadn’t it? Was that what Dr. Agoka’ta had called a dream? Maybe the opposite of a dream. I’d always slept so deeply I never remembered anything between closing my eyes and waking up. Whatever that had been, I hoped I never had to experience anything like it ever … EVER … again.

  At last, I opened my eyes and picked myself up off the ground, brushing dirt and wet leaves off my dress.

  Then I froze when it finally sank in.

  I was outside.

  Staring in wonder, I looked up at the huge trees surrounding me. They stood motionless and serene, only their highest boughs swaying in the light breeze, their tips seeming to touch the sky. Their fibrous trunks were bare up to a certain point, and a coppery reddish color that was curiously similar to my own hair. Where they did have branches, a lush canopy spread, so vibrant green and soft looking, like a living blanket protecting everything below. Velvety plants and fluffy bushes sprouted up from among the winding roots of the towering giants. A handful of small leaves flickered golden as they fluttered down through the few rays of sunlight able to pierce the verdant wall.

  I slowly turned in a circle, afraid that any sudden movement might shatter the blissful scene. There was an indescribable reverence suffusing the whole forest. Something sacred that permeated even the smallest bits foliage. Somehow, I’d stumbled my way into a pure oasis of untouched nature and every fiber of my being felt overwhelmingly honored to be there.

  A sudden rustle in the bushes beside me made me gasp and jump back as something darted out. In a split second, I glimpsed a tiny creature skitter across the ground on two incredibly thin legs ending three clawed feet. It had a round body covered in mottled brown feathers and beady black eyes on either side of its pointed face. Then spread its … wings! The creature had a pair of wings, not quite the same shape as mine, but proportional to its size. It popped up off the ground like it was nothing and flew away, dipping and bobbing between the trees so fast I could hardly keep track of it.

  “Hib’eh! Masce! Bai ejet! Bue nahn sai se pase?!” I shouted, trying to run after the little thing. (Hey! Wait! Come back! How did you do that?!)

  I spread my own wings and for a second, fragments of my distorted dream came flashing back with a painful twinge of my muscles. Hearts pounding again, I reached back to my shoulders, looking over them as I carefully flexed my wings, feeling them move under my fingers. My three left wings smoothly unfurled, not at all heavy or paralyzed. I checked the right ones and they too felt securely attached and under my control. Breathing a sigh of relief, I spread all six to their full span and tried to flap down hard.

  “Pahla! … aye’yah … aye’yah, pahla,” I whimpered as burning spasms rippled through my shoulders.

  I pulled my wings in, massaging the joints in an attempt to get the aches out. How was I going to learn to fly if there was no one around to teach me? I didn’t know what I was doing. Was I even going about it the right way?

  Obviously there are creatures here that can fly. Maybe I can find ones that can talk to me and ask them for help? I mused.

  Sighing, I kept rubbing my wings as I began walking deeper into the forest. I wasn’t going anywhere in particular. My yet again new surroundings were just so beautiful and fascinating I wanted to keep exploring them. The leaves of the trees were like small, more bristly feathers and gave off a wonderfully calming scent. I remembered Dr. Agoka’ta once telling me some of the trees of our world would glow at night, some pale blue, others light green, or orange, or pink. I wondered if the flora of this world would do the same.

  I looked up at the pinholes of light casting thin beams through the canopy. It reminded me of the one good part of my nightmare – the silhouettes of my parents hovering weightlessly in the streaming sunlight. Their hands reaching for me. The unspoken promise of home and safety. A wave of sadness welled up in my chest and filled my eyes with tears.

  Agoka’ta’jai … Ma’hy’nami … I really wish I knew where you were. I thought to the sky, then balled my fists in determination. I’ll figure out how to fly and maybe … maybe that’s what you want. You want me to learn on my own, so I’ll be stronger.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Clinging to that hope, my unguided steps somehow felt a little surer as I continued to explore. The buzzing of tiny, unseen life filled my ears. I saw small, featherless, yet fluttery things hovering around flowering bushes, their wide, flat wings shiny and colorful. There were more of the feathered creatures too, some bigger and others smaller than the first one. Their plumage was mostly earth tones, but certain ones had splashes of yellow, red, orange, and one was even dusty blue. Then I saw a four-legged animal seeming to be covered in short, fluffy, grey hair. It had a long, bushy tail that flicked as it bounded from tree branch to tree branch, its movements frantic and hyper. Two similar things scurried by on the ground, except they were light brown with tall, upright ears and round, white tails.

  I laughed and shook my head. The creatures of this world sure are strange!

  The next second, I jumped a bit as a rumbling sound bubbled up from my own body. I stopped, pressing my hands to my middle. My stomach felt uncomfortably hollow. When I’d been attached to my bio-pod, I hadn’t had to eat anything thanks to the support system. I hadn’t thought about what I’d do if I didn’t have access to food. Or water for that matter. Was the food of this world even safe for me to eat? I frowned in thought, glancing around at the plants and bushes and trees. None of them looked edible.

  Guess I’ll just keep going. I’ve got to reach the end of this forest at some point. I reasoned. I’ll find food then I bet, and figure out how to fly, and then … then I don’t know what.

  I was starting to feel oddly lightheaded, and my mouth was dry. I spread my wings a little as I skipped down a craggy slope. Unfurling my feathered limbs to their full spans again, I attempted a few more flaps, not hard ones this time. There was a little less pain, but the trees were too close together and I kept feeling my feathers snag on the low branches. I needed a more open space to practice.

  Some brambles snagged on my dress, and I stumbled a bit when I pulled away. My clothes, which had felt comforting and soft at first, now felt dry and scratchy against my skin. As time dragged on, the cool of the forest began to feel more like a clammy oppressiveness, trapping a suffocating layer of moisture around me. The ambient buzzing of creatures grated in my head along with a slight throbbing that was growing harder to ignore by the second. Was I going crazy? Or was the very air of this world poisoning me somehow? And why now all of a sudden? My wings and shoulders still ached, the feeling spreading down to my arms and the backs of my legs. Another growl echoed in my belly.

  I bumped against the trunk of a tree, scowling like the inanimate lifeform had run into me instead. Shaking my head, I unpeeled my tongue from the roof of my mouth, trying to wet my lips and focus. Walking was so slow. I needed to find a clearing big enough to stretch my wings out and get a handle on this flying thing.

  The winged creatures here make it look so easy, but it can’t be that hard, can it? My kind are born to fly too. Even with no one around to teach me, I should be able to figure it out on my own, right? I thought.

  Stumbling some more, I clambered over a few logs, up a couple inclines, and down some places where weather had worn away the earth. Carefully jumping from one of these eroded points, my legs almost gave out when I hit the ground. My head felt so light the whole forest looked like it was rocking back and forth. My stomach groaned loudly one more time before a wave of nausea sent chills down my whole body. I teetered on my heels, swallowing the sickening feeling and regaining some balance.

  Ugh … what’s happening? Why do I feel so awful? I shook my head again, forcing my trembling legs to move.

  I walked on and, at last, came to an open space of relatively flat ground. Looking up, there was a straight shot past the trees to the sky. Dragging my feet to the middle of the clearing, I rubbed and stretched my shoulders one more time before bending my knees and spreading my wings. With all the strength I could muster, I jumped and flapped all my wings in succession from smallest to largest. For a moment I felt gravity lose its hold, my hearts leaping to cling to the sensation. But a second later, the planet regained its grip on me and forced my feet back to the ground. I grit my teeth, another surge of nausea threatening to bring my knees down too. Fighting it off, I jumped again, gaining a little more height, then fell and tried again. Over and over, I repeated the cycle. Minutes or hours could have passed, but I didn’t care to pay attention. No matter how many times I tried, it seemed like I never got any closer to the sky. I never even reached the tops of the trees.

  On my last jump, I fell hard.

  My legs buckled on contact with the dirt, and I collapsed, all the wind knocked from my lungs. I was soaked in sweat and my skin felt like it was on fire. There was a metallic taste in my throat when I coughed. My mouth and lips were so dry it was like they’d been turned to leather. My insides felt like they were collapsing.

  Blinking blearily, I forced my eyes to somewhat focus when I heard a twig snap off to my left. I could barely make out a largish animal emerging from the foliage. It was beige and white and had four long, thin legs ending in small, dark feet with no discernable toes or claws. Its body was a sinuous rectangle, and it had a fairly long neck leading to a triangular head, teardrop shaped ears sticking out at the sides. The creature gently stepped closer, bending its neck to study me with its large, round, dark eyes, its squarish black nose snuffling.

  What is this thing? I can’t tell if it’s dangerous. Is it going to eat me? I pondered deliriously.

  My vision was swimming with blurriness now, but I swore that, behind the beast, I could make out the now all too familiar shapes of wingless people lurking behind the trees. Another crunching sound came, and the entity in front of me jerked back in alert before leaping over me in a single bound. I tried to move, but it took everything I had just to twitch my fingers. The two-legged forms grew larger as I felt footsteps in the dirt. I thought I heard men’s voices, but my ears were filled with the same throbbing pressure that had taken over my brain. Something lifted me and my head slumped against it, my cheek meeting warm fabric that smelled both musky and clean. It was an oddly comforting smell. The rim of a container was pressed to my lips and sweet, cool relief washed into my mouth. I could barely move my jaws to drink, in a second feeling the lifesaving liquid overflow and run down my chin. I just didn’t have any more energy.

  Am I seriously going to pass out again? I wondered.

  Then I fainted.