Post by Cambia on Jan 31, 2022 13:33:39 GMT -5
PL: 14,538
Time held no meaning in the void of the unconscious. Space was just as irrelevant, for where was anything to be seen in utter darkness? But memory and thought... oh how they danced a merry dance, twisting and writhing and cavorting about within the mind of the deepest sleeper. A twitch here, a jostle there, signs of proof that she was still among the living, but otherwise as locked in sleep as a prisoner in their cell.
Images and sounds played out within her mind, cloying at her with misshapen claws and tendrils, truth and fact slipping away like grains of sand within the hourglass. What was memory and what was nightmare? What was fiction and what was fact? Which was the dream and which was the reality? Perceptions and recollections shift and scurry away from the light of observation... But always the final fight came clear as crystal. The searing bright heat of the energy coming towards Tabor and Cello, her body moving in the way of the attack... a final plea before she slipped into this cold and at first comforting darkness.
All this time since then she had been shackled by its embrace, her body slowly recovering from the assault that had been placed upon it. Not just her physical self, and not just her energies, but those of her mystical self as well had needed the time to restore themselves. But now... now it was time for the sleeping one to awaken to the world once more.
Cambia's eyelids flickered for a moment, a soft groan escaping her throat as for the first time in months light, true light, did begin to pierce the veil. She slowly raised an arm to shield herself from the burning light above her, hissing at the aches she felt from unused joints and muscles. The blonde Konatsian could swear she felt something... soft beneath her. Not the softness of grasses no... No, this was something more akin to fabric? And whatever it was was on top of her as well, but thinner...
She opened her eyes and looked down and around herself, before the answer became as clear as the daylight streaking in through a window across from her. She was lying in a bed, with a blanket draped across her form.
"Urgh... wh-where am I?" Cambia croaked out, her throat dry and sore from lack of use. The momentary confusion of her surroundings immediately gave way to panic and anxiety, fear-laden adrenaline surging through her as she bolted upright in the bed.
"Where's Shakuhachi?! Is everyone alright?! Ollo... Geist... Tabor, Cello?" the Konatsian inquired, already trying to force herself out of the bed before falling to the floor, scraping her elbows in the process. The sharp pain caused her to hiss between gritted teeth, her body's own senses catching up to her minds own.
Word Count: 475