Painting It Red (The Oracle Series - Book One)

Chapter 12: Whispering Winds

^^Teegan is pictured in the header above
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-Kent-

   After the initial shock wore off, I needed some time to process the claims Nora had made. This must, to some degree, be how she felt when we first extracted her. The weight of the world, of destiny, weighing upon her smooth, elegant shoulders. Except I have no special abilities to speak of, nothing that would set me apart from the average person. I'm well trained, but that means nothing in a supernatural context.

    I don't see why Nora would need a guardian, much less why it would be me. She can supposedly bend time and space, so why would a non-magical CIA agent be written into her destiny? Unconsciously, I pinch the bridge of my nose, right where it meets my forehead, and  begin to rub the area in soothing circular motions. My head feels tight, a dull pain beginning to assault my skull. It's likely due to the stress, but there's a good chance it could also be the result of the shooting pains originating from the bullet wound in my thigh.

    Nora did a decent job patching the wound, listening well to my precise instructions and working quite efficiently under pressure. She really impressed me tonight. Still, nothing can substitute for proper pain medication and professional medical assistance. Checking my wristwatch, I see that thankfully, we should be landing in about 30 minutes. I've endured much worse on past missions, but that certainly doesn't make this sensation a pleasant one.

    Shifting my position slightly, I chance a look at Nora. She fell asleep a little while ago, sprawled out across her reclined leather seat in the cabin. Her chest rises and falls peacefully, but her eyelids flutter slightly, as though overwhelmed by the content of her dreams. I wish, just once, that I could see the world of sands that she sees behind closed eyes. It must be something of an otherworldly experience.

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-Nora-

    In recent nights, I've relentlessly practiced wielding control over the sands. Instead of entering the heart of time's network, I've simply tried to target my dreams, pleading with them and guiding them to moments of relevance. Results have been passable, at best, until this moment.

    My heart fills with triumph and hope, my mouth stretching into the widest of smiles, the moment the crimson sands calm. The moment I see her. I finally did it.

    Sands wind and curl endlessly in purposeful movements, building the scene before me piece by piece, brick by brick. I've never seen them act with such deliberate intention. Every trickle of movement leaves behind a new piece of bustling life and surrounding scenery, revealed from thin air as if magically brought into being.

    Atop a low-lying brick wall that encloses and surrounds a magnificent lush garden, sits Teegan. Her eyes are shut peacefully as she leans back on her elbows, enjoying the crisp breeze. I'm dying to focus on her and only her, but something instinctively tells me that what I'm seeing is happening in the relative present. I can feel it. If I can determine this location, I might just have a way to track her down.

Searching for clues, I approach a nearby news stand. I make sure to glance back at her ever few seconds, assuring she doesn't disappear, and take a moment to scan a local newspaper.

    With an electric jolt of excitement, I notice the date on the paper is tomorrow's. If I can pinpoint the exact location, I might legitimately be able to meet her here in time. I could find her tomorrow! Eagerly scanning for more information, I learn that the paper is a local Boston publication. She's so close.

    I race back to the spot where she sits, frantically seeking a street sign, a building name, anything I can use to pinpoint this spot. After taking in every inch of the surrounding landscape, I allow myself to watch her for a moment, wishing desperately that she could see or hear me.

    She tilts her head slightly, a gentle breeze lightly blowing her blonde hair back from her face. Her eyes glisten, alight with interest, and for a second I could almost swear I heard a quiet voice whispering in the lilt of the wind.

"Thank you." She whispers softly, looking around with a sudden interest in her surroundings.

    Just as I am wondering who she could possibly have been talking to, she speaks. This time, her voice is a tiny decibel louder.

"Eleonora, I know you aren't truly here but.. the winds tell me you can see and hear me. I hope we meet soon. I long to be in your presence, sister. If you can, meet me here? If you see this too late, I understand.. but I will come to this spot every day for the next week. From three pm to six. I will wait for you."

    Stunned, I stare wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the amazing woman before me. She knows who I am! Without the gift of sight, I'd assumed she wouldn't have a clue about any of this. It seems I'd underestimated the power of nature.

    The sands, having now met and exceeded my request, swirl swiftly and wildly, engulfing the Boston street in endless fields of crimson. Once the scene is entirely obscured from sight, bathed in a sea of opaque red, I drift peacefully back to consciousness.

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Sorry that this one is a bit short, it's more of a lead-in the next couple chapters! They will be posted soon though, I promise. 😘

Thanks, as always for reading, and don't forget to comment and vote!