Nyxara
—Nyxara's Bedroom—
When I climbed my way to consciousness, my body felt so heavy I could only lie there looking at the ceiling. The cool darkness of the room let moonlight slip through the blinds in pale bands that crossed the ceiling, sparkling off the crystals of the chandelier. The longer I was awake, the less weighed down I felt. With a sigh, I turned onto my side, catching a whiff of Aspen's scent—sage and vetiver—lingering faintly in the air.
The scent was strong enough to indicate that he had just stepped away. As my senses slowly came back online, I could hear the sink running, indicating my brother was just in the bathroom. I relaxed, feeling exhausted but not in pain. I let sleep pull me back into its embrace. Aspen may have softly called out to me, but I don't know for sure.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Unseen to all on this plane of reality, somewhere deep within Nyxara, a hidden answer to the world's prayer flickered awake. Not a flare. Not a revelation. Just a pulse. Astral essence folded around Nyxara's body like coruscant glitter. It coated her, then sank into her body undetected before Aspen returned to keep vigil.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[Dreamscape]
I'm pacing back and forth in a bathroom. I can barely breathe through the choking feelings of anxiety and irritation. The sound of my footsteps sounded wrong—soft, muffled— as though the walls were padded or the world itself was holding its breath.
Everything gleamed too brightly. Polished surfaces caught the light and fractured it into shards.
The sounds of merriment could be heard nearby. Familiar. Minette, her collective of robo-barbies, male voices —distantly familiar— could be distinguished, but the one voice I was hoping to hear was absent. Again.
I turned when I heard the humming of a familiar melody coming from the mirror.
Leaning towards the mirror, I saw my family sitting at our main residence dining table with the Kin-Branch. They were smiling. But the bond between them—I could see it now—was cracking. Hairline fractures running through something that should have been whole.
I watched from the doorway and knew, with sudden certainty, that I had to make a choice, or else our legacy would be destroyed.
The scene lurched. I was in a garden now, hands clasped with someone whose face refused to resolve. His scent—veiled myrrh, pale ashstone, and something ancient—was enticing. It was strange that this scent wasn't his everyday scent. The more time we spent together, the more his scent would shift to this enticing three-layered one. Despite the headaches he would get, he told me he would take this pain in exchange for these quiet moments with me.
So I didn't question the change. Just let it be a little secret and confirmation that we were fated mates. The warmth of his hand was real, anchoring, and it filled my chest with a sense of belonging so sharp it hurt. I tried to speak—to ask their name, to hold on— but the scene splintered.
The training yard snapped into place.
Sunbeams in my eyes. Sweat on my brow. Keir's voice cut clean and precise through the air, correcting my stance before I realized I'd shifted wrong.
Across from me, a man moved with a glaive like it was an extension of his body. The weapon shimmered faintly, essence singing along its edge. I felt like I was familiar with him, but I couldn't hear his name when Keir spoke to him.
I stumbled. The man attacked my open side. Yet my body moved faster than it should have—stepping between strikes, slipping through space like it had learned a shortcut I hadn't consciously learned yet. Starlight flared around my feet. Pale. Ethereal.
Keir and the man examined me critically. "When did you get so good at Veil Step, Nyx?" The man asked curiously. I opened my mouth—nothing came out.
I blinked, and the yard dissolved from around me.
Shelves rose around me in its place, endless and familiar. My library. New books bound in leather. Crystal sigils suspended in glass orbs. Threads of essence humming softly in the air as Zen created a visual display for our lesson.
Zen was explaining node convergence and leyline theory, her voice steady and earnest. I watched her lips move—I couldn't hear what she was saying, but I somehow knew if I wanted to know, I could. No, what held my attention were the threads of light display pulsing between Zen's fingers.
This was important. Node convergence and leylines were important for me to understand. Despite how important it was, my attention was diverted to the fact that I wasn't only seeing Zen's essence display. I was also seeing essence she wasn't casting.
I looked around, and I could see essence everywhere. In the air, shimmering. Outside, glowing and flickering. Looking down, I could see the fine, luminous strands woven beneath the floor. It was everywhere and a part of everything.
Including myself. Instinctively, I reached for the leyline node beneath the ground. The air shuddered, and my hand passed through the threads like a ghost just as the room blurred into motion.
When everything came into focus again, I was in a kitchen.
Night pressed softly against wide windows, amber lights casting warmth over polished stone counters. Six figures stood around or sat next to me, their faces obscured but their presence unmistakable. Each aura hummed with power, colors flickering in shades I didn't yet have words for.
Someone was telling a story, which made them all laugh.
The sound pleased me in a familiar way that bypassed memory and went straight to instinct. One of them handed me a cup. Warm. Comforting. His scent—clove and dark cedarwood—relaxed me to the point I reclined more into the embrace of the man on the other side of me.
I feel safe. Not just safe. Wanted.
My hand lifted on its own, reaching for the one who had just handed me the cup. "No spoilers, little Nexus." A gentle but firm whispering wind tugged me backwards, tipping my seat.
I float among the stars. Grey is somehow here too.
Not fully present. But unmistakably her. "Don't worry,"Grey says gently."During the ritual, we will exchange memories. While we exchange, we will talk so you have context about certain memories."
I tried to respond, but I could feel the dreamscape already ejecting me back.
Nyxara
[Tuesday, Umbrafall 9, 4310]
I woke with a sharp inhale, sweat cooling on my skin. The room was still dark, quiet except for the steady hum of instrumental music playing softly. I can still feel the dreams lingering at the edges of my awareness. Like shadows reluctant to leave.
My hands trembled faintly. I felt energized and tired at the same time. The warmth of the cup still tingled my fingertips. "Nyxara?" Aspen's voice came softly from nearby. "You alright?"
I blinked, orienting slowly, then nodded. "Yes…no…maybe." Aspen's expression tightened with concern, but he didn't push. He looked like he would wait until I was more present before asking again. My body was waking up faster than my mind. It made its desire for food very clear with a loud rumble. I asked Aspen if I could have something to eat. Since I'm not ravenous I'm guessing I haven't been out for too long.
Aspen produced a lap table with food and glass of water already prepared on it. He then sat back down to stare at me with slow blinking eyes. So he is just going to sit there staring at me while I eat? Not going to give me some unsupervised time to resettle into my body?
I glared at him as I ate and envisioned in my head all the ways I would torture him for being so rude. He must have sensed the direction of my thoughts because he wrote in the air while smiling,