Sleeping Ugly

Her small face, usually so rosy, glowed like a flower bathed in the softest sunset, and beneath her rumpled hair,  her eyes seemed deeper and larger than they had ever been.

Flecks of luminescent amber danced across orbs of gold behind dark lashes, such curtains fluttered like the fragile wings of a butterfly as she stirred from a slumber great and rose delicately, as though her limbs would snap with a likeness of the healthy foliage that twisted and fell from her form like the sweetest drops of rain.

Perhaps it was a mistake, after all, to associate her arms and legs as being so delicate like the flora and fauna, for they ached and seemed genuinely inflexible from the sheer lack of use.

She moved them with all the finesse of a rotting log tumbling down a steep hill and the pain she felt from crawling forth could not be heard from her lips. In the place of a scream was an expulsion of air that flittered past her lips and died with the slightest toss of her head.  

A plethora of flowers plummeted from her loose braids.

How long had she been asleep for? She wondered this, expecting the hood of her green cloak to be felt under the tips of her slender fingers. But there was just more hair to touch, and it alarmed her to think that in all these months someone thought it fine to tamper with her defenseless body, suspended in a deathlike sleep from which she would not wake until the second year.

A self-imposed spell, really.

She wrapped the cloak tighter around herself, sitting upright now as more questions flashed into her mind. Eyebrows were strewn together from all the worrying she did at that moment, and the small frown on her face must have made quite an impression on one of the locals because they were boisterous.

“Great balls of fire! It’s a zombie! She was dead the last time I checked! Run for your lives, my dudes!” cried an old man, not one who could have been a member of her tribe, as he scampered away with his long white beard trailing behind him.

Was he the one responsible for lowering the hood of her cloak while she slept? She stared at her knees long and hard until finally she stuck out her tongue, wrinkled her nose, and shivered all over.

She suddenly wanted a bath.

A very long bath.

Ah, but she had to respect her elders.

It was a necessary form of respect in her culture.

Before she could run off with this thought process, she heard a crunch in the grass, and from the earth emerged a burly figure of a man with tattoos about his strong arms. He dressed simply, but one could tell with just a glance that he and the girl shared very similar features.

“Noor,” grumbled a voice that brought the smallest smile to her face. It was an understatement to the comfort and happiness she felt upon hearing the words of her father swimming in her ears again. “You're finally awake. I have so much to tell you. Your blue friend passed by and thought you were dead.”

He stopped talking for some kind of effect.

"It was funny."

The smile on her face vanished.

"I laughed."

She looked perfectly unimpressed.

He, however, smiled as brightly as the sun.

NOTES ;
Will add things later.

“I told him the truth. Do not allow anger to be the first thing you feel.” He reassured her, hoping to dissolve the pure disdain written all over her face.

She rose to her feet, but as she did so she saw him approaching her with open arms and stilled himself just like this in wait. While he kept himself open to her, the ‘zombie’ strayed from that beautiful coffin made of shrubbery to accept his powerful embrace with a very forgiving nod.

That soft smile from before came back wider. She knew just what would come next.

His hugs often left her without air and almost always caused her little feet to dangle off the ground. It was mostly from missing him so well that she allowed this: her laugh was like a distant wind chime being tossed about by a playful breeze and her cheek brushed against the crook of his neck with loving familiarity.

It was good to be home again.


To avoid the death of speech so soon, and also to satisfy her need for an answer which would come after being put down by the jovial Creature of Olde, Noor pressed his hand to the side of her face and nuzzled warmly into it.

She opened her mouth to say something.

She lifted her gaze to meet him seconds after her affectionate display and pressed a final kiss to his knobby knuckles.

Noor had many questions to ask, but the energy was not there for them and so she decided to say nothing after all.

She lowered her gaze to the grass soundlessly to explain that she was strangely tired and would like to be left alone.

They would talk more on the matter later.

The idea of visiting the river sounded like a rather capital idea, and perhaps after a much needed bath she would happily eat in the company of family.

NOTES ;
Will add things later.

The vast plains, enriched in resources of timber and minerals, with a warm climate and fertile soil, with great rivers and bountiful lakes, which did not go unappreciated by adventurers and native inhabitants alike was being admired by a ravenous woman who found herself daydreaming of all the mouth-watering steak she could eat.


Preserved by magic— it was a wonder the girl hadn’t thinned out so dangerously or smelled so badly— and yet she felt rightfully famished. But as hungry as she was, she refused to join the others without washing up first. Hygiene was a must after waking up from such a long nap.


Without thinking, she loosened her twin braids, and brushed through them with her fingers. She then stripped the crimson headband off her person carefully, keeping her eyes peeled for another occupant in the area. She was quite thankful to find herself perfectly alone. Enriched with sublime confidence, Noor wiggled out of her warm clothes until she was as bare as the day her presently deceased mother brought her into this world.


She shivered with dread for the icy touch of the river waters, and as an extra yet needless precaution, she dipped her small toe in the ever moving stream and tossed her head back to let out a rather muted: “No!”


The closeted witch pranced like an arthritis-stricken gazelle upon the earth, snatched up a white towel with a frown on her face and pressed it tightly to her chest, as though nature had done her a great disservice.


She tried again, that poor girl, this time without a white cloth to cover her, before falling into the frosty embrace of nature’s never ending fountain of tears with a uproarious splash.


She dramatically thought herself dead for two seconds. The cold wouldn’t allow her to stew in the shock for too long. Noor, quite stunned still, popped out of the water like a rabid shark, her gasps oddly sweet and minutely shrill. She wrapped her arms around herself with chattering teeth and widening eyes, pushing herself against the gentle current to grab the red cloth perched upon the smooth slick stone.


She scrubbed her arms with it firmly, patiently, peacefully and, while tending to everything else, her mind ran away with her heart as she listened to the sweet evening serenade.


She tilted her head with the humble air of a bard being kissed by a muse most gracious,  and closed her eyes, humming along with a melody she composed off the cuff.


She seemed to treasure the respite from the war, a very violent one that came to a sudden end all those years ago, which, for an old eldritch like herself, was a wound too fresh to touch.


“We have better things to do than recall tumultuous times. For now. Perhaps focus better on what comes after this.” She whispered into the sopping dark waves clinging to the side of her glistening face and neck. “Food, food and..”


Her shoulders danced a bit as she neared the end of her bath. “…More food.” She was actually feeling rather excitable knowing she was going to see old friends and, potentially, some new ones.


A lot could happen in the span of a one to two year sleep.

NOTES ;
Will add things later.

She hurried through the tall grass and stealthily worked her way home.


She ran ever faster.


The wind ran its intangible fingers through her damp hair, smothering her lungs and sides with a dull ache.


Goosebumps ran along her skin and made her wish she had a sweater on. It wasn’t that cold, but it didn’t take much to cause a chill to run through the petite athlete.


The darkness of night settled over the plains like a blanket for the fireflies to dance upon. Such luminous creatures strangely brought comfort to the girl who wandered alone in the pitch black with nothing but their glow to light her way.


Having made her long but simple return to the tribe, she received little recognition. Her arrival was not accompanied by the jubilant cheering of overjoyed familiars exuding their glorious enthusiasm over her long-missed presence. It was an unceremonious appearance.


She didn’t mind.


She was too out of breath to crave the attention or greet her people with the vigor they rightfully deserved. Noor tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear and smiled, unsure of what to make of the dress she wore.


It was pleasantly lightweight, however…


Were the baby blue beads too soft for all that red? Did the cyan sash hugging her narrow waist clash horribly with the airy texture of her clothes? She didn’t know.


The perk of such colorful attire was that it was comfortable, and if she could have looked in a mirror, she would have subtly admired how it accentuated her backside but openly disliked how it rendered all else a miserable plank.


Oh, to be a curvaceous temptress and to so beguile the masses with all that womanly allure; she certainly would have thought with the driest humor. She could only imagine the worst version of herself as she stopped the mental commentary with a shrug.


She simply wasn’t the smoking hot one percent that roamed the land, and she was perfectly fine with the idea of being a potato lost in a field of wildflowers for as long as she was useful and whole.


The aforementioned potato had previously anticipated to see some new faces and a few slightly taller children. Much to her surprise, she saw neither, and stewed in the realization for a moment.


Her eyes, once very wide, squinted profusely through her monstrously frizzy locks. Wouldn’t little Koko have started walking in as little as two years? Still as rosy-cheeked and as precious, Noor recalled, as the baby cooed happily in the arms of her mother.


Her attention on the simple oddity had shifted to the grandiose difference that she found in the dense and heavy woodland. It made up much of the towering architecture and impressive slopes of ginormous trees that housed the Gaiyan settlement. It was even more beautiful than she remembered. Then again, her people were always improving their way of life and their aesthetic tastes were always changing, always flowing.

Now that everything looked so remarkably different, Noor was not sure as to where her father lived anymore and it worried her. She rubbed the back of her neck and sighed.


She didn’t really feel like asking around for him, but it was a requirement if one wanted to be part of a community and receive the help when needed. Before she could get the attention of the fisherman’s wife, she heard her name on the lips of another and knew by the deep voice alone of who it belonged to.


They were usually very civil to each other, but there would always exist some of the underlying bitterness of a broken heart. Understandable. Considering it was her doing, putting a merciless end to a long, promising relationship without a reason or rhyme.


Her reasons for it were often poorly explained, never properly expressed to the fullest, and how it made such a lovely fellow so insecure.


The quiet self-blame was present in her voice, all the happiness of home sucked out of her.


“Ahanu,” she crossed her arms over her chest and didn’t know where to look. She only knew that she didn’t want to ask the next question; except it was the most respectful thing she could possibly do at this time.


Noor raised her eyes, the guilt of a former lover swimming in them, as she kept her head bowed. “Are you well?”


“Surprised. Weren’t you supposed to come back in two years like the self-proclaimed mystic messenger of Fleu? It’s only been two months.” He said logically, not minding the added sarcasm.


She processed this information silently.


“I never said anything like that,” she finally said, more so about the strange jab. “Has it really?” The light devastation could be heard in her question.


Ahanu chose to ignore the stunned look on her face. It wasn’t his responsibility to care now.


“It has.” Was all he could bring himself to say, falling silent as he bowed his head in the sudden presence of her father.


Having missed the cue, she wondered why he was being so courteous to her as she did the same despite the growing knot in her throat.


When she did it, he briskly raised his chin to imply that such a polite gesture was reserved only for her honorable father.


“Excuse me,” he said, leaving them to rejoice in peace.

NOTES ;
Will add things later.