Between Disreality - Snippet #02

Mayven opened her eyes slowly, incessant whispers making her head throb. Looking around, she tries to sit up, but a rough hand pushes her back down.

“Keep still. Your wounds were grave. You’re lucky to be alive.” the gruff voice said.

Holding her pained head, Mayven muttered, “I don’t feel fortunate…” and shook her head. The whispering felt like it was getting louder, and with her head hurting, Mayven just wanted it to stop.

“Where does all that muttering come from? Please tell them to stop…” she pleaded, looking up at her savior, a rose-skinned Drecaal woman with a broken right horn. The Drecaal had long, dirty blond hair draped over her left shoulder. While her expression seemed apathetic, her eyes were soft and sympathetic.

“Shhh…try to focus on my voice. I know it’s hard, but if you ignore them, they will quiet down.”

Realizing what that meant, Mayven’s eyes widened in terror. The voices were coming from inside her head, not outside as they had sounded. She tried her hardest to push the whispers to the back of her head, but it was difficult.

“What’s happening to me?!”

The Drecaal woman sighed and stood up from the bedside, facing away from her.

“You, my dear, have been blessed with the wonderful curse of Insanity. And, it appears you got a two-for-one special because you also got a little bit of Chaos seasoning,” she explained sarcastically, then stepped up to a stump being used as a table to grab something.

Mayven’s jaw drops. “Are you serious?! Is now really the time to joke about something like that??”

The woman shrugs, “Is there a better time?” before walking back to Mayven’s bedside and handing her a bowl of what looks like green sludge. “Eat.”

But her stomach churns at the sight of the bowl contents, so she tries to hand it back.

“No, thank you…” Mayven grumbles, and the Drecaal shrugs again.

“That’s fine, but don’t get mad at me when you succumb to the insanity and chaos, leaving me to put you down.”

Gulping nervously, Mayven looked back down at the sludge. It might have been a trick of her eyes, but it almost appeared to be moving. Reluctantly, she picks up the spoon she was given and scoops up a tiny bit, then shoves it into her mouth before she can second-guess it. The substance tasted like slimy dirt. Fighting the urge to spit it out, she forces herself to swallow.

“That was foul!” Mayven complained.

“What did you expect from a soup made of mushrooms and herbs?” her savior questions with a roll of her eyes, and then, without asking for permission, she starts to pull the dressing off from around Mayven’s ribs. Startled, the young Revoir lady jumped back away from her.”

“What are you doing?!” she asks before looking down to see the gashes all along her chest, stomach and sides. “Oh…well, a little warning would have been nice.”

“Warning for what?” was her response as the Drecaal soaked the bandage in a cleaning solution. Then, while that rag was soaking, she roughly dapped the wound with another cloth that smelled like an alcohol-cleaning solution. This caused the wounds to sting badly, making Mayven yelp.

“Ouch! That hurts!”

But the other young lady didn’t say anything, focused on wiping down the deep cuts. Then, a realization struck Mayven like a rock to the head: the strange, antisocial behavior, survival knowledge and attitude.

“You’re all alone out here, aren’t you?

She raised an eyebrow. “Of course not; I have a whole army with me. They are just hiding.”

Confused, Mayven’s frown deepened. “Wait, really?”

“No….but I don’t like telling strangers I’m alone,” she explains, taking out the soaking bandages and starting to lay them across Mayven’s abdomen. “It usually makes them want to fight or try to take what I have.”

This made sense as Mayven tilted her head thoughtfully.

“I think you’re safe with me…I couldn’t fight in this condition even if I wanted to.”

“Yes, I know. That’s why I told you the truth. I could easily overpower and kill you.”

Mayven sighs. “Delightful…” then remembered she hadn’t thanked her savior yet. “Regardless…thank you for saving me. I’d be dead without you.”

“Yes, you would,” she responded in a matter-of-fact tone but sighed as she finished applying the clean dressing. “You’re welcome.”

Then, the Drecaal woman turned away from Mayven, picking up a plate next to the smoldering remains of a fire. Bringing it to her, Mayven was about to protest eating more sludge when she saw a whole fish sitting on the plate.

“Eat. Keep your strength up.”

Understanding, Mayven nods. “Thanks…” then starts to nibble on the roasted fish. It tastes good, Mayven thought- at least, way better than the sludge. The Drecaal woman started moving things about the small wooden shelter. This got Mayven wondering who exactly she was.

“How long have you been out here by yourself, then? I didn’t think anyone could survive out here…”

“I have lost track of time. But since I was a child.” She answered plainly, no emotion in her voice. “My name is Torriya, by the way.”

Feeling like the two were finally starting to warm up to each other, Mayven grins softly. “Mayven. It’s nice to meet you.”

Torriya glanced back at her. “So, what brings you out into the wonderful wilds? Was it the scenery? The wildlife? Or maybe you were just bored of your tedious day-to-day?”


Mayven’s grin disappeared, replaced with a grumpy expression.

“No, none of those, actually. I was…thrown out because of my abilities.” she decided to reveal—no point in keeping secrets, after all, since Torriya had shared her story with Mayven.

“Abilities? What kind of abilities?” Torriya questioned, sounding slightly nervous.

With a stoic expression, Mayven lifts her hand as if she were cupping water. From the center of her palm bloom real, beautiful flower fairies. They flap their colorful wings and start to hover just above her fingers.

“I can create…” Mayven states with a detached look in her eyes.

Then, Mayven closes her hand around the flower fairies, turning them upside down before releasing them to reveal that they have dissolved into nothingness.

“And I can destroy.”

Torriya’s eyes widened. “That’s impressive. But why would they throw you out for that?”

Sighing, Mayven looks away, feeling a sense of self-loathing about her powers.

“They are scared I might make weapons or destroy their armies. It’s the reason I was kicked out of my home village as well…” she reveals.

It’s quiet for a moment, the only sound being the low hum of wildlife throughout the Evergloom. Then, with narrowed eyes, Torriya asked her burning question.

“Can you do that?”

“I can…” Mayven tells her but quickly follows the statement, “But it doesn’t mean I would!”

Torriya crossed her arms. “You should. I would if they threw me out into the wild like this.”

Frowning, the Revoir woman considered that before looking away uncertainly. “I don’t know…this city may be awful, but…so is everywhere else. It’s hard to find a decent home in this fractal.”

This statement causes Torriya to shrug. “I think my home is pretty decent. Your standards are just too high.”

Mayven looks around at the small, hastily made shelter. “Maybe you’re right. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.”

“I’m not offended.” Torriya shakes her head. “And this isn’t my home. I’m not taking a stranger back to my place. This is just a camp I set up to deal with your injury.”

While this made sense, Mayven recognized that setting up the small shelter would have taken her at least a day.

“I see…how long was I out for?”

“Two days. I honestly didn’t think you were going to survive. I’m impressed.”

Mayven sighs, leaning back in the makeshift bed.

“Glad to impress…” she mumbles before wondering about something. “How do you live out here by yourself? Don’t you ever get lonely?”

While travel amongst the Revoirs wasn’t uncommon, they benefited primarily from their permanent cities.

“No,” Torriya replied shortly. But then, she looks away, frowning. “Okay, yes, a little…but it’s been like this for as long as I can remember. You just do whatever it takes to survive out here.”

Having an idea, Mayven sits up suddenly, wincing at the pain in her sides. “Can I stay with you? I don’t think I’d survive out there by myself…”

The blond Drecaal considered that momentarily before providing her answer. “I suppose that would be mutually beneficial. For now. But everything out here comes at a cost. Once you’re healed, I’m putting you to work.”

Mayven then nods, understanding. “That seems like a fair arrangement,” she sighs.

“Thanks.”

She simply nods at her before handing over a second cooked fish. “Eat.”

“I’m not hungry--” Mayven tried to argue, but Torriya cut across her.

“Your body needs healing fuel, and you haven’t eaten in a few days. Eat.”

“Okay…” Mayven takes the fish gingerly, nibbling at it. “So…does this mean you’ll show me where you actually live?”

Torriya hesitates. “I haven’t decided yet. I’m not sure I can trust you. Plus, I need to make sure I won’t have to kill you.”

“I suppose that’s fair…then, I’ll just have to prove that I can be trusted.” However, the voices start to ramp up in volume around her. Trying to shake herself out of it, she slaps herself sharply. “I might need help dealing with these pesky voices, though…”

Kneeling in front of Mayven, Torriya puts her hands on the side of her head. “Look into my eyes. Breathe. Focus on me. The voices want control, and if you allow them to have it, you will die.”

As she was told, Mayven took a deep breath, nodding as the voices quieted down again.

“That will be difficult to get used to…”

“Believe me, I know,” she said, her eyes empathetic. “I know what it’s like to fight against inner demons.”