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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1940342-A-Perceived-World
Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #1940342
A prince takes a girl to save a kingdom with magic she doesn't know she has.
A Perceived World
By S. R. Brumley

         They looked to the sky as they heard a resounding screech and saw the monstrosity swirling above.  Meeka knew that death would be imminent for her, there would be no escaping.  She shoved her brother to the ground as the dragon lowered and extended its murderous claws to snatch him up, grabbing her instead.  “I love you, Ash,” Meeka screamed as she was violently lifted from the ground.  She ripped at the dragon’s claws in a desperate attempt to escape, to no avail. 

         The dragon thrust its wings straight down, stealing Meeka's breath, as it began a swirling surge that took them higher and higher. Flapping its wings continuously, it made them travel faster until everything blurred and it felt like they were being drawn in by another force within the atmosphere. Meeka closed her eyes and covered her ears in petrified panic while an ear-splitting clap reverberated and they burst through an invisible barrier. The wind snapped and whooshed around them, tossing the dragon, making it almost drop her. It straightened as the violent winds became still. Immediately there was a difference in the air. It was thick with moisture and comfortable warmth. It wasn’t suffocating like her world. It felt... tranquil, ataraxic.

         Opening her eyes, she gasped at first look upon the new world she was forced into. It was nothing like where she came from, or anything she had ever seen before.  Yet it seemed curiously, oddly familiar. She couldn't understand why, when her own world was just a dry, flat, and depressing piece of dirt. Water was scarce, making people kill each other for a single drop. Food was just as difficult to acquire. Fire could take out a whole village within minutes, often ignited by the sun’s intense searing heat. Dragons were the least of their worries, they seldom came to invade. What frequently killed people was the enduring hopelessness.

         This new world, however, seemed to be everything her world could never be. It was pure green. The intensity of the green was overwhelming. As they were soaring through the sky it was difficult to even distinguish one plant or piece of land form the next. It was a mixed blur that had nothing to do with the speed at which they were flying and everything to do with the lusciousness of life. Her jaw dropped in amazement. If I die today, she thought, I will die with a peaceful heart formed from the beauty and awe that surrounds me. She only hoped this wasn’t the day that she met death. She hoped that she wouldn’t feel the pain of being chewed in the gruesome mouth of this heinous beast. She shivered as she imagined the feel of its serrated teeth sinking into soft flesh. Gnawing on fragile, almost sickly, bones. Meeka took a deep breath. Not today, she thought. She would escape this beast the moment they landed and figure out how to get back to her brother, Ashkii. 

         It wasn’t long after her thought that the dragon slowed its pace and lightly took hold of her tunic with its teeth, pulling her from under its body. It brought its legs up, swung its wings inward, and landed on the edge of a steep cliff. Suddenly, it dropped her, making her land on her hands and knees. It snorted and shoved her towards a cave entrance that she hadn’t notice before. Meeka looked over her shoulder at the dragon as she wondered what was to become of her. Was this when it feed her to its offspring? The dragon pressed its nose to her back and shoved her roughly into the cave.  Meeka squealed as she began to lose her balance. Before her face crashed into the ground, she was forcefully stopped. The air whooshed out of her lungs as her body dangled over a muscular arm.

         “Are you alright?” a man asked. She felt his thick muscles tighten as he wrapped his other arm around her waist and placed her back on her feet. He didn't release her until she caught her balance and pulled away.

         “I'm fine, thank you. Where am I? What is..." she turned to look at him and gasped softly when she finally saw his face. He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. All rugged and towering over her with his masculinity. He was broad all over. He was a giant.  Meeka was taller than most women in her tribe and she just barely reached his shoulders.  He had a chiseled handsome face, shoulder length hair the color of onyx stone and eyes of the deepest blue, almost as black as his hair. 

         “Do you not recognize your home, Meeka?” he asked. Her eyes shot back to his at the use of her name. “I am Daastan, Prince of Sabriv. I sent Taamia to retrieve you from Torrian so that you may help me.”  He took hold of Meeka’s hand and drew her deeper into the cave. 

         “I think you have the wrong person. I can't help you. I need to get back to my brother." She pulled at her arm desperately but the man wouldn't let go. 

         “You are without a doubt the Meeka that I seek. You have her eyes, a very rare deep violet. Only female mages can have that color. And your hair is the same earthen brown as your mother’s.” He reached out and touched a strand of her hair, running his fingers along it. She slapped his hand away, making him laugh. “The same spirit as the Meeka I once knew as well.” Daastan winked at her and guided her farther into the cave. 

         Meeka didn't know what to think about all this. It was too overwhelming. From what he said she was a mage that looked like her mother.  How could that be? Wouldn’t she remember if she had a mother and surely she would know if there was magic running in her veins?  And who was Ashkii? Not her brother. Meeka began to shake as she thought about the terrifying heat that was always coursing through her body. She always held the heat back because she didn't know what it was or what it could do. She constantly feared that it would escape of its own accord and hurt someone, like her brother. Every day she actively smothered down the heat, never discussing it, never releasing it. Always ignoring it, or trying to. Wearing gloves because it could burn whatever she touched. It haunted her daily and she never understood what it was.  Was he speaking the truth?  Was she a mage? Did that explain the heat?

         Daastan sighed heavily and shook his head.  “I had hoped that it would be enough to bring you here, but I see by the confusion on you face, that it's not. I'm guessing more has happened to you than we thought. It will take much more than seeing your home. Than seeing me.”

         “What do you mean by that, your highness?” She asked scornfully. Meeka once again pulled at her arm, this time the man released her. 

         “Please, it has always been Daastan between us.” He looked down and sighed. “There were major events in your life, Meeka, some of which I cannot tell you about, events that I would like to always keep hidden from you. But that you will know again. Unfortunately, it's vital for you to remember." He looked at her again and a chill ran down her spine. She could see in his eyes that the events he spoke of were tragic, something that she would never want to remember.

         “Your father did that.  He made sure that you would not remember who you were because he knew you would come back before you were ready.” Daastan laughed softly.  “You were always passionate and spirited as a girl…” he looked deep into her eyes, “I think you still are. It was something I always admired about you.” He took her hand and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles.  She felt a smooth kind of heat at his touch, starting in her hand and moving to her core. Her eyes shot to his and he smiled.

         “What happened to me?  Why was I sent away? Where is my... family?” Meeka asked as she crushed his hand in her own and pulled it to her chest. Daastan moved closer, pulling her into the circle of his arms. She began crying for no reason that she could conceive. Not understanding anything, but knowing that whatever it was, it was monumental to her, devastating even.

         Daastan rubbed her back as he held her. “Your father and two brothers were killed by Naveem, an evil mage. Your father was able to badly hinder him and send you to Torrian with no memory before he died. The kingdom has been safe until now. It is foreseen that Naveem will return soon.” 

         “What of my mother?” she asked against his chest. She braced herself for the pain of losing another person she could not remember. 

         “She is alive… but she desperately needs your help.” Meeka’s head shot up at that.  She pulled away from Daastan and he reached for her hand before she could step away and pulled her deeper into the cave. Meeka began to shake violently, so many things had change in the space of moments. She was breathing heavily by the time she saw light from a small fire. There was a faint raspy sound as they walked closer. Cocking her head to the side she focused on the sound.  It definitely sounded like labored breathing.  As Daastan moved her closer she could see a woman who was obviously very sick. 

         Meeka stopped suddenly as she stared at the woman’s face. It was like she was looking at herself. The woman had the same long brown hair. The same facial features. Cupid bow-shaped lips, high cheek bones, small nose. She could tell that the woman was tall and willowy, just as she was. Her heart quickened in recognition. She might not remember the events that Daastan was speaking of, but she intuitively knew this woman.

         “This is your mother, Marain,” Daastan whispered. Meeka nodded her head as tears ran down her cheeks. Raising his hand, he rubbed the tears away. He looked into her eyes for a moment then reached for the blanket covering her mother. As he lifted it she caught a faint stench coming from beneath. She knew without looking that her mother was suffering from anp infected wound. Looking at the leg she easily noticed the angry red streaks that were surrounding the damaged flesh. The wound was deep and almost putrid.

         “Her leg was injured several days ago and it’s seriuosly infected. I’ve tried draining it and giving her these herbs but nothing is working. She needs you.”

           Meeka’s jaw dropped. “She is very sick, Daastan. She needs a healer.” She backed away from her mother, shaking her head as she turned. Daastan softly grabbed her wrist and turned her back, moving her next to her mother again and pushing her down to sit. 

         “You must help her, Meeka, she needs your magic.”

         “Magic! No, I have no magic.” She shot to her feet again and ran for the cave entrance.  The man followed her, moving in front of her, making her run into him. 

         “Do you not feel that heat of magic in you?” She shivered at the mention of heat.

         “I can't. I... don't know how to use it.” Meeka dropped her head into her hands. 

         “I know you can do this. You’re strong. I can feel the magic in you. I can feel that you're a healer, among other things. I know you have courage and strength. Use your power, Meeks. Save your mother." He smiled as she searched his face.  She wanted to believe him.  She wanted to help her mother and she wanted to believe that she was courageous and strong.

         Daastan pulled her back to her mother and kneeled with her. Meeka reached out her hand to her mother’s leg and placed it over the wound.  “I never knew I had powers.  I don’t know where to start.”  A burst of laughter came from Daastan and he covered his mouth when Meeka gave him a murderous look.  “I’m so glad to amuse you, your highness.”

         He watched her for a moment and sighed. “I apologize. I find it humorous that you cannot just feel it and intuitively know what to do. You were a powerful mage before; it took no effort from your father to teach you to use it.” He covered her hand and looked into her eyes. “Just keep your hand on her leg and think about where she needs to be healed then let the warmth flow from you. You will remember once you begin.”

         Meeka felt a heat begin to build but it had nothing to do with her magic and everything to do with the feel of Daastan’s hand on hers. She gasped and looked into his eyes. He reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear and caressed her cheek. “Trust me.”

         Meeka looked away from his enchanting eyes and concentrated on the heat. She could feel the warmth building and becoming stronger within her. She felt it from the center of her being and could feel it as it moved through her body until it reached her hand. She gasped as she saw a gentle light come from her hand and move to her mother’s leg.  It felt so... heavenly... to finally release the heat, it felt freeing. The light grew brighter as it healed the wound and moved throughout her mother's body, healing the infection, removing the redness. Her mother took a deep breath and the light whooshed out of her and back into Meeka’s hand and soul. Her mother began to breathe normally and color returned to her cheeks. She sighed heavily and fell into a peaceful sleep. Meeka stared at her hand and flexed her fingers, not wanting to believe what had just happened. And knowing her life would never be the same.

         “See… nothing to it.” Daastan smiled at Meeka as she rubbed her chest like she was trying to settle her heart. He watched her as she flexed her hand again. “Are you remembering anything yet?” Meeka nodded her head. 

         She remembered some things now. She remembered her father’s praise and affection and her brothers’ annoying protectiveness and love. She cringed at the memory of the day her father and brothers were brutally killed by the trusted Naveem. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she quickly wiped them away. She didn’t want to remember that she did nothing while they died.

         She moved away and leaned her shoulder against the side of the cave. A sob burst from her lips.  Daastan came to her and took her in his arms. She pressed her face against his chest as she cried for the loss of her family and the realization that she would never see them again.

         “Meeka…” Dasstan said as he tucked her hair behind her ear and brought his hand to the back of her neck, he pulled her closer and kissed her cheeks dry.  “Meeka, you’re your father’s daughter. I can see that you are strong… not only with magic… but with your will as well. We need you and I know you can save us all.”

         Meeka looked up and wiped a tear from her face. “No pressure though.” Daastan laughed and hugged her to him again. She felt the strength she thought she lack from him.  “No one can do this but you, Meeka. I know you have it in you.” She smiled, believing that with him near she just might have the courage and strength and love needed to defeat anything, including her own demons.

© Copyright 2013 S. R. J (sbrum25 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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