Page 2 of Nyx
The edges of the world soften as ringing fills my ears, but still, I hold on. I float.
Exist.
It’s all I’ve ever known how to do.
Muffled sounds find me through the water, and a deep voice calls out in the distance. My time in this sanctuary is over, whether I’m ready to face the world or not. Pain stabs through my chest, and my lungs lurch behindmy ribcage as my body pleads for air. I take one last glance around my silent tomb before I heed its demand.
Reflections dance across the storm of my hair. A tadpole zips between the floating strands, wiggling its tail as if it’s matching their movement. The voice yells again, closer now, and the tiny creature darts away to hide from the intrusion.
My time hiding is done, though.
I release my grip on the log that anchors me here. A single kick of my feet propels me upward, and I drift towards that ring of light. The once glass-smooth surface turns turbulent as I float higher, and as I break through, the world finds me in a rush of lights and sounds.
The sun that was a faint lamp underneath the water now beats on my skin, blazing hot and blinding. Leaves rustle from the wind, but it might as well be claws against my eardrums. I glance over my shoulder as feet crunch against the fallen twigs and underbrush, still treading water in the lily pad ring of my hair.
“There you are,” Ronan says as he emerges from the trees. “I was looking everywhere for you. Did you forget about our lesson?” I shake my head, scrunching my nose at the droplets that tickle my face. Sympathy burns off his expression as he crosses his arms and nods. “Do you not feel like it today?”
“No, I just—”
“In English, Nyx,” he scolds in the firm tone he uses when he teaches me. I glare at him, but he only snorts a laugh and crouches near the water’s edge, his voice infinitely softer. “You’re the one who told me to make sure you stick with it, even when you don’t want to.”
“I said, yes. Did not mean. That was when I was not…” I glance around us, trying to remember the word. “Busy.”
His lips twitch. “Busy doing what? Pretending to be a frog?”
Water sloshes as I lift a hand out to point at him. “You are the whole ass.”
“You mean an asshole?” he corrects with a smirk.
“No. The whole thing.Ass. Whole ass, Ronan.”
He tosses his head back in a loud laugh, and I begrudgingly let the sound lift my spirits by a fraction. “Who knew there was an entire giant ball of sass in there?” Ronan says with a chuckle, and I swim towards the shore.
“No sass,” I say as I wring out my hair. “Just frog.”
He grins again, but his smile fades as he watches me. “Do you need to skip our lesson today? Would you be happier if you stayed in the water?”
Yes.
Yes, it would make me happier to float in the depths and hide. Lock myself away in this isolation and sentence myself to a life of solitude. Anchor myself to that log and refuse to move.
Disappear.
But the world continues to spin as I stand still. I have to make an effort to catch up, even if it’s tiptoed steps and stumbling strides. Water sluices down my chest as my feet find the sandy, pebbled soil near the shore. “No, I come. My skin is…” I scrunch my nose again and display the pads of my fingers to him.
“Wrinkly.”
“Reen-clee?” I try, then scoff and shake my head. “No sense.”
Ronan makes an exasperated noise as I step out of the water, and I tilt my head at him in question. “We’ve talked about modesty, Nyx,” he scolds as he pointedly looks away, and thick, uncomfortable shame compresses my chest. “You shouldn’t walk around without clothes unless you’re at home.”
Home.
The forestismy home, or the closest I have to one, though I don’t argue that point.
Crystal droplets from the creek roll down my skin as my eyes drop to my naked body. Fat and muscle are slow to build, and prominent ribs line my torso—shadowed peaks and valleys that are too stubborn to fill. My knees and elbows are thicker than my arms and legs, and my hands and feet look too big.
Still, subtle changes are coming to my body as weight finds its way onto my frame, even if it isn’t as fast as Ronan prefers. He complains when I don’t eat his meat. He says I need it, but I don’t. It doesn’t feel right to consume the only creatures in this place who have never hurt me, though I’d never judge the others for feeding themselves.
