by Brianna G. Harte
PREVIOUSLY, ON “THE KNIGHT OF XEO”
Relief ran its course, bringing life back to the landscape. I wiped my eyes as the last tears were released.
May you find peace, young lady.
My eyes opened to find not a single soul, animal or human, in sight. Something had come in, had saved me. Something drove away those people who would not leave me alone. Was this person that somebody?
You will not see me for a short while, but know that I can finally watch over you.
“Who are you?”
I can feel that you wish to understand and speak to me, and I understand that you may not remember how to respond to nature as your mother did, but if you wish to ask me anything or talk to me, you must send your thoughts to nature. I suppose the easiest step is to close your eyes and try to sense nature around you.
Looking back at the snakes, whose clouds of thoughts radiating toward me and could be interpreted by me with just a little more than intuition, I sighed. I closed my eyes, thinking of the snakes. How had they spoken to me? Did they simply think or did they actively have to do something? What if all animals spoke like that? Not all speaking the same language verbally, through growls and chirps and any other sound made, but maybe they still communicated through their thoughts or something else. I wanted to figure out how I could mimic it. Maybe that was what the strange voice was trying to get me to do. The problem was, I had no idea how. I tried thinking very hard. I tried thinking about sending my thoughts out. I tried to whisper.
Don’t get frustrated. If sensing nature around you did not work, maybe telling you how I do it would be a better way. And you don’t need to worry about the nurses and doctors here. I have let them know that I am what they call a guardian, someone who watches over you in the absence of your parents.
As if you’ve watched over me at all for all this time, I thought. I have had no memory, no contact with people I recognized, and no interactions at all from being underground. I didn’t think that the disembodied voice heard any of this, and he gave no indication that a word got through.
I propped myself on the bed and began to listen, eyes closed but all my senses were on high alert in case anyone came through the door.
Copyright © 2017 Brianna G. Harte. All rights reserved.