Mason

Curiouser and curiouser.

Dinner passed without much commotion, thankfully, mostly due to Mason’s ever-developing headache and need to remain in the bathroom most of the time. Her father appeared completely put-out, as usual, but her mother remained pointedly silent while they ate. Nevia resisted the urge to bolt minutes into the meal, and forced herself to sit it out, making stilted conversation with her parents as it went on.

 

Just before dessert, as Mason reappeared with an apologetic but still drunk grin, Nevia shot to her feet and backed towards the door, tugging him after her.

“I guess I better get rid of Mason,” she offered not-so-tactfully. Her father only snorted, not caring either way, but her mother frowned at her.

“You haven’t been able to taste the cake I baked, Nevia,” she said reproachfully, but her daughter smiled by way of saying sorry.

“I’ll come over again and try it then,” Nevia promised, managing to get her coat on and force Mason into his at the same time, ignoring his stammered protests about the cake. “Promise, mom. Love ya – I’ll call!” she waved, heading out the door and letting it swing shut behind her. Sighing in relief as she quickly walked down the street, she cast a glance at Mason, whose head was hanging, but she suspected it wasn’t a result of shame.

“I really wanted that cake, chick,” he managed, before turning around and burying his head in a nearby bush. Nevia sighed impatiently, and her body language made it clear she was anything but happy with him.

“Cake my a*s,” she grumbled, beginning to walk off once he was finished. “You can’t even keep whatever the hell that is down, much less cake. What are you doing, Mason?” she demanded, seeing him paused for the umpteenth time and look around.

“Nothing,” he shrugged, but she glared at him, ordering an answer with her eyes. “All right…I was seeing if it was going to rain,” he explained. “I have to keep up with the weather, you know.”

“You got thrown out again, didn’t you,” she realized, knowing she was right even before he offered her a pleading look. “Fine, Mason, whatever – I can lock you up in the closet for one more night.”

“Closet! Come on, chick!” he began to protest, but she shot him another glare. “Okay, okay,” he agreed hastily, backing down from the argument.

 

“Thanks a lot, Mason,” she grunted, as she dragged in, both dripping, into her apartment. Having lugged him up a flight of stairs, she was hardly in the mood to be kind, and dumped him onto the floor, straightening with a groan. “I could’ve been home and avoided the storm if I didn’t have to carry you the entire way.”

 

He made an unintelligible noise, face-down on the floor, and she prodded him with her foot before sighing, and trying to wring out her hair.

“I’ll make you pay when you’re sober enough to appreciate it,” she promised, going to a small closet and digging out two items – a bath towel, which she wrapped around her hair, and a large beach towel, which she tossed onto Mason. “There, you have a blanket. Good night,” she sighed, going to her room with any feeling of guilt.

 

I probably had better clear something up right now. I have never slept with Mason – and as of this moment, I have never, nor do I, intended to. That’s not to say he hasn’t tried, but it seems the only time he gets into my living space is when he’s wasted on something. I thought, once, I had feelings for him, and I’ve never quite cleared that up. But right now, there is absolutely nothing between us, got it?

 

Nevia woke the next morning feeling like a drowned rat, and instantly realized why – she had fallen asleep on her bed in her wet clothes, and everyone knows how wet clothes feel after they dry. Well, try waking up with that feeling. She let out a rather-forceful and calm “Goddamn it!” before swinging out of bed and stripping her clothes off quickly, grateful her hair was at least still wrapped in the towel. Not thinking about her guest – completely forgetting about him, in fact, she neglected to wrap something around herself before heading out of her room to the bathroom.

 

“What the…” she muttered, hearing the shower going. Narrowing her eyes, and still not really thinking – obviously – she slammed the door open, already in a bad mood.

“Ack! Chick!” Mason protested, quickly pulling the curtain shut. “If you wanted to join me, no need to scare me like that!”

Nevia was speechless for several seconds, before letting out a shriek that woke the neighbors below and sent Mason flying from the room in terror. Shutting the bathroom door with a bang and locking it, she took a few moments to calm down before stepping into the hot shower herself and quickly washing up.

 

“Good God, chick, don’t kill me!” Mason pleaded, having dressed himself and backing towards the door in panic as Nevia approached him calmly almost thirty minutes later. Her gray eyes were anything but pleasant to look at, and he grabbed for the doorknob nervously.

 

“Get. Out. Mason,” she ordered quietly, taking another step forward. “And I don’t want to see you for a good – long – while.”

“Sure thing, chick!” he agreed fervently, running out of the apartment without a look back. The door slammed shut behind him, and she groaned at the whole mess, blushing a bit as well. Shaking her head to clear it, she stalked towards her refrigerator, thinking also of the strange dream she had had last night.

“More like a nightmare,” she muttered, taking out some juice and pouring it into a glass, staring at the liquid intently. “Spirits my butt…” she grumbled, the image of the water spirit clearly etched in her memory. Draining her glass with one gulp, and almost choking, Nevia sighed loudly and looked around, remembering it was the weekend.

“I need a vacation!” she announced triumphantly, a grin forming on her lips. “That’s what I need. I’ve been too stressed out lately,” she decided, heading back to her room and planning to drive down to the coast a few miles away as soon she could get an overnight bag ready. There were numerous places to stay at the coast, since it was a great tourist attraction, and she figured she just needed two days of rest. And since it was so cold outside, there wouldn’t be any annoying tourists to irritate her. Humming happily to herself – and horribly off-key – she shoved several things into a small suitcase, already in a better mood.

 

“Don’t get many people this time of year,” the man said with a grin, meeting her at the toll that led to the beach and boardwalk.

 

“That’s why I’m here,” she replied with a laugh, and he nodded understandingly.

“Ah, I see. Well, enjoy yourself, miss,” he called after her, and she waved to him as she pulled away. Taking a deep breath, enjoying the smell of the ocean, she drove around the small town for a few minutes, looking for somewhere to stay that wouldn’t cause her to go broke, and soon found a surf-and-turf inn that looked promising. Better yet, it looked practically deserted, and she parked in the lot behind the building before grabbing her bag and heading up the alley-like path between the two buildings to the inn.

“Hello? Anyone home?” she called, walking in and hearing the bell over the door jingle as it closed.

“Hey,” an older woman greeted her, leaning on the counter. “Didn’t think I would see any tourists.”

“I live a few miles in,” Nevia explained. “I needed a break. And I like when it’s empty.”

“Well, it’s certainly empty,” the woman agreed. “My name’s Catherine Fitz. How long’re you stayin’ here?”

“Until sometime Sunday,” the young woman told her.

“Sounds good to me,” Catherine nodded, her graying hair in a long ponytail, looking like a woman who still enjoyed physical activities. “Lots of time to spend.”

“Exactly,” Nevia grinned. “An escape.”

“All right – here’s your key. You’ll be on the third floor, with a bath and everything,” the woman informed her. “Breakfast’s from seven to ten, then it’s an open bar until twelve, at lunchtime. That’s over at two, and it’s open again until five – dinner. Got that?”

“Yes,” Nevia nodded. “Sounds perfect.”

“Good – I’ll show you to your room,” she said, moving around the counter towards the stairs. A door next to the counter seemed to lead into a spacious dining/sitting area, and the small foyer had several chairs and tables scattered around. “Come on,” the elderly woman ordered, already halfway up the spiraling staircase. Nevia shrugged and followed the woman, carrying her bag carefully to avoid smacking herself in the legs.

 

“I’ll be back in time for dinner,” Nevia promised the woman, who only grunted in reply as the young woman headed out the door. Wrapping her scarf around her mouth, and pulling her jacket close, she headed down the street, enjoying the smell of the air as she headed towards the boardwalk and sea. The sky was still cloudy and promised a storm, which Nevia took note of, reminding herself not to stay out too long.

 

Reaching the boardwalk, she clambered down the embankment to the beach itself, watching the waves push together and break apart, finding the scene relaxing.

“I knew it…all I need is some private time,” she sighed, taking a deep breath of the air and closing her eyes. Remaining still for a moment, she was suddenly aware of a strange sensation in her left arm – almost like it was being pulled from her body towards the sea.

“Ow!” she cried, grabbing her shoulder in an attempt to stop the feeling. It only grew stronger, however, and Nevia found herself heading closer to the sea. Now close enough that her shoes were getting wet, Nevia tried desperately to stop her body, growing extremely frightened at what was happening. She opened her mouth to gasp when she realized what was going to happen next, and received a mouthful of sea water when she plunged into the sea.

Flailing desperately with her right arm, Nevia kicked towards the surface, feeling the currents grow stronger as whatever storm was brewing gathered strength. Instead, she headed deeper into the black water, and her eyes widened when she realized she was most likely going to die, either drowned or crushed to death by the pressure of the water. Still struggling, Nevia felt herself weaken by some force, and the pain in her left arm was now almost unbearable. Tears in her eyes, despite the water, she sent up a prayer to whoever she thought might be up there, desperately wishing it was over with.

“So, we have found each other.”

“What…” Nevia wondered, hearing a voice in her head. Trying to move her head around, she realized the currents were pushing up toward the sky, and in seconds she broke the surface, gasping for air. Taking a moment to regain her strength, the pain receding, Nevia looked around and saw she was in some sort of cave, the beach not far from where she was now.

“You’re here,” the voice said, this time speaking aloud and much nearer. Gasping, Nevia saw a figure in the shallow water near the mouth of the low cave, seaweed in his hair and black eyes.

“What…” she managed, unable to think of anything else.

“I am Salil,” he introduced himself, peering at her calmly.

“Salil?” she repeated incredulously, wondering if this was indeed the water spirit.

“Yes,” he assured her, inclining his head slightly. “And you are Nevia.”

“How do you know me?” she demanded, pushing herself up against a wall away from him and shivering. She was surprised she could still speak at all, but there was a strange force that seemed to pull her towards the creature. He looked like a human – but yet, something was off about him, something that made him seem the unearthly being he truly was.

“I’ve always known you,” Salil replied, his voice making her picture waves crashing against the rocks. “It’s been such a long time since…being whole is taken for granted.”

“What?” she repeated, feeling a lump forming in her throat. He narrowed his eyes, and suddenly leaned closer to her. She jerked away, but he grabbed her left arm gently. Nevia realized he wore a strange garment, seeming to be made of solidified water somehow, and gasped at the feeling of his hand on her arm.

“This,” he informed her, staring at her. “This is mine.”

“Excuse me?” she asked incredulously, wondering if she was going to die.

“Mine,” he repeated quietly, releasing her and backing away a bit. She stared at him, watching the creature warily, sure he was going to do something else. She wasn’t disappointed when he turned back to her a few moments later, a solemn expression in his eyes. “We belong together – we all do,” he added softly, almost wistfully.

“What are you talking about?” Nevia managed, suddenly feeling the same pulling in her arm.

“You don’t remember – of course not,” he murmured, seeming to be talking to himself. “You were a child…”

“What happened?” she demanded, suddenly growing angry. “Tell me!”

“I know you have heard the legends of the spirits, and all such things related,” he began calmly. At a nod, he continued. “You – we – are the Covenant.”

“No way,” Nevia choked, the word sending a shiver down her spine. “That’s not real…it’s just a myth…”

“The galaxy was once one – the spirits were once one – we were once one,” Salil informed her, sounding faintly impatient. “We were born together, you, I…the others as well. The pure expression of creation, the physical bond between the material and spiritual planes…destroyed with a human whim.”

“H-how…”

“Human ignorance…pride, the desire to best anything that presents itself as superior,” the spirit muttered, and she sensed he was growing angry. “We were torn apart from each other, cast into the human world as incomplete pieces of the true form. Left alone, to fend for ourselves until the day came we could reunite with each other.”

“But…what does that have to do with me?” Nevia asked hesitantly. “I’m a human…aren’t I?”

“The human body, the vessel we were chosen to be cast into,” Salil corrected her. “You are not whole either – not wholly human, and incomplete as the spirits who roam the land.”

“I don’t understand!” Nevia said in frustration, and he looked at her in surprise.

“We are a part of you, Nevia,” he told her patiently. “We belong to each other, you and I. You, and the others who are alone.”

Nevia stared at him, slack-jawed in shock, and the silence hung over them like humid air for a long while before Salil spoke again.

“Surely you felt it – that is why your arm pains you,” he explained. “That human body is merely a vessel – a host. You yourself are a spirit as well, residing in a human body. Each spirit stands for a part of the galaxy, the intricate creation that was compacted inside the human body.”

“I’m not…human?” she repeated weakly, slowly lowering herself to the ground as her legs gave out.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “You are not. Your name – Nevia – it means life. You are the ‘head’ of the seven spirits, so to speak. I am water, Salil – the left arm.”

“You mean…”

“I shall show you,” Salil decided, and reached for her once more. She stared, mute, as he touched her arm, and a glow seemed to encompass them and light up the small cave. In what seemed to be like slow motion, the spirit appeared to shrink into himself, reaching farther into her body. Moments passed, and she shrieked when a flash blinded her, and she found the spirit gone. Surprisingly, her arm felt…what most would describe as being solid, having a sudden weight to it that wasn’t there before.

“Oh my god,” she breathed, her heart beating faster than was healthy.

“You see?” the voice asked in her head, and she instinctively knew it as Salil’s. “I am part of you – we all are. Please, you must believe me, and accept this. If you do not…”

“I…don’t know what…” she began, before falling backwards in a faint. She vaguely felt something wrapping around her, cushioning her blow, but was unaware of anything else other than the crashing of the waves inside her head.

Author's Note

Just any thoughts, opinions, etc.