by Jen Valena
“Hmm.” Ithia considered his improbable statement. “No. I do recall that part. I was pulled out of my body and into space. I’m definitely dead.”
“Something else happened.”
“Agree to disagree!”
Tyrsten wanted to laugh at the stubbornness of this young woman. It almost equaled his own.
“And I—” She stopped, realizing that the language she was speaking wasn’t her own. She understood everything clearly, but when she listened to the words coming out of her mouth, it was as if she was dubbed. “Ha! How can I be speaking a language I don’t know? You see now? I must be dead.”
“Once the toxins completely leave your system, then you will conclude you are alive.”
Although her eyesight was still fuzzy, Ithia’s attention focused and took in her surroundings. She was in the physical realm. The thick fog of the hut was steamy and warm, which didn’t help her grogginess. Turning her head, she saw a small pool to her left that looked like a natural hot spring. Massive candles with aged wax stood along the interior walls, casting a thousand refractions and dispersing tiny rainbows. The hearty smell of herbs and fragrant oils mingled with the humid air.
She noticed her body, and unmistakably, she did have one. Maybe I’m not dead? she thought. “What is going on here?” With the room so warm, she hadn’t felt how revealed she was, wearing only a tightly wrapped, loosely woven, wet fabric that clung to her every curve.
“If I’m not dead…” She squirmed to free herself. “What’s going on?”
She made a failed effort to get up by bending at the waist. Her wrap was too tight. She descended quickly, but Tyrsten caught her and lowered her back to the mat.
“You are safe, for now, as long as you do not hurt yourself.”
“Likely story. You probably already did—something!”
“I assure you, I did not. I have no interest in taking advantage of your body.”
“Don’t pull that reverse psychology stuff on me, buddy.”
“I am not going to harm you.”
Ithia took a deep breath. “Where am I?”
“Everything will be explained. For now, please rest.” He placed his hand over her forehead. A breeze fell over her and without challenge, Ithia was asleep.
Tyrsten easily found Samara by her white-blonde hair that shone in the moonlight. “It has been over a day-cycle, and she is not healed.”
Samara raised her eyebrows. “Patience.”
“She rambles, believing she is like a caterpillar.”
“Appropriate choice to associate herself.” Samara’s voice turned grave, “You must come to terms with the outcome that she may never truly recover, as the toxin might have had a negative effect during the Actuation. Perhaps damaged her permanently. It even made you ill. The Actuation should not have happened that way. She was unprepared. More importantly, you were unprepared.”
“When I grasped what was occurring, I tried to put a halt to it, but it was no use.” Annoyance at himself laced his defense.
“The results of an Actuation performed under these conditions are unknown.” Samara hesitated. “And perhaps she should have never received an Actuation, even if it was performed properly.”
“But why would I have visions of her?”
“We can only wait to see what will unfold.” Samara sighed and softened her approach, “I am inclined to trust your instincts about what Quanen shared with you. However, do not be blinded by eagerness, believing you found your answer. Tyrsten, be patient and compassionate. If she is who you think she is, then her espousal will be the only way you can achieve your objectives.”
“I can manage a bit of kindness.”
✹ ✹ ✹
Samara was attending to Ithia when she came out of her slumber. Singing a chant, eyes closed, her arms hovered over Ithia’s wrapped body. Samara’s voice soothed as if waves of energy flowed from her song. Her hands washed Ithia’s aches away. The energy gave Ithia the sensation of floating.
Ithia regarded the unusual woman. Her long, draping hair, devoid of any pigment suggested white gold. A pleasant face—delicate, clear and serene—one that belied an age, both youthful and mature. She would have guessed the woman to be in her forties. Ithia sensed the woman was unflappable. That reassured her.
Reluctantly, Ithia interrupted Samara’s song, “What are you doing?”
“Helping you, dear one.” Samara opened her eyes, the palest eyes Ithia had seen, with a hint of blue-gray.
Ithia was unsettled by the brilliance they emanated. She asked timidly, “Who are you?”
“Samara, Guardian of the Healing Springs. Tyrsten brought you here to recover from your trauma.”
“Why did those men kidnap me?”
“Tyrsten will explain.”
“Yeah, about Tyrsten.” Ithia glanced around the room to check if he was there. “What’s the deal with him?”
Samara was confused. “The deal?”
“What’s his story? How is he involved in all this?” Ithia’s suspicions of him started to form. It wasn’t everyday she was abducted, abducted again and taken to a strange hut.
“Tyrsten will have to tell you his story.”
“Where am I?”
“Tyrsten is a better judge of what you need to know.”
Ithia wasn’t appeased by Samara’s answers, but she spotted a hopeless cause and gave up that line of questioning.
Samara freed her from the bindings. Ithia, embarrassed, used her hands in an attempt to hide her nudity.
“What was that gauze for? And why did you let a man in here while I was basically naked and vulnerable?”
“The gauze pulled the toxins out of your skin and had the added benefit of preventing you from getting up and harming yourself further. As for Tyrsten, he is not just any young man. I am sorry if his presence upset you, but he insisted on staying so that he could monitor your health.”
“My health.” Ithia groaned. “I bet.”
Samara handed her a bundle. “Your old garments will attract too much attention. It will be best to blend in as much as you can, now that—” She stopped and evaded direct eye contact.
A twinge of anxiety sprang within Ithia.
Samara rushed out, leaving Ithia to dress.
Ithia unfolded the bundle to reveal a long chemise of deep green with a wide bell shape, embellished with a brocade trim, a bodice of brown leather, long bloomers, and thick stockings. Simple leather knee high boots were propped near the door.
The outfit was straight out of a dream. She glanced around for her faded jeans, t-shirt and sneakers. She would concede to the dress, for now, but only until she found her own clothes. She wasn’t fond of dresses, but she was fond of traipsing around naked in public even less.
✹ ✹ ✹
As she slipped on the boots, she reflected again on how she could have ended up in such a strange situation.
Before she had been captured by those strange men, Ithia remembered that day she had locked the door to her house—unusual for her. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being spied upon.
She had made her way through the undeveloped fields that surrounded her property, ambling along the trail with tall eucalyptus trees and sagebrush to the top of the hill, a mile from her home. Ithia had followed it out of habit, running her hands along the shrub sage as she walked, paying no heed to the fragrance. She barely noticed the lizards scurrying out of her path, the breeze teasing her hair or leaves that turned their backs on green for a more seasonable shade of gold.
This wasn’t like her.
Ithia always connected with nature more than with other humans. She went through friendships like disposable gloves. Mother Nature was a more agreeable match to her solitary personality.
One exception to her inattentiveness that day was a large raven that followed her. The black bird made a joke out of gravity by gliding effortlessly overhead, barely flapping its wings. She had envied it.
It had landed on a high branch of her tree, an
d peered down at her, cocking its head to get a better view. Couldn’t it tell she wanted to be alone?
She had ducked down under the low slung bough and unfolded her blanket. Not worrying about falling asleep in the dark since it would be almost a full moon, she had let her head settle against the ground and stretched out her legs.
Sure, she had no prospects: no family, no real skills, no support system to launch the rest of her life. She didn’t like to dwell on the negative, but that was all she could see at the moment. Her eyes stung with held tears.
“What am I supposed to do with my life? What am I here for?” she called out to the heavens not expecting an answer. If there were such things as angels, she hoped they weren’t laughing at her.
Ithia wished she hadn’t often ignored Gramps’ life advice. She could use some general guidance on what to do. But she had been a stubborn child, not paying attention. Obstinate, was what he called her.
What would he say to me now?
She guessed he might have imparted one of his many adages, “Sometimes life is out of control. It is how you deal with that chaos that reveals your true character.” That still didn’t help much at the moment as to actually what to do.
Ithia resigned herself to hear what Tyrsten had to say for himself, but her cooperativeness would likely end there.
Emerging from the underlit interior of the hut, she squinted into the intense sunlight that seemed to gleam across the sky. Light was coming at her from everywhere. Even the plants and trees sparkled.
Once she adjusted to the radiance, she saw how crisp the world appeared. Every edge of every leaf was sharply defined. The world was overpowering—potent—acute. She flinched at how vivid it was.
Her hand went to adjust her glasses, but she found none on her nose. How was this possible? Without her eyeglasses, objects in the distance were always blurry. Now she had perfect vision.
Conifers and cottonwood trees were densely spread around the retreat, with no signs of a road to the Springs. She couldn’t see how anyone managed to find this place. A few wooden huts dotted the small clearing, covering other hot springs. Crawling ivy grew over most of them. Directly ahead of her stood a building different from the rest. It was large and charming, made of adobe brick, covered in a thick, white clay plaster with an archaic, thatched roof. It resembled a quaint European inn.
Fascinated with her new visual stimuli, Ithia barely noticed Samara and Tyrsten involved in a discreet discussion.
When Tyrsten caught sight of the new arrival, his posture and broad shoulders straightened ever so slightly. “I am glad to see you are feeling better.”
Ithia now stared at Tyrsten as if seeing him for the first time. There was something familiar about him. He stood six feet tall with a muscular but sleek frame. Raven-black hair swept around his face in soft waves. He dressed in a loose, midnight blue shirt that laced up in the front, and matching brown leather doublet and pants. The rich tones enhanced his honey-colored skin, giving him an earthy, grounded appearance. He emanated an air of importance as if waiting for someone to paint his portrait. Ithia wasn’t sure if this was confidence or arrogance. Outwardly, his personality appeared warm, but Ithia sensed a cool disconnection toward her.
He means to hide something from me, passed through her mind.
Her attention fell onto his eyes to search for his secret. His eyes were like nothing she had seen before. They glinted like a clear night’s sky, black and filled with stars. She wondered if she was hallucinating.
In a rush, she remembered what had taken place in the cave. She had fallen into those eyes, in a state of complete surrender. She flushed pink and quickly averted her gaze.
Tyrsten noticed her fearful motion. “It will not happen again.”
An anger welled up inside her. “What did you do to me?”
With her hostile reaction, he realized that this might be more complicated than he had anticipated. “I am sorry for what occurred… in the way that it did.”
Ithia pondered how he had phrased his apology.
Samara detected the tension building. “Would you like to freshen up in my quarters, dear one?”
Ithia was overcome by the calming, liquid essence of Samara’s voice and nodded in agreement.
“You may find that you are not exactly as you remember,” Samara said cautiously.
Ithia’s hands went to her face. It was the one thing she hadn’t seen of herself since the abduction. Alarm rose up in her. She ran into the house to see what had changed.
Tyrsten shot Samara a frustrated glare.
“I thought it best to warn her.”
Inside, Ithia frantically located a mirror.
Her eyes.
They were no longer her eyes. They had changed to look like his—Tyrsten’s star-filled black irises.
“How?” she whispered to herself. Whatever had occurred in the cave must have altered her. “What has he done to me?” A feeling of violation filled her.
She searched her face for other new phenomena, but nothing was noticeably different. She felt her ears, but they hadn’t grown elfin points.
There was a subtle difference about her reflection though. She was unsure if it was the lighting in the room or only due to her newly acquired eyes. The words, “Who are you and what are you doing here?” found their way out of her mouth.
She stormed out of Samara’s dwelling and right up to Tyrsten. “What happened to me?”
“It will be difficult to explain.”
Ithia placed her fists on her hips. “Then you better start talking!”
“Calm yourself.” He put his hand on her shoulder.
Ithia knocked it away. “Don’t you dare tell me what to do.”
Tyrsten took a wary step back. “I understand your reaction, however it is best that you do not overexert yourself. Perhaps, eat some food—”
Ithia cut him off. “Again, you’re telling me what to do.”
“I will explain everything that I am able to.”
She sensed a sincerity in his voice, a willingness to tell her what he could. That was a start. But she promised herself to listen even more closely to what he wouldn’t explain. She speculated there was going to be more to his story than he would freely divulge.
She unclenched her fists and confessed, as her stomach growled, “Fine. I am hungry.”
4 ✹ Second Birth
A thousand stars explode and float in my mind.
They rupture space and time and
sparkle their haunting laughter in my eyes.
— Ithia Sydran
Ithia and Tyrsten quietly ate breakfast. She taunted her eggs with a fork. She was hungry, but her stomach, since it was attached to her frustrated brain, wasn’t in the mood to digest what was being offered. She glanced warily at Tyrsten and waited for him to start the conversation.
“I gather by your lack of appetite that you are not feeling entirely better.” Tyrsten gave her a guilty expression.
Ithia noted he didn’t seem particularly interested in his food either.
“The bread will settle your stomach.” He divided a small, fresh-baked loaf and handed her half.
Ithia didn’t look directly at him, nervous about his unusual eyes. She examined the bread in front of her. Normally, she would have delighted in fresh bread. She took a small bite, swallowing hard.
Another lull of quiet.
Why hasn’t he begun to explain what is going on?
Ithia bit down on the inside of her lip trying her best to be patient. It was no use. She couldn’t stand waiting another second. He needed a nudge to get going. “Start from the beginning.”
Tyrsten set his fork down, pushed his plate aside and took in a deep breath to concentrate on what he was going to say. His face filled with compassion and perhaps a touch of fear of her potential reaction. “You were abducted by men from my world.”
“Wait, what?” Ithia interrupted. “Your world?” In her head, a gang of questions raced around and fought each other
for first position.
“You are not on Earth anymore.”
She glanced around. It had to be Earth. Although something was slightly wrong. This truth registered in her heart, but it made no sense to her brain. Her mind did the only thing it knew to do with this information—deny its premise.
“There are, what we could call cracks or portals, where the veil is thin, where our separate worlds overlap. Intersect. Through one of these, you were pulled here. Those men found a portal and then you.”
Her aggravation about this whole wild scenario grew. Her pulse pounded faster. If it wasn’t true, she couldn’t account for what she was experiencing: men in strange armor; a disturbing quiet as if all the electronic waves of the modern world had been turned off; the plants were healthier than she had become accustomed to on Earth; and her new eyes. “Why me?”
“Why you—I cannot say with any certainty.”
“They thought I was dangerous.”
Tyrsten sized her up a moment. The vehement intensity of a cornered cat shot right back at him. He nervously smiled ever so slight. “Well, you might just be that.”
“Are you messing with me? You think this a joke?”
“This is no trick. You may have heard of a theory of multiple realities. A multiverse. Overlaid upon each other. You are now in one of those other worlds, similar, but not yours.”
“But that can’t be.”
“It is.” He continued, “There are many divergences in the way our worlds operate. Even though it is similar to Earth, Ma’thea is distinct from Earth in numerous ways.”
Ithia picked at her bread, pinching off little crumbs in hopes of leaving a trail to find her way back to her sanity. “Let’s assume what you’re saying is true. How would you know about my world compared to yours? Have you been to Earth?”
“I have not been there physically, but I—”
“Physically?”
“That is a complex explanation for another time. I have a cursory education about Earth through my Master Sauvant. He taught me some of the information he obtained on his journeys.”