A fluid gently slipped through his dreams, eroding the boy's heavy mental state. The waterfall soothed his well being as he sat alongside the ghostly image of liquid. Sprays of water landed in his face like raindrops. He smiled at the brilliant display of light dancing on the stream before him. Markliam felt joy.
"Its beautiful," he whispered to the flow, hoping the system would hear him
Thank you.
His eyes grew with wonder. Markliam bent over the water looking for the voice. His reflection greeted him instead. His boyish face looked clean and even groomed just as he would if his family was going to see his cousins. The image was remarkably still as if the water was frozen, but the sound of the waterfall told him that that was not the case.
"Who's there?" he asked the stream.
A friend of the family, the voice replied.
Markliam felt sorrow. He had forgotten about his family. He remembered patches of memories as if it was all a dream or more accurately, a nightmare. He recalled smoke, shadows, and bright eyes. They were disturbing and overwhelming.
You are safe now, the voice continued, Can you feel the peace around you?
He felt his eyelids drop as if someone pulled a blanket over him, but he was not even tired. As soon as his eyes were closed his ears were flooded with the sound of rushing water. It was if he could feel the waterfall without entering it. A breeze entered his mind and soothed his pain. Markliam sighed.
Can you feel the peace around you?
"Yes," he whispered.
He opened his eyes slowly and looked into the face of another furre. She was sitting in the stream, dripping in front of him, smiling. He looked at her for a moment, completely speechless. She was his age. Her wet blue hair looked tangled from the bath of water she must have received only a few seconds ago.
The girl stood and the river of black that draped around her followed. Markings and ripples seemed as if they shone out of her grey skin. Her feet were distorted but bare from the currents of the water, now vibrant as if she called on to them. Markliam's jaw slowly parted at this site before him. She was surreal.
Are you alright? she asked.
"Am I dead?" Markliam asked. As those words left his mouth he felt an onset of tears in his throat. He fought to contain them with one desperate twitch of his eyes. Upon failure he looked down and started to bawl. He felt her hand on his shoulder. Her other hand lifted his face to look into her's again.
You are safe, she said, I will not let anyone harm you.
"I'm dead!" he continued to cry.
No you're not, she said, You are asleep.
Markliam choked as he tried to ask her a question. He dreaded the words he was going say. He wanted to remain here, safe with the waterfall. But if he left, his family may still be alive. He took in a lot of air to quarantine the tears.
"How do I wake up?"
The girl smiled. She grasped his hands and pulled him up. Markliam felt completely at ease with her as if she were an old friend. His tears were now gone, replaced with a smile. The girl moved him to the river and he looked into the water.
Then she pushed him in.
"Kaelin!" a boy shouted happily, "He's awake!"
It took Markliam a few seconds to realize that the waterfall was gone. He was in a house of some sort, laying in a straw bed with a large black blanket over top of him. He could still feel the sound of water, but it seemed far away. He sat up and felt a presence beside him.
"Hi!"
Markliam jumped at the voice. He tackled the boy down with the blanket and held him there. The furre beneath him muffled something, but Markliam could not hear. The roar of rushing water that was once far off now seemed as if it was running closer to him. Markliam kept still expecting water to break down the house. It sounded as if it were on him. He felt his legs give way and in a few seconds his back was on the ground. He stared at the ceiling, dazed at the floating stars above his head.
The blanketed boy stood and tried to rip the sheet off himself. He managed to find the end and hoisted the cloth above his head, showing his frightened blue face. He looked over Markliam to a furre unseen, most likely the one who just brought the woodland furre to the ground.
"He just tried to kill me!" the blue boy said.
"Well, you did startle him, Gorian," the voice said.
Markliam recognized the voice. It was the girl by the river, the one who had soothed him with the waterfall. But it sounded a little different. He realized why when she bent down to look at him. She was an adult. She looked younger than his mother, but still old by his standards.
"Markliam," the furre continued sternly, "We don't harm anyone in this house. Understood?"
He was stunned. How did she know his name? Not that it mattered now, because the furre looked at him like she was ready to kill him for attacking the boy. She had asked him a question and he knew she was expecting the only answer. He nodded.
"Good then," she smiled, "I'm Kaelin and this is my friend, Gorian."
He was still looking at Kaelin when Gorian helped him up. His fear toward her disappeared in her smile, just like the one he saw by the river. He looked around the room he woke in. The walls were bare and the room only contained a bed and a small table. He stared at the object on the table and felt the onset of nightmares and hate that would haunt him for years to come. It was his crossbow. This was no dream. His family was really dead.