Chapter 20: Andromeda

“I…I’ll bring you something back.”

Andromeda nodded silently as she leaned against the wall, clutching a shawl wrapped over her shoulders. Her mother stood at the door, preparing to leave. She was cloaked in a bright blue dress, an especially expensive one that she had been wearing all day. The lush fabric grazed the ground as small pearls studded the hem. Her mother’s wavy blond hair was fixed at the top of her head. Simple, yet elegant. Andromeda and her mother had been invited to multiple parties during both the day and night, yet Andie refused to attend every one of them—even the solstice night festivals that were just beginning to commence.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come, Andie? We can give you a strong tonic.”

Andromeda shook her head, her arms crossed against her torso. “You know well enough that won’t do anything, Mum. It’s better for me to stay.”

A gloomy silence filled the room, and Andromeda stared down at her feet. She knew that if she peered out the window, she would be able to see the seaside market in the distance, ablaze with activity and color and light. She knew that the villagers were indulging in food, dancing to music, and adorning themselves in fancy dresses. Yet here she sat, in her simple wear, seeing her mother off to the festivities with her friends. Andromeda managed to convince her to go with them, though it was more of a plot for her to be alone than for her mother’s enjoyment. Andromeda’s outburst a few days prior had been replaying in her mind for days—it would do good for her to be by herself.

And maybe go for a swim…

“All right.” Her mother paused, nodding with a hint of disappointment. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Enjoy yourself, Mum. Please, don’t rush yourself for me. Take all the time you wish.”

With a nod and a half-hearted attempt at a smile, her mother slowly opened the door, and stepped out with careful strides. She heard a soft thud as she was left alone. Andie somberly stared at the closed door, before turning her head to the window. Silently watching her mother walk further away, Andromeda craned her neck past the rim until the blue dress disappeared over the road’s bend.

Once she knew she was gone, Andromeda immediately sprang off the wall and hustled up the stairs, rushing to her bedroom. She quickly tore off her clothes, and pulled on an old pair of shorts that reached just above her knees. Andromeda tossed on a worn short-sleeved shirt, wrinkled from the salt of the sea. Loosely slipping on her sandals, she hastily braided her long, caramel hair, and pushed it away as it trailed down her back.

She swiped a lantern from the hall and brought it to the kitchen, lighting it with the flames of one of the burning candles. Grabbing a quill, she scrawled a note for her mother in case she decided to return early.

Mum, if you manage to come home before me, I just went out for a swim. Please don’t worry, I promise not to stay out too long. I hope you enjoyed the solstice.

Andie

Andromeda carried the lantern in front of her, her eyes straining in the light, and left the house from the back doorway, greeted by the distant swaying palms and ocean winds. A hidden path winded its way through the trees, one Andromeda was greatly familiar with. She took a deep breath, desperately trying to shove away the despair of missing the solstice.

It’s better I stay here and avoid scaring people away, she thought, but it didn’t comfort her as much as she wished.

It was always the biggest holiday of the year for Andromeda. Each year, her father would be home for the festivities at the docks, and Andromeda would get to spend time with him in the light of the celebration. She remembered walking with her family, her memories blending together in a colorful blur, before breaking off with the younger people her age, and spending the night at the beach together. With the memories of laughter and music echoing in her mind, Andromeda carefully stepped out of the palms, the infinite beach stretching out before her.

Now her father wasn’t able to come here at all. They had received news of his shipwreck near the northern seas, and a letter from him to assure his safety.

I should have been there, she thought briefly. I should have been with him.

Her father had offered to take her on his last fishing trip before he had departed a few months prior. Despite having learned the ways of fishermen all her life and observing her father and his marketing skills, she had refused, for some silly reason. Maybe she was afraid of leaving her mother alone. Maybe it was the looming unknowns of the far seas.

Though, maybe her choice hadn't been so foolish after all. The cursed dreams had begun to show themselves some short weeks later. What a problem that would have been.

There was no possible way for him to visit the Aquae Court this holiday, and Andromeda had never felt more distant from her mother and her life. The only stable thing she had was the sea.

How ironic.

Walking down the sandy beach, her feet left deep tracks behind her as she sunk into the wet ground. She dropped the bright lamp a good distance away from the waves, nestling it into a bed of sand. The sun was long gone by now.

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Kicking off her sandals, she dug her toes in the warm, soft grains of the shore and took a deep breath of salty, comforting air. Breaking into a stride, Andromeda ran straight for the water, jumping past the shallows, and plunged herself into the deep.

The cool water shocked her body, sending a shiver down her spine as she froze for a moment. Her eyes blinked open, taking in the sight of the dark, vast unknown, the bright moon her only guidance. She was surrounded by water, yet it never entered her body. Instead, she took in clear air, as if she were breathing normally above.

Immediately, she felt herself begin to relax, the heavy load of her world muting under the water. Her ears popped as usual. The movement of her limbs was slowly beginning to warm her in the cold water. Her hair trailed up around her, and she loosened the braid, letting the long strands float over her head, like leaves in the wind.

Staring up, she could barely make out the blurred stars above her, winking down as they broke through the shadowy blanket of the night sky. It was getting impenetrably dark, but she didn’t worry. She took a deep breath, and basked herself in the water.

After a few minutes, she propelled herself forward, following the long beach to her left. A small smile broke on her face as she swam, her eyes growing heavy as all the cares in the world started to melt away.

✦✦✦

Her eyes flew open, all senses of time vanishing. Andromeda frantically looked around, perplexed at her new environment. Instead of being plunged in water, she was firmly on her own two feet, the cold air piercing her lungs.

Realization hit Andromeda quick, and she glanced down, her body and clothes somehow completely dry. Her hair hung lightly without the dampness weighing it down, completely free of its braid. She appeared to be in some sort of forest, a bitter wind cutting through the tall pines. It was clearly nighttime, the dim sky cloudy and hiding the moon.

“No. No, no, please not now!”

With a frustrated groan, Andromeda’s voice echoed in the realm. She had fallen asleep while she was out at sea. She knew that at that moment, her body was floating aimlessly in the ocean while she was stuck in this constructed world of her mind. Her Gift would keep her alive, but it wouldn’t be long before it burned itself out. Not to mention the cold water—her body would soon begin to lose its heat.

“What the hell do you want from me?” she yelled into the sky.

With no response, she resentfully set off into the woods, her bare feet rubbing against the prickly rocks and dirt. This dream felt a little more solid than the others, and she winced as hidden branches scratched her arms and exposed legs. Not entirely sure where she was headed, she plowed through the dark woods, anger and quiet desperation with each breath.

Andromeda shivered. It was much colder here than in the real world, and her basic clothing did nothing to shield her from the biting wind. She continued to trek the terrain, clutching her arms to keep herself warm. She needed to figure out what her mind was trying to show her now. Maybe if she cycled through this dream quickly, she’d wake up in time to swim back home.

After a few long minutes, she finally saw a dull radiance in the distance. As she approached the glowing light, a faint crackle began to become louder and louder. Breaking into the clearing, she saw a roaring campfire sitting in the center, surrounded by a pile of disarrayed supplies. It was a setting straight out of a storybook, waiting for its characters to walk in.

Seeing no one nearby, she picked her way through the items, finding coats, blades, flasks of water, and small pouches filled with credits and marks. There was even a small pile of hair ribbons, discarded near a pair of boots. Spotting a particularly large cloak—one of soft, dark grey wool—she quickly grabbed it and wrapped herself in its warmth, inching closer to the fire.

Sitting down on a log, Andromeda stared into the flames, her mind racing. She knew she had to wake up, and soon. With no sense of time, she could only guess how long she had been asleep. The idea of waking herself up was tried and done, from yelling to flailing to pinching herself in her other dreams. Even so, that was only if the dream allowed her to take control of herself in the first place, in a strange, lucid way. Some didn’t even offer her that freedom. She could only hope that her body’s instincts would kick in and wake her up before she could no longer breath underwater.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled and she turned her head behind her, feeling as though she was being watched. She scanned the dark trees, looking for whatever possibly lurked in their shadows, but found nothing but a void of darkness.

“Hello?” she called, but no one answered. She shook it off and turned back towards the fire.

“What’s so important about this dream? There’s nothing here but a forest and a fire,” she mumbled. Looking up from the flames, Andromeda jumped and stifled a yelp.

Right across from her sat a white wolf, its nose pointed straight at her as the blaze in front illuminated it. She stared at it incredulously, her breathing becoming shallow, knowing that it was capable of attacking her. She slowly began to push herself back, the wolf still as a statue, watching her silently. Its light eyes blended in with its long, white fur, and as she continued to gaze into them, a realization hit her. She stopped shuffling away.

They were the same color as her own. The same shade of grey, the same flecks of blue.

In a blink, its eyes shifted to a brighter blue, one of shimmering sapphires or a vivid sky. Andromeda watched with fascination, all senses of caution slowly melting away. The wolf’s presence was strangely calming, and she sat there silently, studying its features over the flames.

A twig snapped, and the wolf’s ear perked up in alarm. Andromeda whipped her head to her right, straining to see past the fire’s glowing circle. With a whine, the wolf bolted to her side, brushing its head against her hand. Adrenaline began to fill her, and Andromeda quickly stood up, her hand resting on the wolf’s fur at its neck. It began to lead her away from the clearing, dragging her along in the opposite direction of the noise.

Another twig snapped, and the wolf began to run. Andromeda struggled to catch up, her feet blistering against the rough forest floor as they pounded against it. Her heart began to thump in her ears, and she stole a glance behind her. She saw nothing, yet knew she had to keep moving. All her trust was placed in this strange creature. She had to stay alive until she woke up. Looking forward, she saw the wolf turn its head for a split second before continuing to lead her away.

Her mind assured that it was the glint of the wolf’s eyes, but she briefly wondered if she saw them flash a deep red, a crimson that shone against its white fur.

Pushing the thought away, she continued to run, deeper into the winding trees and endless night.