Astral Heart: Nameless

Death sings to me just as the plants do. Their song always captures its prey. A song of life and destruction and rebirth. I heard it the day they left with their prisoners, my promise one of them. Now, I hear it calling to me just as my promise used to. Those of us left, wander, questioning how much longer we will survive.

The rich destroyed what we had, leaving the poor and unwanted to endure nature’s hostile and sudden takeover.

My ruin in this world is coming. I’ve never lived this long before. Somehow I’ve made it to my 31st year on a planet with no magic. The power hungry stole or killed it long ago. Without magic, I ponder who will guide me to my new life. Will they take my hand and guide me to a world that is flourishing and magic rich? That is my wish.

Until then, in moments of quiet and as I sleep, my shattered heart travels in search of that which I’ve lost. That which is missing from this overgrown world.

The world in front of my eyes is broken, tall concrete and glass buildings infested with animals and vines. Bridges are in ruin, but luckily most can still be crossed by one individual at a time. I gaze out at a triangular bridge with foot thick wires keeping it together. The deathly river speeds by below, emptying into the nearby ocean. My path is two of those foot-thick wires extending across a half mile long stretch. No rails, no other footing, just two cylindrical bundles.

With a huff, my eyes meet the innocent amber eyes of my wolf companion. He barely reaches my knees since he is still just a few months old, his fur a mix of fluffy and sleek, black as a tourmaline stone. His tail curls up in a semi-circle and his ears pointed high when listening, but flopped over when he was not. My guess was that he was mixed somewhere down his lineage. I found him two months ago, his family slaughtered and eaten by humans. They would have come back and eaten him too, but I took him with me after slaughtering the mortals as they had his family.

“Alright, let’s do this baby boy,” I say and he wags his tail in response. I pick him up and wrap him up in a long piece of fabric I carry with me. Like a human baby, he snuggles in close to my chest, giving me a quick lick on the chin. I take the first step onto the path, praying the wind doesn’t pick up or change directions on this long distance venture. I need to get out of the city. I got what I came for, and now it is back to the wilderness. Less humans, more animals and monsters, but I preferred it that way. The humans were the most dangerous. Animals and monsters I understood. Humans I do not.

The wind howls softly. I make sure to take a steady pace, not rushing the trip. The wires are wet from a storm the night before, so safe is better than us falling to our death below.

“We’ve got this. I can do this.”

“HEY!”

I masculine voice screams. I turn my head to see a group of men geared up with machetes and tactical gear.

“Shit, looks like we have to run after all.”

I hear mumbled screams, and angle my feet on the wires so that slipping to the outside is less likely then I bolt. I’ve gotten really good at running away in the worst situations. It’s been almost eight years since the rich left, and more than thirteen since nature started to take itself back. The amount of times I have had to run is truly countless now.

Almost half way. If I had not needed to stock up on medicine and other essential supplies, I could have avoided these freaks.

“We’ll make it, baby. I promise. I didn’t save you for nothing.”

One foot after the other. That’s all it takes.

Small vibrations echo through the wires but not enough to make me fall. They’re too thick, made to last lifetimes and they have. The sound of metal hitting metal rings across the river, making me wince. I slow myself and look back.

“Fucking hell,” I moan. They are trying to cut the large wires with an axe and machetes. “What assholes, huh baby boy?”

Time to sprint as hard as I can. My legs burn and knees ache with the awkward positioning between the two wires. My wolf pup looks up at me with curious eyes, no idea that we could die.

Faster. Faster.

They shouldn’t be able to break it, but I’m not taking chances, not when that chance could mean my death.

A vibrating twang curses my ears as one of the smaller wires is broken off the bundle. My heart stops, but my legs keep running. My chest tightens. There is no telling where that wire will go, but I cannot stop to look back and try to avoid it. I’m almost there. Almost to the other side of concrete where my motorcycle sits.

So close.

Another twang. My heartbeat pauses.

Five, four, three, two, one. I jump the last with all my might, landing around six feet from the wire path onto the broken concrete and exposed rebar. My feet and legs don’t stop despite the sting and ache and tightening. Straight to my bike. It’s been sunny, so it should be fully charged and ready. I double check the battery, turning the key and swinging my plump leg over using the momentum from running. The engine buzzes to life and we are off. The voices are drowned out, too far away now.

Once I’m safely on the grass occupied road, I slow the bike to see the damage inflicted on the bridge. They destroyed one of the wires, half the smaller wires that make it up were hanging down into the water. They were waving their arms like tiny ants.

“We’re safe now, baby boy. Don’t you worry.”

Even as I say it outloud, I know that it is just a wish, not fact. Whenever I encounter humans, it’s always a random chance. Some are good and will help their fellow survivors, but others have regressed or picked up the traits they used to despise in search of power. Those who did not learn from the mistakes of the elite are the most dangerous.

Our path back to our temporary home is filled with wildflowers, wild berries and lots of animals. Some that I only began to see about a year ago because they were so close to extinction with the humans here. They’ve bounced back now, flourishing without conquering hands.

I stop a few times, picking the berries I know I can eat and ones I know are toxic, careful to store them in a specific container. I use those to coat my blades and arrow tips. It makes death less painful for the animals I must kill to survive and another type of berry that is bright purple is what I use on weapons made for defending myself. It immobilizes humans within seconds and causes them seizures and complete shutdown. Makes it easier to run away.

I also stop in my favorite field to pick medicinal herbs and fresh flowers. I store each in special containers I’ve made to keep them fresh. The only good thing about the rich taking as long as they did to leave was that anyone they did not see as useful for their sky cities lived through the massive plant takeover together. They did not take slaves until later. I was lucky enough to have lived in a community of those who worshiped the old gods with my promise. The village was protected and they had the knowledge to keep surviving even after so many were stolen and left in the spaceship.

They taught me to listen to the plants, their songs of death and life and to recognize which is which. They also taught me how to defend myself, and the ways of old that kept me protected even after I left them.

I shake my head, tears signaling the return of memories I could not afford to lose myself to. We had to get to our temporary home before dark. Just a few more miles and a short boat ride.

We made it to where our boat was hidden, my mind a daze as the memories scratch to be felt and seen. I let baby boy down, he shakes himself and then heads to the water for a drink. I bend down beside him after uncovering the boat loading the motorcycle in. I dip my hands to hydrate myself.

The ocean and fresh water collide where our island base camp resides. I’ve never understood it since there is no visible fresh water source dumping here, but I have realized questioning Innai, the primordial deity of life, vegetation, growth, and earth, is pointless. I cannot comprehend the intricacies of a deity’s power, especially when it still resides on a planet without magic.

Together, we hop onto the makeshift boat. I begin to paddle us toward the tiny island about 2 miles from the shore. Most cannot even see it as it hides in fog most days. Only memory guides me. It’s calm. I thank the ancient deity of water like I was taught and continue though my limbs tremble.

The boat glides up onto the shore. With baby boy by my side, we pull the boat into its safe spot and anchor it. The water rises several hundred feet on this island each night with treacherous waters.

We’ve been here for almost six years.

I swing my leg over the bike, revving the engine once more as little one gets the zoomies on the beach. Using the front of the boat as a ramp, I press the gas, climbing the incline that is our home. Beside me, out around six feet, wolf pup matches my speed, his long legs happily leaping over and weaving through nature. My lips curve up for a moment.

I angle the motorcycle to the left, slowing down to pass by the coral that grows here. At night, it sinks under and lives a normal underwater existence, but during the day it blooms flowers and is a mix of a carnivorous plant and a hibiscus.

When the coral ends, our shelter begins.

Reddish-brown rock rises several hundred feet above my head in a half circle shape, greenery grows along the walls, trees stretch up high while rock formations reach down from above, dripping moisture like a light rain. The buzz of the bike echoes along with little one’s barks. I park the bike in a small alcove where it is safe from the elements, then it’s time to unload all of the supplies.

The cave is massive in both width and length which has made it the perfect place for us. To the left of the entrance, I have nine raised gardens of edible harvests. To the right, a natural hot spring steams. About one hundred feet in front of me, a kitchen and vanity where I have jars and bags full of concoctions for daily and monthly care is carved into the stone. Meat hangs from two different areas, one is a dark cave with low humidity while the other is directly in the sun and not too far from those is a large structure with dried herbs, roots, and flowers.

Here, at the top of the island, the cave opens to an oasis where a large fresh water pond full of fish and other life flourishes. The pinks and purples of the setting sun stain everything.

I head over to the kitchen area and prepare everything. Some items will be used for seeds, others I will can, dry or dehydrate. I pull out the expired medical supplies I was able to find and begin sorting them into categories of topical or ingestible.

Little one runs over to the dried meat and snatches one off the structure. He brings it to me with a wagging tail. My eyes focus on the details of the meat, recognizing it as a smoked whole fish.

“Hungry for some fish, huh? Go eat,” He twirls in a circle before hopping a few feet away and plopping down to devour the fish. I put away the last of the supplies and my feet take me to the dried herbs and meat in the sunlight. I pull a knife from my hip and snap it open.

Scanning the different flavors of sustenance, I ask my body what its hungry for. The response: hunger pains. The sight of a smoked fish, dark red in color and wrapped with a bright green herb mesmerizes me. I cut it loose and bite.

The flavors sizzle in my mouth. The herb is a mix of freshness and heat with a twinge of citrus while the fish is surprisingly savory, falling to pieces.

“Mmm,” satisfaction escapes my throat as I inhale the food. I have delayed fuel for too long. My insides clenched in anticipation. As I swallow the last bit, my muscles begin to relax but still want more. I grab more filets and walk over to the fire pit.

I kick some wood, using my toe to lift it into the air and over the barrier. Four more pieces should get me through the night. I stuff another filet into my mouth, putting the others down on the barrier of stones as I arrange and light a fire using kindling and a lighter I made using harvested fat. The fish lumps in my chest. I hit my sternum with my fist a few times.

Baby boy hops over to my side with his bowl, ready for water himself. I laugh and the cave laughs with me.

“Are you my new alarm? Telling me when to fuel and hydrate?”

He howls, nose high and the sound vibrates. The cave and I laugh again as I take his bowl and place it under a small waterfall that exits through a tiny crack in the cave just behind the kitchen. The hydration hits his bowl with a thunk and he responds with a circle and another howl.

“Drink,” I allow.

My hands form into a cup, but I realize my gloves are off. I look around, trying to remember when I had taken them off. I retrace my actions with my eyes and see them on the ledge of rock I carved out as a counter.

I sigh at myself and begin stripping off my layers of clothing: a leather jacket, a scarf, hood and mask, shoes, socks, and even my tank top gets thrown into a pile that I will wash and treat later. I use the first several handfuls of water to wash my face, hands and back of my neck.

My skin is the color of amethyst, covered in white and black freckles. I don’t have any mirrors which has caused me to forget my face, but my hair is an iridescent crimson devoid of curls or body. It used to be closer to an opaque iridescence, but the moment I took my first life, it bled crimson instead.

I remember thinking and wishing that magic was back, that somehow I had been chosen to wield it.

It wasn’t.

I wasn’t.

Nature came back and you could say the act of working with nature and knowing how to respect it was magic, but I wanted real magic. Magic that could take us to a new world.

I shimmy out of my pants and unwrap my makeshift bra, now completely naked underneath the waterfall. I rinse my body, jolting at a bark. I wipe my face to see my remaining filets hanging from strings out of his mouth. I clicks why I wanted water. The lump had been forgotten, but was still stuck. I opened my mouth and let the water slide down my throat. Once the lump moved on, I reached out to take the remaining food from little one and ate while standing under the water.

“Go eat,” I watch as he prances off.

I sit in the hammock I use as a bed, looking down over the cave. I blink and blink and blink, trying to recall where the rest of my evening went. I vaguely remember taking a bath, but my brain blocks me from anything else.

I laid down, using baby boy’s soft fur as a pillow. He curls up under my neck and around my shoulders, licking my face a few times. I reach over to the shelf I have made to grab my sleep concoctions. A mixture of herbs and flowers, dried and ready to be smoked as well as a tub of scented oil to topically apply and finally, a cup of hot tea I had thankfully made while my conscious brain was shut off.

“Can’t drink sitting down!”

The hammock is located three heights of myself above the ground between two trees and against one of the walls. I’m hidden from any eyes that might travel in and away from the raining rock formations. I built stairs into the rock using bamboo I had found. They were hidden too, behind a wall of vines and trees.

I can feel my consciousness slipping away again, into the monotonous routine it was used to. My heart screams at it to shut off, so it can wander.

My body sways side to side and my eyes close to drift.

“Majesty!”

I jolt awake but there is only darkness.

Darkness?

The edges of my vision slowly allow light in, blinding me with intense brightness. I throw my arm up to block, falling backwards onto a cold floor.

Cold?

I move my arm to see a blur of shadow heading my direction with unnatural speed, the area around me turning back into darkness. My vision is blurry, only filled with shadows and shades of gray. I continue to scoot myself back. Trying to get away, I push myself off the ground and turn to run.

Whack!

I collide with a wall. The sound of shattering glass echoes in my ears.

I hiss, hands on the wall as I fall to my knees.

The darkness stops creeping at my vision and slowly I am able to focus.

My hands...their freckles...are gone?

The skin I was staring was opaque like fogged glass, but parts of my hands and arms were clear. My hair fell beside my head in a long braid, the same crimson iridescence, but I had no freckles, no amethyst coloring, and my limbs feel weak and hollow, like a puppet on a string.

“Why has it stopped?” the voice from before said from behind me.

I raised my hands parallel with my ears and very slowly turned around to see my surroundings instead of the gray of the stone wall. I could not feel any blood coming from my head, but I could feel the skin was broken.

My eyes met glazed black ones with sharp corners and long black and white lashes. Long hair as shiny as polished obsidian fell like fabric to the person’s thighs on either side of their slender, but highly toned body. I swallowed as past memories of my promise entered my mind in flashes.

Their skin against mine, their hands in my hair, my nails digging into their back as our lips hover over each other, throats crying in unison as sensation takes over.

I blink several times, pushing away visions that sting my eyes. My heart clenches and breathing pauses as I imagined the thoughts exploding and floating away as ash.

“Is it crying?!” The voice shrieks, backing away.

I look away from the shadow person to see a shorter, black-horned being whose skin was scales of ruby, hair was vines and eyes were solid white. Red wings rested on their back, similar to a hawk’s. They were the voice I heard, not the shadow person.

“Can you speak?” the shadow asks.

I look back to the shadow being. Our eyes lock and my body freezes.

“Why are you talking to it?”

“Speak,” they say.

“I...I don’t belong here,” spills from my throat.

They both widen and then narrow their eyes in response.

“Get the cage,” shadow orders the other. Once the other leaves, shadow person crouches down to my level but does not come closer.

“What did this body do?”

“Tried to kill me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m...dangerous, a risk factor, a challenge.”

“To who?”

“Your master.”

“I don’t have a master, only a promise,” I whisper.

They pause, eyes locked.

“Wait, did you say c-cage?” I ask.

“The body you inhabit is a puppet, so you only have a master.”

“This isn’t my body. I only have a promise.”

“A promise to who?”

I close my eyes, thinking I’d be blinking away tears, but I felt nothing.

“Puppet tears are internal. Only certain people can see them.”

“I’m n-not a p-puppet.”

I pull my knees to my chest, wrapping myself for comfort.

“Not my body. Not,” I repeat.

“You’re saying your soul is from somewhere else?”

“Heart...t-travels.”

Metal against stone shrieks through the room. Several beings drag a metal container of water into the room. It splashes over the sides.

My heart...is not racing.

I have no physical heart...lungs?

“Heart...it doesn’t have...”

“It’s a puppet and only does master’s bidding.”

“I don’t...puppet...not one..back. I need to return to...and I need to...need to…”

The shadow from before bursts from the being and wraps around the body, covering everything but my vision and holding me level with their gaze.

“You stay. You say there are other realities...”

“...return to...” I whisper into the confinement as my vision fades. I feel the shadow move back from my throat and mouth, but it’s too late.

“You cannot leave!”

My heart is tugged. The shadow envelops and a pressure surrounds. My vision clears for a moment, only to realize I am underwater - inside the cage. My hands press against the side and the other against the top, begging, looking through a small section of glass only to see sparks.

They were sealing me in.

Shadow being walks up to the window and matches their hand with mine.

“You cannot leave!”

I try to take in air, but nothing.

No burn of water.

No racing heartbeat.

No clenching muscles.

The string tethered to my heart aches.