Crystalline grey eyes flicker open to the song of warm summer rain while a once luscious silk woven cloak slips off broad shoulders, the rotting fabric forming a pool around the kneeling figure. The tattered remnants of fanciful garbs cling to a soaking frame and what remains of a once beautiful braid tumbles off a shoulder coming loose forming a knotted mess . The maiden pays no attention to her state of self though as she stares in wonder at the scenery before her.
Thunderbolts sail through the empty space between the clouds and water's surface, never quite striking the liquid mirror that reflects them. As the sky's fire dances about it reveals a behemothic floral expanse which seems to continue forever, a never-ending paradise of massive water lilies. The alluring blooms of varying sizes appear to be weathering the storm above them with ease along with their gigantic pads that bob in the downpour. Beneath the rain's ripples all is motionless, a stillness that to most would be unnerving but to the current eye it is calming. Other than patters of rain and the rolling thunder everything was blissfully silent as if all life had disappeared except for the lilies and the being in awe of them.
She smiles softly, not questioning her own happiness, taking a moment to lay on her stomach and pillowing her chin in her hands as she watches the constantly changing patterns of the water. Closing her eyes, she takes a few moments to just listen, the constant pitter patter is like a mother's reassurance and the rumbles of the sky a father's protection. Together they weave a beautiful melody in the humid air, one of comfort and of home.
She knows this place is not home but perhaps it was the smell of fresh rain or the zing of electricity in the air that forms the same comforting blanket in her mind that the idea of home does. She feels serine even as some far corner of her mind is wondering why she could not remember where home is, nor whom she belonged too. She has no concern for such things at present though, not when the world is welcoming her so warmly.
Watching a rain drop glide off a lily's petal it comes to the young lady that while she was already wet, she did not receive the blessings of heavenly tears. She is a top one of the colossal lily pads so the rain should be hitting her but instead she could feel her chilled skin beginning to dry. Reaching out her quivering hand she begins collecting the sky's blessing, confirming that only her delicate fingers could feel the warmth of the gentle drops that pool together in her palm.
The maiden pushes herself onto her knees and looks up to find the underside of a lily pad. Observing the contrasting colours, from the pear tinted grid like supports to the sangria-stained base, she contemplates its beauty. The sight reminds her so fondly of a round stain glass window, one that could be stared at for hours in awe of how the light dances on its surface. She does not remember when she saw such a thing but knows she would enjoy dancing under the rays of vibrant coloured light that would seemingly flow with her.
Allowing her eyes to follow the veins to the centre and then along the stem she gasps, falling back onto her hands. With a widened gaze she takes in the great clawed fist propping up her shelter, bewitched by the lightning flashes glittering over chromatic jade and emerald scales. The constantly morphing waves of celestial light pushing forth a melancholic pain in the young lady's chest, like a distant memory of a long-vanished love.
She crawls forwards to place an open hand against of the grand appendage, feeling the smooth icy surface against her skin. Laying her head against the fist she turns her eyes to the being before her, she finds large eyes of a turquoise hue holding her gaze causing the world around to disappear.
The serpentine body remains perfectly still as an elegant head tilts slightly to allow a better view over its long snout, tendril like whiskers twitching as water droplets hit them. Searching within the maiden's eyes the creature finds what it was looking for before bending down to place its head beside her. The young woman gently begins caressing away the tears that spill from soulful eyes as she herself cries, not knowing if it is from pain or relief, so lost in emotion that she ignores her own odd shadow.
The two beings form an enchanting watercolour amongst the greens and blues of the waterscape around them paired with the dark evening backdrop. The lady even as dishevelled as she is appearing so divine with her twin sets of wings that hold a bright starlit night within them, sharp black feathers with shining flecks that emit a soft light. The creature despite missing its right arm a picture of power, spear like horns of marbled turquoise and moonstone twinkle with droplets. Together locking themselves in a place outside of time, to grieve forgotten memories and just exist in the comfort of the other.
"I am sorry," she whispers, tears making it difficult, "I do not… who are you?"
The creature lets out a whine and nuzzles against her body, its warm breath landing kisses along the damsel's cold skin. A whisker brushes against a rose-tinted cheek to wipe away tears that are soon to be replaced. The show gentle care only increases the rolling tears as the young woman throws herself over the being's head.
Clutching at the silken strands of the dark mane she tries to reach for her memories, but the threads of her mind are not strong enough. The only thing they touch is a single word spoken in many voices. She remembers not who the voices belong to just the word that is sung, laughed, screamed, cheered, cried and it is all she has left. A name is all that is left, an insignificant thing in the grand scheme of the world. All the knowledge she could have possibly possessed and the name Issuwa, her name, is all she gets.
Screaming out as she curses herself, blaming herself for not remembering, and demanding whatever divine being can hear her to return the library of memories missing. All she receives back is a deafening crack of thunder and a large muzzle pushing her into a sitting position. The creature's whiskers reach over collecting the abandoned cloak and wraps the fabric around a sobbing Issuwa, using edge of the damp cloth to clear her face.
The large scaly head moves back to observe its work, snout scrunching up a bit. It scans around for something as a most important object is missing from the picture before it, the perfect flower. Those large eyes land on the singular lotus amongst the lilies, soft pink with light yellow tips. Stretching out, still making sure to shelter Issuwa, the larger being picks the fragile blossom with its whisker to place it behind the smaller being's ear. It makes the perfect picture nestled against her chestnut-coloured hair, helping bring out the brightness of her eyes.
A watery smile forms over chilled lips as Issuwa ever so carefully touches the soft petals, the texture a familiar feeling, a balm to her crushed soul. It fills a small part of the hollow that is her spirit as does the happy chuff that comes from the creature, filling with pride over its work. She might not be able to grasp her memories in the swirling chaos of her mind, but she still knows this world deep within her bones.
This creation of endless water and stunning flora is not her home, but she knows she has a commonality with it. She belongs here for she shares water with plants and breath with her guardian, despite this not being wherever home is. The rains' melody tells her that this is where she is needed, no that she knows why, and the lotus in her hair lets her know that the home she has no memory of will always be waiting for her.
"Thank you… Thank you so much," she smiles, petting polished scales, "You are very sweet."
A singular whisker taps her on the forehead, making her giggle, before a large head gently nudges her to lay down. Issuwa does not fight the request and bundles up on her side, the scaly being curling around her while purring a soft song. The vibrations lull the young lady into a dreamless sleep, for dreams do not come to those without memories.
The creature puts down the lily pad as the heavens clear above leaving only pale moon light to bathe them. Flashes of times long past flitter behind his eyes as he stares at the Mother Moon, it has been such an enduring amount of time since he knew of anything other than the instincts to hunt. It is a strange feeling, being able to construct pictures in the mind after living so long without them, but the creature welcomes it. He had lost his sense of self many ages ago to the feathered ones and remembers now how they took everything.
This little one he has saved is a feathered one, but she feels different. She does not feel like one of those evil creatures, she instead has an identity that belongs only to her. Her very aura a calming blanket to the animalistic rage inside, the rage he could still feel growling but muted in the back of his consciousness. She is the same as him, the being knows it to be true, has lost everything and has nothing but pain left.
The pain blooming in his being becomes a tsunami as his mind's eye paints the forms of seven beings. Six males of varying ages are waving at him and a young girl who is holding his hand. The six waving all have brilliant dark green eyes with shimmering golden scales and brown hair. The eldest looking one throws a ball towards him and the girl, who let's go of his hand to catch it. As she turns to convince him to play, she becomes blurred to him, her visage out of focus as if someone has layered multiple faces on top of one another. The eyes are the only clear thing about her although the crystal orbs constantly change from a soft silver to an endless void of onyx.
The memory fades and his heavy heart tumps loudly as he stares at the Great Mother, he wonders if she has forsaken them before banishing the blasphemous thought. She would never, it was the feathered ones that had taken away her speakers, slaughtering them like game. He remembers stumbling out of hiding only to find them all dead, mutilated by those who should have bowed before them, still warm and not yet turned to stone.
The Moon has not given up on them, they would all be dead if she had. She is just waiting for her speakers to return to bond with her and share in her infinite knowledge. She has saved them as best she can while not able to communicate or share her powers. Although it appears to him that the Mother Moon's wait is nearly over as he stares at the unique little feathered one.
He takes one last glance at the glittering night sky, as a few stray tears fall from his gem like eyes. He misses them, he misses them all so much, but he does not know how to get them back or even if he can. He wants to dance along the lotus lagoons, frolic through the river grass and explore the twisting water ways with his friends again. All he understands is the Great Mother has given him a potential purpose, a hopeful task to help bring back what once was. Closing his eyes, he curls tighter around the fragile maiden, yes finding a way to restore home was his purpose now.