Immortal Guardians

I'm utterly insane. I think it's from insomnia. I was fine until the flowers. Since then, I've not slept. Three days ago.

I first met Fallen Kurrin on a role-play chat site, when I was a wolf, Kunama, injured while fighting. I'd been stabbed; I wasn't fast enough to counter my opponent, so Kunama took her human form to avoid death. Kurrin enfolded me in his wings and was working a healing spell when I timed out.
Afterwards, we always met in The Padded Cell at lunchtimes because of the time difference between countries. Kurrin envied my country's warmer climate, and I envied the forests in his.
Later, he decided to visit. We looked forward to meeting, and would do so at the beach.
A week before we were to see each other, I received a bouquet of colourful flowers - white camellia, blue and purple iris, multicoloured tulips, ferns, pink carnations and rosemaries. Attached was a card,

I grinned. Perhaps he thought my eyes were cyan, which they were while in The Padded Cell. There, I also had silver-grey fur, huge paws, canine teeth, a lean, powerful body and a command of ice.
That night, I stayed up, drawing what I thought Kurrin looked like.

I was overjoyed the next day when mother decided we'd trial Free Internet Service. Since it was the first week of holidays, I desired few things more. While everyone slept, I surfed and chatted through the dark hours. When I became bored with that, I lay awake in bed watching ice sparkle across my vision, knowing it wasn't real. I was dizzily tired, but couldn't sleep.

I didn't tell my parents about Kurrin, or the insomnia, but they noticed the latter, probably from the rings around my eyes. Yesterday, they put something into my dinner. I became so drowsy I actually dozed, waking at midnight to sounds of hunting drums in my aching head. I couldn't focus on anything for more than two minutes. This morning, I had no appetite. I made myself eat lunch, but stayed away from dinner. Kunama would be wary of poisoned meat.

I lie on my bed nibbling biscuits, hoping for rest and staring wearily at the flowers, which seem to be the cause of my sleeplessness.
Magic tingles over me as we peer into ferns, seeing frightened eyes; scenting our hunger. We chase, leap, bite, and taste flesh. Warm blood covers ferns, muzzles, tongues and bellies, filled by our prey. Sated contentment. And then, sweat-dampened clothing on sun-warmed skin, refreshed by the pack and the thrill of the hunt.

"One more day," someone inside me says, "then you may rest."
'What?! Who're you?'
'I am who you are, but more. My name is Kunama.'
'Great. Now I'm talking to myself, who claims to be me, but by another name. Wait… that's insane!'
The family decides I can be left alone, and leave. I spend the day chatting with Fallen Kurrin and others in The Padded Cell, recognising those I ran with last night.
Why do they deny their participation when I retell the events?

The clouds are dark when the family return, wanting to poison me again. Refusing food, I go to bed. I gaze at the half-opened tulips, some the colour of deep, blue eyes. Magic makes my eyelids close; visions without slumber.
Swirling snow, blurry outlines - lupine kin, fur, ears, muzzles, tails. In the distance, a lone sentinel, silhouetted against a sparking sky; his wings outstretched, summoning bright electricity from the thunderstorm, weaving a net with glowing strands of lightning. Behind him rises our Gate, created of Light, Crystal and Ice, forged in the storms of Time's birth.
All night, we run through white cold, howling the ancient songs and star-trails to the Gates and beyond them, to Eternity. Sunrise - awareness of clothing on pale skin and brown eyes returned cyan.

Alert in stifling storm-heat, I hurry to meet Kurrin. When I arrive, he is there, his deep, blue eyes searching mine, concerned; strangely hurt. The surf sucks at our feet as we walk barefoot along the shoreline, awaiting the storm.
"Thanks for the flowers and beautiful poem."
"I only penned truth. Did they help?"
I nod nervously, scenting magic around Kurrin. "Do you know what's to happen?" he continues.
"No." Inside, Kunama stirs, sensing Kurrin gathering the tangible suspense before the storm and moulding it into power. She is an arcane creature. 'As is Kurrin,' she mystifies further.
"Tonight, we are to leave this world, Kunama. You don't remember, but, my mate, I have searched for you seven long years. We are returning to our native forms - as our Gate's Guardians." Interrupted by thunder, he reaches out. His lightning blazes away hindering mind-mists, revealing my timeless existence as Guardian with Kurrin; the deadly beauty of our geas-bound Gate; that the past week hadn't been insanity, but the shedding of mortality.
"Seven years is too long to be apart," I, Kunama, respond from my soul, accepting his arms' embrace and the familiarity of his lips and tongue against my own.
The sudden deluge quickly soaks discarded clothing.
In the last minutes of our existence as mortals, Kurrin reminds me of what it means to be his mate. Ecstasy overwhelms us both while water washes over our naked bodies, and I wonder how I could have forgotten him, our everlasting love and the combined strength of our elemental power. Looking up with cyan eyes into deep blue ones no longer wounded, I whisper,
"I haven't rested for a week, and neither have you. Let's go."
I feel protective wings surrounding me as Kurrin evokes lightning and I summon snow, into a swirl of impossibly bright crystal jewels.

"Teens disappear in freak snowstorm," newspaper headlines proclaim.