Tears of Leyden

by Baysinger-Ott, Naomi

  “Lyra!” It is sob, a yell, a call, a need.

  It is also real.

  I am too weak to respond. Rocks slide a little away and I can hear his harsh breathing now, coming in rattling exhales. His steps are wavering, stumbling and his tension apparent.

  “Lyra…” He exhales it and inhales it, my name, as though it is just as needed as the air he breathes. “Lyra…Lyra Thimlet…Orange…”

  I beg him silently in my thoughts to see me. There are a few more steps. A rock moves an inch away.

  “Lyra…” It is a needing breath. Then, another rock moves. “Lyra…?” It is questioning. “Lyra?” It grows sure. “Lyra!” It is a gasping assertion.

  There are the sounds of rocks moving and being thrown aside. I feel a lightness come over my body as the rocks are moved. I feel the world spin around me as fresh air meets my skin. There is a shuffling thump and he is in the fallen rocks with me.

  “Lyra,” it is a sob now.

  Another few rocks are scooped aside, and I feel strangely exposed to nature’s elements, like I have been clothed in the rocks and now am bare. There is an awful pause again where I feel alone as the rocks continue to scratch and roll off. I feel off course from where I wish to be, but it only takes the presence of his arms holding me to be no longer lost.

  “Leifde,” he breathes.

  It is pained and soft, uncertain and fearful. It renders my soul.

  I cannot open my eyes but I can feel him slowly bending in around me, his face hovering inches away. He delicately cradles me, careful as though I might crumble to pieces in his arms. And I might, considering that I don’t know what I look like after being crushed. His warmth fills me with a nurturing antidote, and slowly I am able to feel more conscious. I gradually recognize my head is lying on his arm, and wiggle my toes to feel that my legs lie limply along the ground. I still cannot open my eyes. I breathe calmly but cannot respond. He gingerly touches my profile, and lightly I feel him lace his fingers in my hair. I continue to breathe and be unable to speak or make any indication of feeling anything he does. His breath trembles out and his fingers brush back down to their support along my back.

  “Lyra,” it is hardly audible but it is there.

  I remain silent and barely conscious. He tentatively bows his neck and gently rests his face against mine. As I do not complain, after a moment of silence he softly moves his face closer and further along my outline. He gently draws me into my refuge. He lingers here a while, feeling me for any loss of breath or pulse and occasionally letting his breath out stronger than usual.

  I breathe lightly against his neck and feel him above me and his warmth against me, all else seems delusional. Even he seems unclear to my mind’s adherence. I slowly feel a little better, and laying here my form begins to feel more real about me. I do not stir, but my lashes flutter lightly against his cheek. He slowly draws back and I can feel him watching me. I feel dizzy and my head hurts, but my eyes weakly open. I see only his blurred face and frame, but it still shows him I am going to be alright. He looks feverish and flushed from what I can make out, but gradually he is altered. He dives in and his face is once more against mine. “Nade…” I can’t seem to form his name properly. It doesn’t matter; he presses his face to the side of mine.

  “Lyra…beloved Lyra…” He lets the words tumble out in smooth murmurs against my cheek.

  I lose the strength and close my eyes. “Gilch…”

  His tender skin below the jaw finds my face and I disregard my state of pain and press to him. He exhales along my skin. I feel him relax and pull me closer. I can’t take it anymore, and despite the sharp pins and needles I scoop my arms around his neck.

  “Be gentle with yourself,” he whispers softly.

  I do not listen and bring him near to me, letting myself feel his closeness. He burrows in and I hang on, not willing to let him go.

  “Lyra…I’m sorry…this shouldn’t have happened to you…”

  I feel sick, and have to force it out in a breath. “Nadeje, I want you to take me away,” it stops him.

  He feels firm against me, secure and good. “Where?” He sounds as though he would do anything.

  “Just away…”

  He is unsettled. “I don’t know where away is.”

  I breathe slowly, trying to ignore the throbbing in my head. “I want to be with you.”

  He is light against me. “I need you to be treated…where are the nearest doctors?”

  I hear the sounds of thunder and lightning crackle in the sky, sending a flash against my eye lids. I feel him reposition against me, blocking out the rain.

  “You will catch cold…” He whispers it in that manner of half to me, half to himself.

  I feel my head spin as I tilt it one way and a sharp pain runs through my neck. I gasp at the tremor and he draws back worriedly. I see his eyes flashing in the lightening above again and let the pain drift from my face in order to not worry him. He cups my face with his hand and lightly brings his to mine. Our noses tickle each other and it is difficult not to smile or cry.

  “I promise to keep you safe now,” he whispers.

  I trust him.

  I feel his shoulders tense and hands tighten on their hold, and without much exposure to my pain he quickly rises. In a second, he is on his feet and holding me in his arms. He pulls me flush with his body and I lean and sink into his chest, letting the breaths come long and rattling now. He buries his face along my hair and I try to keep my arms slipped around his neck, despite the rising want to disintegrate to nothing amongst the debris.

  “Lyra,” he murmurs. “I need you to guide me…if you can remember where the closest cavern is we would be safe there…”

  I cannot remember. I feel his closeness dawn on me and grow tingly inside despite the spinning world around me. I feel his arm wrapped around my back, and the other beneath my legs. I swallow.

  “I can’t…”

  He grows uneasy and lifts his face to look up at our surroundings. “I should be able to find one…”

  “Nadeje,” it is soft and wanting. I do not know how I found it behind the discomfort, but a desire to stay close matches the wish to be painless.

  He softens and comes back to me. “Leifde.”

  I want to tell him to take me somewhere where we can be alone, of my dreams, but I am weak and know that there are more things going on around us than I have thought about in the past five minutes. So I settle with “I love you”. It is all I say, but I know he feels it deeper than the pain, and this is all that matters to me.

  “I need to carry you?” It is soft and gentle, full of assurance and love back to me.

  I nod lightly. He gathers me up a bit more, and still cradling me, he starts away.

  The rain patters down still in a haze, yet the thunder threatens us with flashes of its companion. I watch the back of my lids for the light which illuminates the sky, and when it comes I feel strangely like something more is coming. My head still thuds lightly, but it is waned down to something in the back of my mind.

  There is a creaking splash and I realize Nadeje has stopped in his tracks. My eyes open and I unbury my face from his neck to make out the scene in the distance. It is blurry at first, and the rain does not assist me in a positive manner, but there is a flash and I catch something through and over the breaks in the wall. There is the delusion of a big red piece of tarp waving in the air…no…a flag. There is an image of men working to raise the sails and I catch sight of a massive body of some sort. I recall the shape and the color of the flag and feel Nadeje’s reaction as I do mine. It is the Spanish ship.

  There is another round of yells and a large smash and sprays of water. A flash lights the way, and I see a second boat to the far left, coming in. I could not see the flag. I do though, know one thing. The Spanish one was leaving.

  I feel fear grip me and wait for the moment when Nadeje would tense and hesitate to stay. I feel him against me and feel his pulse through his neck against my ear. It
jumps and starts running, but he remains and calmly lets it go without him.

  I feel relief but remain silent, letting him feel whatever he needs to feel without me interrupting him. There is another loud splash and a creaking bang and I know the ship is having difficulties leaving its port. I try to stay still for his sake, but a chill runs through me and I shiver against him. He feels it, and his attention is redirected to me where it remains. He defensively draws me closer and cuddles me to him. I both love and regret it, the guilt of his loss undeniable. I swallow dryly and tuck my head back in the crook of his neck. Then, another splash brings him back to the ship.

  I can feel something inside him slowly turning like an instinct for his home. Though, as I look up, it is not the thought which fears me, but the sight of the two ships heading off into the night and one coming in. I can’t make out anything but the dark form floating over the water. Nadeje stiffens a little as though this was not calculated by him, and as though he knows why his people left. He watches it keenly a moment, and as it continues its straight forward path, he seems to become more sure of something.

  He moves his feet as though uneasy. “They’re running full speed…” He murmurs to himself. I do not understand, and my head feels worse as I try to.

  “Nadeje…my head…”

  He finds me at the faintness of my voice. His eyes watch me sincerely. “Where do most caverns lie?”

  It is simple, but it does not register well as my head throbs.

  “Nadeje, I can’t remember…”

  There is a chorus of shouts far off and I see the Spanish ship sailing out as lightening surges through the dark.

  He understands, but for once he does not act. “Lyra…I need you to hold on for me…” He watches me, waiting for any protest. “I need to warn your people…of…how…mph…” he seems unsure. “If I left you to rest in a warm place would you be alright?”

  I feel my heart drop down to my stomach and begin to feel dizzy. He didn’t mean…for long…why…? I remember the Spanish ships. I feel my heart jump with disquiet. He wouldn’t leave me…would he?

  “How long?” I request.

  He seems truthful. “As long as it takes.”

  My head pounds. “What takes?”

  He scans my face once and seems not contented with the emotion he finds. “I need to keep something from happening…I do not wish to worry you…”

  I give him a pleading look. “It worries me more when I do not know if…”

  There is a rumble and the sound echoes through my head what feels like ten times.

  “I will be back for you in a few hours…at most.”

  It is a promise.

  I feel partially relieved, but my head most definitely is the opposite. “Nadeje…I don’t think…the wall…it hit…”

  His face grows concerned. “You’re hurt?”

  I watch him weakly as tears sting my eyes and I can only manage an indistinct nod. He sees them I know not how through the rain, but he soon has me against him and is carrying me on our path again. It takes us a minute to enter into a dryer place, but even as we do I still feel the cold bite into my ears and cause sharp pricks along my fingertips and toes. I feel exhausted and a little suffocated. I close my eyes and feel a drift coming. Then, there is another loud crash. I hear the familiar sounds of rocks tumbling down and before I can make myself believe otherwise I grip him tightly, feeling as though at any moment rocks would bury me away.

  Nadeje feels my reaction and gentles, but does not stop. “It is alright…nothing can touch you…you’re here with me now…nothing can fall on you without my consent first…”

  I relax slightly but still feel unsure of my place. I feel rain drip down my neck and tremble into his chest at the cold.

  I grow unconscious of his comforting murmurs and the words are lost in the wind. I feel uncomfortable and my stomach feels as though it could turn inside out if I moved, yet, I begin to wriggle in my position and push closer to something that makes me feel here; Nadeje. Through the burning ache and spinning in my head I begin to feel his steps becoming more hurried. We pass a few entry ways and I can’t help but want to scream to let us in. The blurriness spreads from my head to all my senses. It is hard to feel the cold against me, to hear past the thumps against the ground as Nadeje walks, and to see as I occasionally open my eyes to remind myself that he is still with me. I try to stop it, but it only pains me more to try to push it away.

  The sickness continues to run through my body and gradually I feel nauseous. The urge to vomit is hastening to my throat but I manage to hold it down. I hear a soft thudding on a hard surface and try to peek out from my heavy lids. After a moment, there is a seam of light and a face becomes visible behind a door. There are a few seconds of hurried conversation, and slowly the door opens all the way. I hear the sound of a door creaking shut behind us and the warmth in the new space assures me of safety.

  I feel the soft thumps on the floor as Nadeje carries me through the door. The light inside is soft but too bright to keep my eyes open. I drift in and out of consciousness. There are the sounds of pans touching and water running and I feel myself being laid down. The moment my body touches the soft surface I feel the full bodied impact of the fever. My eyes flutter open to find Nadeje leaning over me and then close. There are words which I cannot understand and my eyes flicker open to see two forms standing a distance from the bed facing each other. I lay here dizzily without thinking of anything. I feel dazed, and gradually grow exhausted beyond belief. The warmth of the room does nothing to help the chills inside me, and progressively, I can’t seem to feel the warmth at all.

  There is a soft presence against my forehead and I hear the muffled sounds of speech again. A few moments after it is removed, there is a more familiar touch to my cheek. Darkness shades my lids and I feel someone hovering very close; Nadeje. His face brushes my ear and I hear him softly say things to me I cannot understand. He lifts away. There are some distant words and I do not fight to try to hear. I feel myself being lifted and when laid back down there is a ruff surface beneath my head like a towel.

  Something warm laces through my fingers for a brief moment. All falls silent. I know it is Nadeje even though I cannot see him. He slides away. As I lose his touch, there are a few soft thuds of footsteps out of the room. I feel suddenly more uncomfortable. I am drawn back to the quiet of the chamber as I feel a cool pressure being brushed across my forehead. It wakes me a little and I wearily lift my lids and look out to see my surroundings. I am met by a blurry face. It clears only partly. I can see enough that it is not Nadeje. Two ice blue eyes catch mine, and the soft face of a woman is all I grasp before my eyes shut.

  I am slowly pulled back awake as I feel myself no longer on the flat surface. I drowsily try to feel where I am, but I know it is useless. I feel arms around me and the support of my head is against something warm; Nadeje. I try to open my eyes to see him, but as they do I find my vision is still vague. I force them to adjust for me.

  I find it not to be Nadeje. It is a man with kind green eyes, and even as I cannot see details I make out a tint of red in his skin. I am too weak to question it and once more I doze off into dimness.

  There is a prick in my wrist and I feel my body waken slowly. I frown a little though it is difficult as pain runs down my arm. The pain is not terrible, but it does contribute to the rest of my discomfort and my eyes find their way open. At first I see only shadows and light, and then murky forms. Gradually my eyes open to a clearer perception. I turn my head a little to the left, where my wrist lies. Once more the figure of a woman is at my side and when I find my wrist the familiar burning I feel is accepted. Two hands balance my arm across the bowl, and slowly red fluid trickles down from where she had cut me to bleed. I know the procedure to be for when someone is ill and needs to get the sprite out of their body. It is a well-known medicinal practice, one I have seen and experienced; done to my little sister and experienced during a fever when I was about thirteen, but all th
e same it is irritating and hurts.

  A thudding sound causes me to look out beyond the woman and I find a man leaning in the doorway. He has the same kind green eyes and red face that I know belong to the man who held me. He is middle aged and looks weary, but the tired features of his face decrease as his eyes level with mine.

  Nadeje? My mind speaks softly to me, a reminder of reasoning with where I am. Where has he gone? I look for him but find nothing. I hear the woman speaking to the man and I suppose he must be her husband. My eyes return to her and I weakly watch as her eyes come back to mine. She looks at me sympathetically and I know I do not know her. I want to ask her of my thoughts, but I cannot find my voice. Soon I find the darkness again.

  I waver awake and asleep constantly; my eyes flickering to find the man and woman or one of the two. I am not alone yet I feel as though I am. My eyes never open to find Nadeje.

  There is a crash and I sickly open my eyes to look around. I see the man hurrying out of the room and for some reason his race makes me feel unsteady. I scent something close to me that smells like broth and in seconds I find myself upright on impulse. There is no time for me to cry out, but somehow I find an empty bucket on the ground and the woman is at my side to help me as I retch. I tremble as my stomach contracts and empties. When I am finished the woman gently takes the bucket aside and carefully helps me back down. My throat burns and I feel ashamed to have had to do such a thing with her help, but she seems alright with my actions and kindly cleans my lips with a napkin.

  My eyes close and I feel exhausted yet somehow realer than before, less drowsy. I feel hands along my body and I am propped up in my place. I open my eyes to find the man holding me up as the woman shows me a cup of some liquid. I am too tired to argue as she touches it to my lips and I drink. It rinses my mouth and the taste of the vomit is lessened. The man sets me back onto the surface, and as I look more clearly I see I am on a bed in a small lamp lit room. Once more I look around, but Nadeje is not here.

  I feel sick again but know I am not able to throw up any more without something in my stomach. The man and his wife look at each other and speak something quietly. The man nods and heads off and the woman looks back to me. I groan a little as my eyes close but I drift off into a deep sleep.