Dalliah

The initial shock of the cold is enough to wipe the air from my lungs in one powerful blow. Every inch of my skin burns with the sting of the saltwater forced against me, and I can’t see a thing due to the hair in front of my eyes or the fact that the moon’s light can’t reach me in here.

I’ve never experienced weightlessness until now, you know, the feeling of floating with nothing to tie me to the earth any longer and it’s crazy to think people enter these waves for fun.

Dying is something I’ve had to consider for a while now, my name being my warrant and all, but to go like this isn’t something I’d ever have expected if I were to guess. It’s too cruel, even for my track record.

The extreme temperature causes an ache deep in my bones, and I doubt even if I could swim, that I’d be able to in these conditions. Maybe if it were warmer I’d have more hope of being saved, but it’s the middle of the night and nobody will have seen me out here anyway. The sooner I accept my fate the better.

I picture my mother and wonder if she’s waiting for me on the other side. Will I feel better over there and will we finally be able to stay together now that it’s ending?

My dreams of peaceful release are interrupted by a weight slamming into my waist, and if there was any air left in me, it’d have been long gone now. The impact makes it impossible for me not to inhale sharply and the salt attacks my throat with vengeance. I’m drowning, it’s happening.

Whatever it was that hit me, causes me to start to fall, but in what direction I couldn’t tell you, as the waves distort all sense of direction. It’s terrifying but I think it’s fair to say I’ve used up all of my fear already, so it barely reaches me.

My eyelids start to shut with my body giving up. The pain that bites at every inch of me is the new normal and it’s as if I’m finally past caring. My last goodbyes are fussy and incoherent even in my own mind, though I swear I can hear something, even through all of this water.

Like one of the waves about to crash into the sand, I rise up and into the air. I don’t know how it’s possible and my eyes strain open to see what’s happening, all before I feel my body slap back down. But instead of returning to the sea, I find myself pressed against a hard surface.

It hurts, but not as much as the cold.

Wet clothes cling to me now that I’m exposed to the air, and I feel someone hitting my back until all of the water I’ve swallowed comes out in a bitter swoop. My ears ring as they empty of liquid and I find it hard to balance when trying my best to sit up. Going from weightlessness back to normal isn’t something I’m used to, and every moment feels like I’m fighting to be free of the earth’s pull.

“Dalliah!” Muffled shouts start to register through the haze and I have to remind myself to try again to open my eyes.

Three figures stand over me, details hard to process through the dark but I feel the fear from each of them hitting me like bricks. Who are they? How did they save me?

“Dalliah, can you hear me?”

Words are sharper now when they reach me and for a second the voice sounds familiar. It soothes over me like a layer of honey, but with enough grain to it to scratch itches I didn’t know were inside. What a lovely sound.

“Avery get a surgeon! Tedric, your coat!” The voice yells, getting more desperate as it goes on, but I like it all the same.

I’ve never been exposed to much music other than my own dreadful attempt or the snippets of the Red King’s court, but this might be it. After all, it’s a sound heard in a way that brings pleasure, and that’s the definition of music I can remember anyway. It’s possible I might have it all wrong, as at this point I don’t even know what I don’t know. But it’s nice and I keep listening.

“Dalliah, I’m going to carry you to the Inn now, okay?” It calls to me but the meaning behind the words doesn’t find me. “Stay with me!” It’s an order I think, though the language must be a foreign tongue compared to the ones I’m used to.

A sharp pain worms its way down my throat and chest and I realise I must have tried to reply. But what’s the point? I doubt they’d understand what I have to say and even I’m unsure of the message.

There’s nothing left for me here, my family is waiting on the other side. All I can guess is maybe it was a panicked attempt to make sure the world knows who I am before I’m gone. That there was one more person left of the Leverer name, and she’s ready to join her people.

After the initial pain dulls to be just another one of my many aches, I give up and hold my tongue. My spirit seems to travel in and out of my body as I come to terms with what has happened.

Somehow I didn’t drown out there, or at least I don’t think I did. There were three bodies standing over me, helping me breathe and I can feel myself getting warmer now. Though anything would be warmer than the water, I guess.

“Risk of pneumonia,” cuts through the haze, along with “Careful watch on her.” But again the words only wash over me. Maybe one of those three will understand what it means, and what needs to be done next because I for one am lost.

Though if I’m to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure I want to be found.

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