***
Sevra awoke with a start, her nightgown and sheets soaked in sweat. She sat there shivering for a time, trying without success to warm up again under her blankets. It was still dark outside so she didn’t want to get up – Momma Lorna didn’t like it when she got out of bed before dawn. The dreams had come to her again, the ones where she felt like she was floating. She had gone outside during the night, around the village and into the woods. There were never any other people, only strange little strands of silver, like ribbons flitting and fluttering about. Even though she knew it wasn’t real, the dream scared her. It felt real.
She never actually left her bed, but always checked after these dreams to make sure she really hadn’t and tracked dirt back inside. Once satisfied she was only dreaming, she lay back down but was too afraid to go to sleep. What if she got lost when she was gone, or if Momma Lorna tried to wake her up and she wasn’t there? Or maybe she would be there still but unable to be woken up… the thought made her shiver. She wanted to tell someone about the dream but was too scared to. The other kids would just have another reason to be mean to her, and she didn’t want Momma Lorna to worry. No, the only option was to stay in bed until the sun came up and keep this a secret.
After what seemed an eternity, the sun finally began to peek into her window and she felt it was late enough to be a normal time to get up.
“Good morning Momma Lorna,” she said, entering the kitchen and sitting down.
“Hello, little one,” she answered with a warm smile.
Sevra smiled back despite her stormy thoughts; Momma Lorna always had a way of chasing them off.
“Can you be a dear and go to the gardens for me this morning?” Momma Lorna asked. “We need a few more peppers, tomatoes, lettuce, and carrots. It might take you two or three trips so you’ll want to get started soon.”
Sevra’s face broke into a big grin, one of the few times she managed to have a child-like expression. She hurried off, grabbing a handful of nuts to munch on and a basket to carry all the food back. She really liked the gardens, so colorful and alive. Momma Lorna explained to her that even the plants and trees were living things, in their own way. Sevra didn’t quite understand how that could be, but according to Momma Lorna there was a lot that a child simply wasn’t ready to understand. She accepted this as one of those things; the same way she accepted Momma Lorna wasn’t really her mother even though she didn’t really understand why she wasn’t with her parents.
It was still early and none of the other children were up yet, only little Zayden in his coveralls and work boots. He was barely old enough to walk but shadowed his daddy in every movement as he completed his morning’s tasks. The gardens were just beyond the last house along the trail, available for all to use. Momma Lorna always said it was better when everyone worked together and their vegetable garden was an example of that. Maybe it works that way for adults, she supposed. Kids were mean, so she usually preferred to be by herself.
The sun barely poked through the trees, glistening on the morning dew collected on the plants and leaves. Sevra began to collect a few of the vegetables, carefully arranging each one within her basket. She tested the weight after she’d pick a few, making sure it wasn’t too heavy for her to haul back. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the freshness of the world around her. It was all so beautiful it made her feel like singing, but she was sad at the same time, that no one else was there for her to share the song.
A small bead of water dripped onto her hand from the leaf of a pepper plant, shimmering as it caught the light. All around her the garden shone and sparkled, and she giggled in delight at the tricks the mischievous sun played this morning.
Her smile disappeared as she continued to observe the prisms reflecting off the water. At first she only pursed her lips, like she did when she was deep in thought. It devolved into a sense of terror though when she realized all was not as it should be. The grey and silver swirls she saw in her dreams encircled everything around her. The leaves, trees, plants, even her arms and shoulders were slowly enshrouded by them, so gradually springing into existence it was as if they had always been there; she only failed to notice them before.
She remained perfectly still, breathing heavily, too petrified to move. With great care she pinched her arm, making sure she wasn’t dreaming. Her nails broke skin from the effort, a small trickle of blood tantalizingly running down her arm. For some reason she was transfixed by it; nothing felt more real at that moment than the line of blood. In an instant her trance was broken, the world returned to normal and the swirling mists ceased to be. She was left with her half full basket, a pain in her arm and the morning clamor of bugs and insects awaking to the day in the heat.
Before returning home she cleaned off her arm, wiping the blood away with her finger and then onto the grass. Part of her wanted to tell Momma Lorna, but she didn’t want to worry her. The truth was she felt scared. What if there was something wrong with her, or worse, maybe she did something bad and might get in trouble? No, she couldn’t say anything to Momma Lorna, she decided. She would have to keep this and the dreams a secret, for as long as she needed to.
Manifestation
“Sevra, stop crying darling.” Lorna sat at the table, nursing the babe in her arms. All the years that had passed and deliveries she performed, she never gave much thought to having one of her own. What a blessing it was to hold her own son in her arms. The baby began to fuss, probably sensing that Sevra was upset and following suit. The poor girl wept frequently of late; as bright as she was she simply had a hard time making any friends. Lorna hoped over time she’d adjust, but Sevra seemed to shy away more and more each year.
“Yulan, would you speak to her please?” she asked in a tone that insinuated ‘No’ would not be an acceptable response. She and Yulan had been together nearly two years now, though in truth their courtship extended another several years’ worth of stolen glances and excuses to spend time together. Sevra had taken to him almost instantly; they seemed to bond closer than her and the girl ever had, without any effort. Lorna didn't begrudge him for it, though in truth it frustrated her at times.
Yulan looked up from his chair in the living room, setting his book down and readjusting his glasses with a single finger. He tapped out his pipe into the ash tray on the table next to him and waved the girl over. Sevra gave a forlorn look towards the baby and Lorna, and trudged over to Yulan.
“Come here with Uncle Yuley,” Yulan said through a strain as he reached forward and plucked Sevra onto his lap. “Now tell me what is troubling my little Sparklebug.”
She sat there for a while with her head half-tucked into his chest, staring off at the far wall while a few remaining tears ran down her face. Yulan didn’t press her; she’d always come around when she was ready.
“They’re so mean,” she finally said.
Earlier in the day one of the boys through a handful of mud on her dress while she was sitting close-by, pretending not to watch them play. Lorna went out to give them an earful when Sevra came home crying.
“You know Sevra, you’re a very special little girl,” Yulan said softly, “sophisticated and intelligent for one so young.”
Sevra sniffled.
“Boys on the other hand, are not. Men either for that matter, right Lorn?” he added with a grin.
“Mmm-hmm,” Lorna agreed absently, bobbing their baby on her knee. She loved Yulan, despite himself at times.
“That little boy probably just wanted your attention, and boys being what they are, that was the only way he could think to get it,” he added.
“That boy was out of line, Yulan,” Lorna disagreed, “honestly was he raised in a pig sty? Throwing mud, these kids have no manners these days.”
“Now now, I’m not saying it was right and I’ll see to it he apologizes tomorrow,” Yulan answered, “but unfortunately boys will be boys. I’m just trying to give the girl a little p
erspective.”
“It made me really mad,” Sevra said with her tiny lips pursed. She looked like an angry, porcelain doll on Yulan’s lap.
Yulan quickly interceded, whenever Sevra made that face it was usually followed by an explosion. As dainty as she was, she had the temper of a bull when it came out. “I’ll talk with their parents tomorrow. I’m sure they’re very sorry they upset you, honey.”
“They will be,” Sevra promised quietly. Yulan furrowed his brow and looked over to Lorna, who bore a similar expression of worry.
“Alright Sparklebug let’s get you to bed, you’ll feel better in the morning. Uncle Yuley will read you a story,” he said, picking Sevra up and carrying her off.
Lorna likewise took the baby over to his crib, tucking him in with a lullaby. He was such an easy child, thankfully sleeping through the night most of the time. His disposition was starkly different than Sevra’s was, even at only a few months old she could tell. This one was very easy going and rarely fussed, where she had needed everything done on a rigid schedule and was frequently anxious. Of course, she loved them both very much; it was just a matter of differences in their inborn personalities.
“Phew, she’s finally settling down. Kept getting herself all riled up about those boys,” Yulan said quietly when he came back. He chuckled a little, but it was more nervous laughter than genuine mirth.
“I worry about her, Yulan,” Lorna said, “she stays to herself too much. And I’m not saying those boys don’t deserve an ear-boxing, but she hangs on to every single slight and it festers. It’s not healthy.”
“She’s a sensitive little girl,” Yulan agreed, “wound up tight but that almost always comes with someone of her intelligence. She’ll be fine.”
“I just worry because of who her parents were, that father of hers…” Lorna began.
“You’re doing a great job raising her,” Yulan reassured, “taking her in like that. There’s no reason to think she’ll share the same malady that afflicted him.”
Lorna looked off into the distance, remembering that night over seven years ago. How time has flown, she thought. After a few weeks she returned to the farmer, but he seemed to have lost any semblance of sanity after his wife passed. For a while she occasionally checked in on him; as the years passed, his condition only grew worse.
“I was certain she’d be gifted,” Lorna said, shaking her head. “When you first saw her you said…”
Yulan stopped her with a raised hand and a shake of his head. “I stand by that. She is doubly gifted, considering what happened after her birth.”
She wondered if the gift he and Sevra shared, that Yulan said would take shape within the girl eventually added to the bond they shared. “It would have manifested by now, wouldn’t it? Didn’t you say by age five they always begin to show signs?” Lorna argued. “She needs more than I can give her, than this little village can give her.”
“I am certain she can touch the spirits,” Yulan reiterated. They had held this conversation so many times he’d nearly lost count. “I can feel it coming from her in waves, at some point it will be inevitable that she demonstrates it.”
Yulan walked over to where Lorna sat, placing his hand on her shoulder. She laid her chin on his hand, craning her head to look up at him. “Let’s get to sleep. I have some business to the south to tend to tomorrow.”
Lorna scowled. South only meant one place, Dalesford, and it was out of the ordinary for him to be summoned there these days.
“It’s probably nothing,” he said reassuringly, “maybe they just want to know why they haven’t seen me in so long.”
He laughed heartily, disarming her growing frown. Sighing, she relented and took his hand, allowing herself to be guided off to bed.