Nanowrimo 2021 Day 27 - Favorite Bit and Word Count

Apologies for missing the past couple of days, but today I added 1614 words to Seek the Oasis, bringing the total word count to 45,590.

Aysel found herself beneath the red water, the heat of the fires on the surface warming her back as she stared down at the broken temple below. Unlike her dreams before, she could breath. And this time, instead of a faceless statue, a woman stared up at her. Cold, icy blue eyes watched her intently, dark hair floating eerily in the surrounding water. A crown of silver and dark blue gems glittered on her brow, amorphous fabric of a matching color obscured her body from sight. Something about her – whether it was the long, slick hair that reminded her of the witch in the mountains or the stony, unreadable expression on her face, Aysel wasn’t sure – made her feel uneasy.

She blinked, and suddenly the woman was mere inches from Aysel’s face. Wide, too-bright eyes stared at her. The woman’s hair floated up, encircling and surrounding Aysel in inky tendrils.

A hand shot out, gripping Aysel’s arm in a grip so cold it burned. Fingernails dug into her flesh like claws, and lips – vividly, unnaturally red against porcelain pale skin – began to move.

“Child of the sand,” she intoned, voice reedy and melodic in staggering contrast to her visage and grip. “You have heeded my cry for help. For that, I thank you.”

‘You have a funny way of showing it’ was what Aysel wanted to say, but her mouth would not move and her voice would not come forth.

“You must rid this place of that damned creature,” the woman insisted, her grip tightening. “I will give you some of my own power. Use it wisely, child of the sand.”

Damned creature? What did she mean? There were supposedly many creatures that came from the corrupted lake, why did she speak of only one? Aysel struggled against the paralysis that kept hold of her. If the woman noticed her desperation, she did not heed it. The burning sensation grew more painful, searing into Aysel’s skin. Only now did sound leave her throat, a scream of pain ripping itself from her. The pain nearly bent her in half, her eyes clenched shut against the searing, frigid agony.

And then suddenly, the pain subsided. No longer the sharp, burning sensation from before, this pain felt more like a dull ache, throbbing just under her skin. She looked to her arm, mouth dropping open as she took in the swirling, twisting lines now etched into her skin. They glowed dully, the blue color matching the woman’s pale eyes. Aysel clenched her hand, watching the tattoo shift with her muscles.

Golden eyes rose, meeting the piercing blue gaze of the mysterious woman. In that moment, Aysel found her voice. “Who…?”

The woman straightened, her shoulders rolling back. With this shift in movement came a shift in size. While previously she had been the size of a normal, if perhaps slightly taller than average, human, now she towered over Aysel. Her sleek, dark hair took up all of Aysel’s periphery vision, blocking out the red of the water around her.

“I am Akua, goddess of the waters, giver of the natural laws. This lake holds my temple. Free it, child of the sand, for that is what I have brought you here to do.”

Despite being able to breathe just a moment before, Aysel found herself drowning. She struggled, eyes wide as hot, acrid water filled her lungs, burning her from the inside out. She looked for Akua, but she was alone.

Aysel awoke with a shout, throwing herself forward as she gasped for air. Air filled her lungs, the sensation distressingly painful. Her hands clung to her blankets as sweat rolled down her face and neck. Her eyes fell to her left arm, finding the dull, blue glow of the tattoo in her dreams had followed her into her waking moments. Briefly, her right hand traced the dancing, tidal lines on her skin, finding them cold to the touch. She clutched at her arm, covering as much of the tattoo as her hand could manage as her mind raced and her stomach roiled.

That woman. Or goddess. Or witch. Or whatever she was. She did not feel like the woman in the oasis. Her eyes were colder, her affect rigid and on the edge of violent. Was she truly the woman who’d blessed her all those years ago? If so, what could have changed her? Was it the corruption? That was her temple beneath the lake, perhaps the corruption of the water had affected her as well.

If it wasn’t her that day in the oasis, then who was it? The Sa’a did not hold their own gods, and even if they did once they were no longer alive. At least not enough to bestow any blessing so great as the one Aysel carried.

She stood, making her way out of the tent. The air was warm, and unnaturally dry considering their proximity to water. Aysel could not inhale as deeply as she wanted, the scent of rot and sulfur stinging her nose and throat. Without the deep, calming breaths she’d so often used to clamp down on emotions, her heart beat remained rapid, and her hands continued to clench and shake. The glow of the moon felt kind, though, and Aysel was thankful for it.