Her Dangerous Visions (The Boy and the Beast Book 1) by Brandon Barr Page A
Authors: Brandon Barr
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the cultures of a thousand worlds and had ships that sailed the stars, even they seemed to view the Makers as having abandoned the stars they brought forth. The Guardians took it upon themselves to act as peacemakers among the derelict worlds of a god forsaken universe. To safeguard the weak, and hold accountable the strong. There was a void, a silent, mysterious nothingness that was starving to be filled.
For her, the emptiness was swallowed up by her one treasured memory. When she felt like she was drowning in the river again, fighting for a hand hold, the questions surrounding her dark visions could not dislodge her from that beautiful encounter. She embraced it now, more than ever before.
So many years ago, she had fallen asleep, curled up in a treehole, the pounding rain drumming a soothing nightsong. When she awoke, she couldn’t tell the time, the stars hidden behind trees and clouds, but the darkness told her enough. Mother and Father would be out searching for her.
Rushing home in the dark on her surest trail, she reached the river. It sounded more furious than ever before. Nearly blind in the dark, she jumped down upon the first boulder at the river’s edge—but her feet hit fast moving water. The force knocked her legs out from under her and sent her face first upon the submerged boulder. The power of the rushing water raked her body against the boulder’s flat surface. Her fingers scraped desperately at the rock until her hand found a hold. Fighting the current, the frigid water whipped at her face, stabbing like icicles at her bare skin. Her fingers went numb, but still she pressed them into the hold as her body thrashed like a reed against the rock. The numbness spread into her body, the burn of her muscles turning to ice.
Desperate for a breath of air, she jerked her head up against the water biting at her face; the movement ripped her hands from their hold, and she was tossed, gulping for air, into the darkness of the torrent. Objects invisible in the night struck her, spun her, cracking her shins, striking the side of her head, and no matter how violently she willed herself to battle the downward pull, the cold slowly squeezed the fight from her body. Another blow. Her head throbbed. Darkness sucked her down into the deafening roar of the river. Arms and legs surrendering, she sank, holding on to the last traces of breath in her lungs, wanting death now, fighting for death, pleading for it to come quickly.
And then, like a dream, the being came. The most powerful arms she’d ever known wrapped around her. There was no sense of motion, just warmth. And she was no longer in the river, as if the river had faded from existence, and all was dark. The warmth of those arms seeped deeper and deeper until even her bones felt blanketed in heat, and she found herself sobbing with the ecstasy of the sensation.
No man could have entered that river. The arms holding her were not human, for they had restored her body so perfectly, it was as if the river had never been and the cold had never touched her bones. What had saved her?
And then something like a voice cut into her thoughts, I have you, my child .
The question, who , came instinctively to her mind, but before she could fully form it into who are you? , the voice came again.
You can call me Leaf. I am your Father and Mother. A Maker.
The words were so strange they sent her thoughts spinning. A Maker? A being as unreachable as the end of the universe? The question her nine-year-old thoughts had turned to were feeble and childish echoes of the question, why me ?
Child, your life carries a heavy load. On your shoulders stands many heroes, and under your feet the life of a Beast. Because you now live, a hundred worlds may yet live. I watched your life, always, and holding you close now, it is like having in my arms a baby still in the womb. Until we are reunited in the Faraway, I leave you with a call on your life:
The spirit of a seer will attach to you.
For her, the emptiness was swallowed up by her one treasured memory. When she felt like she was drowning in the river again, fighting for a hand hold, the questions surrounding her dark visions could not dislodge her from that beautiful encounter. She embraced it now, more than ever before.
So many years ago, she had fallen asleep, curled up in a treehole, the pounding rain drumming a soothing nightsong. When she awoke, she couldn’t tell the time, the stars hidden behind trees and clouds, but the darkness told her enough. Mother and Father would be out searching for her.
Rushing home in the dark on her surest trail, she reached the river. It sounded more furious than ever before. Nearly blind in the dark, she jumped down upon the first boulder at the river’s edge—but her feet hit fast moving water. The force knocked her legs out from under her and sent her face first upon the submerged boulder. The power of the rushing water raked her body against the boulder’s flat surface. Her fingers scraped desperately at the rock until her hand found a hold. Fighting the current, the frigid water whipped at her face, stabbing like icicles at her bare skin. Her fingers went numb, but still she pressed them into the hold as her body thrashed like a reed against the rock. The numbness spread into her body, the burn of her muscles turning to ice.
Desperate for a breath of air, she jerked her head up against the water biting at her face; the movement ripped her hands from their hold, and she was tossed, gulping for air, into the darkness of the torrent. Objects invisible in the night struck her, spun her, cracking her shins, striking the side of her head, and no matter how violently she willed herself to battle the downward pull, the cold slowly squeezed the fight from her body. Another blow. Her head throbbed. Darkness sucked her down into the deafening roar of the river. Arms and legs surrendering, she sank, holding on to the last traces of breath in her lungs, wanting death now, fighting for death, pleading for it to come quickly.
And then, like a dream, the being came. The most powerful arms she’d ever known wrapped around her. There was no sense of motion, just warmth. And she was no longer in the river, as if the river had faded from existence, and all was dark. The warmth of those arms seeped deeper and deeper until even her bones felt blanketed in heat, and she found herself sobbing with the ecstasy of the sensation.
No man could have entered that river. The arms holding her were not human, for they had restored her body so perfectly, it was as if the river had never been and the cold had never touched her bones. What had saved her?
And then something like a voice cut into her thoughts, I have you, my child .
The question, who , came instinctively to her mind, but before she could fully form it into who are you? , the voice came again.
You can call me Leaf. I am your Father and Mother. A Maker.
The words were so strange they sent her thoughts spinning. A Maker? A being as unreachable as the end of the universe? The question her nine-year-old thoughts had turned to were feeble and childish echoes of the question, why me ?
Child, your life carries a heavy load. On your shoulders stands many heroes, and under your feet the life of a Beast. Because you now live, a hundred worlds may yet live. I watched your life, always, and holding you close now, it is like having in my arms a baby still in the womb. Until we are reunited in the Faraway, I leave you with a call on your life:
The spirit of a seer will attach to you.
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