It was as if the two of them were floating, traveling within their dreams. In the cloud covered sunlight, they felt themselves moving high above the Earth, and heading towards the Great Sea. The sea and the sky became one, clouds and water within a mist, washing them.
They were lost in this other world, but it was not unpleasant. Floating brought peace, and there was no time here, just the moving through the mist of blue. The smell of water.
But as they moved through this other world, the sun pierced their consciousness, and began shining on their faces. As they returned to their bodies, the warmth brought back their spirits, and woke them, as if from a very deep sleep.
Her small gentle hand touched his shoulder, and she was surprised by the power of his blood, the thickness of his fur. He had finally found her and fought his way to Spain, enduring the attacks from creatures of the night.
She accepted his repentance on a level most could not comprehend. The lies were over. She could sense so much love now in his heart as her hand went further to his chest.
His wolf beauty nearly took her breath away as her light ignited, healing the wounds. Unconscious he barely knew she was there. Yet in his sleep he felt her presence.
Each wound, each particle of pain was taken. Exhausted when the restoration was done, Emma fell asleep on his massive chest, barely noticing he had shifted back to human.
She tucked in her wings, sighing in her sleep contented.
Emma held the light of dawn within the palm of her hand. Turning it, this way and another she separated the ball into two, allowing it to infuse both her hands and down into her arms. She believed in God, but where was He when we were hurting?
She was more spirit now, than bones and skin, and yet she was hurting all over. The light continued its warmth through her and questions faded, while grey pain morphed into blue. A blue from the sky?
It was only beginning, this journey. The blood of Palermo would fade, and she realized she was being made new every morning. Wings began to thicken, becoming more than barely visible membranes. It was impossible to tell who she would be later this year.
She sighed looking out over the foothills, just north of Milan….searching, yet at peace.
In the starkness of the grey dawn, within the shadows of her heart, Emma hovered above the stone walls in the strength and immensity of her own wings. Palermo was such an ancient city, filled with mysteries.
She was searching for the one, the one who said he would love her, a promise made.
Yet something told her…..to wait.
And there…..he was running in the courtyard……chasing a rabbit? He quickly began changing unaware she was watching, and became more and more of jaw, and fangs and fur. A wildness took over his eyes. And then…..she looked away devastated. Sensing the pain.
She had seen it all and decided she would never know the strength of his thighs, the sweetness of his breath. He would never touch her. He had told her he was not violent, and he lied.
He was nothing but horror and blood. Part wolf she could understand, but a liar? A killer? Never.
She quickly summoned more of the grey clouds to hide her escape. Calling forth the wind and the rain, thinking they would cleanse her of what she had seen and her stupidity for trusting him. She drew herself in, with the comfort of her wings. She aimed for Milan.
He never knew she found out his secret, only that there was something strange in the wind that day, and in the rain…..
I’ve never been attracted to Hogwarts and dragon tails. Yet there is a certain adventure to the supernatural, isn’t there? We can be taken so quickly to another world.
For example, Emma the Time Traveler is now flying over the Mediterranean, high in the sky surfing a wind wave, to escape the dangerous auburn-haired Countess. She woke one night to find the Countess breathing on her neck. Is the Countess actually a vampire, or is there some other explanation?
And did Emma actually hear wolves and eagles speaking?
Wait! Isn’t this a poetry blog?
When I think of the different rivers within me, there are several of them holding amazing colors and filling me with beautiful possibilities. Men don’t usually write like that, and that’s ok. Yes, Rivers Renewed is a poetry blog and it is about renewal, seeking peace, and wholeness in our broken world. I think I will always let this site stand as it is right now. I love this site.
Have I outgrown it? Probably. We are more than just one river, each of us has many. So for me I will find additional ways to share the fiction river running strong. Another website?
I’ve never been held prisoner in Belgium, yet the nights here are quite strange. I found there is more than one phantom flying over the castle at night. I can never see them when I’m a human though, only when I’m a bat or an owl. In other words, a creature of the night.
And the Countess is a bit of an oddball to be honest. Young and beautiful, but constantly whispering under her breath. I’ve caught her watching me several times. And once…..out of the corner of my eye……
I thought I saw her walking through a wall, her long auburn hair the last bit of her flowing through. Is she even real? To be honest, I don’t know.
Yet form changing, in your time you call it “shape shifting” is a new skill for me, and being an owl is magnificent! These wings! And at night I can see everything for miles.
So for now I avoid the Countess, and I sit in one of these very tall trees that have been here for hundreds of years. My favorite are the elms.