My Song and My Soul

[Dawn OOC]

This (very) short story is one of my oldest (complete) ones, from 1996-ish. It is not related to any game.

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My life was changed that night. Such simple words, but meanings and changes caused by them are staggering, even now, so many days after.

So many days...

He came from the storm. And was drawn away again. When will he be back? Will he come back? He said he would.

I scan the sky eagerly. The clouds are dark. There might be a storm tonight. Tat, my orange tabby, stretches against my leg. I sit down to pet her, and remind myself that I must put her in her carrier tonight. If he comes, I don't want to leave her behind. And my bag. I must put the cat carrier and my suitcase by the door. There's not much in the suitcase, just a few knickknacks and heirlooms from my parents. They are precious to me but I can live without them.

The waves pound and my heart pounds with them. I want to cry and dance, all at once, but I settle for picking Tat up and heading to the house. I have to do a few things before tonight. I stop suddenly. Silly girl, he may not come tonight. Don't act like he is on his way, I think. The thought that he might not come makes my heart sink. To have to wait for the next storm, when the season for storms is almost over! I can hardly breathe with that thought, it pains me so.

Perhaps I can pretend that he hasn't come yet. Then the winds hit my tiny cottage and the waves roar. And any thought of pretending becomes ludicrous. So I fix some macaroni and cheese, forgetting for a moment, until I remember, and it makes me want to cry. But I hold back the tears until I'm finished with dinner, until I realize that the only way to pass this night in any sort of peace is to think of that first stormy night.

The night when he came to me.

I curl into my recliner, close my eyes and enter that sweet memory.....

Tat rubs my leg, demanding that constant attention as all cats do. I reach down and absently pick her up, placing her in her favorite position against my stomach. I am reclining in my favorite chair, the old recliner of my dad's. The poor old thing has been repeatedly restuffed, and is battered beyond repair. But it was Dad's and I wouldn't trade it for any piece of furniture.

The sudden peal of thunder startles me, and I jerk my head up from the romance novel I'm reading. I look at the time, wondering where it went. Oh, well, I think. I haven't much now to do with my lime, why should I cure where it goes?

Tat suddenly launches herself off my lap, painfully digging in her claws, dashing to the window. I laugh at the silly beast as I go to fix my supper. I can't decide what I what I want. so I finally just make some boxed macaroni and cheese. I have to make a double portion, though; I don't have any smaller boxes. I sigh, and decide to just refrigerate the rest.

I have the macaroni cooked and am getting ready to drain it when Tat jumps on my foot. My heart stops as I nearly drop it on her. "You stupid cat!" I cry, more from fear than anger. Tat is the only friend I have in this strange new' country. She looks at me and I notice that something is wrong. Her ears are constantly swiveling and she keeps darting worried looks around. When I try to pick her up she jumps away and runs into the next room. I shake my head in the manner of all cat owners around the world and write off the odd actions as typical, but never really understood, cat behavior.

I mix the cheese powder and milk, then start into the living room to eat. Tat burst around the comer, slides three feet on the linoleum, then dashes back into the living room. I shake my head again and resume position in the recliner, pick up my novel and read again. Well, I try to, but Tat makes the most hideous meow. I look at her and realize that she is staring at the door. "Is there another cat out there, honey?" I ask. I go and pick her up, but she never takes her eyes from the door. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end and I hold her tighter. She doesn't protest. By now I know it isn't a cat that is upsetting Tat.

Then I hear a soft singing. The tune sounds Celtic, and the words are indistinguishable over the wind. I step toward the door, only to have Tat wiggle free of my arms and position herself between me and the door. I keep walking toward the door. Tat's cries become a faint sound as the song weaves a web around my will, pulling me toward the door. So sad..., why was it so sad?

I open the door, but Tat jumps against it and it slams shut. I wrench it open, and, ignoring the rain, step out. Tat, despite her fear of water, follows; to protect me, I think. In the dark night, I follow the sound. Down to the shore, where even the raging sea couldn't block the sound of the song. And there, on the small hill that the locals called the fairy mound, danced a small group of people. I watch in wonder, awed at their grace and beauty. My eyes literally hurt from watching their beauty. And then they start to fade. "NO! "I cry. "Don't go!"

And one of them hears me. I see him turn, and our eyes meet. "Please," I whispered. And he leaves the dance, tossing down his instrument, running toward me.

His mouth moves, but I can not hear him. Even the song fades. And yet he runs still.

And just before the light fades, he leaps forward.

I was running without realizing it, straining toward him, my hand reaching for him. For one horrible moment I think I have lost him. And then I catch his hand.

We both fall to the sand together, panting. After a long moment, we look up. He is incredible. Hair of blackest obsidian, a face that a model would kill for. And his eyes--his eyes!—they are an unearthly shade of gold. I can only stare.

"You are beautiful," he suddenly whispers, and I blush.

"No," I said. "I am not. But you, you are indescribable." I am surprised at myself. I'm not usually like this.

He smiles. "You underestimate yourself. To me, you are incredible." In one, impossibly smooth movement he rolls to his feet. then offers me his hand. I take it gladly. And he does not release it when I am up. And we began to walk down the beach.

Suddenly he stops and looks down. Tat is sitting on his foot, looking very wet and very angry.

"Oh, Tat!" I cry. "You poor thing!"

"Tat?" he asks.

"This is Tat, my cat," I pick her up and try to hold her so the rain won't hit her anymore.

He takes her from me gently and slips her under the odd cloak he was wearing. I am surprised.

"You know, you're very lucky," I said, "She doesn't like strangers."

He chuckles. Even his chuckle is wonderful. "Oh, I'm no stranger." He looks at me, slightly shyly, and said, "You are my soulmate. are you not?" I am too shocked to respond. He looks deep into my eyes and said, "I recognized it even as we faded from from this world. Did you not feel it too? Is that not why your soul calls to mine?"

I stare at him, slightly scared. I had just met this man, and already he was talking forever. But I am even more scared by myself. I would go anywhere with him, leave everything, and I didn't even know his name. But he had just called me his soulmate, and he didn't know my name either.

And he could be my soulmate anytime.

"What is your name, and what are you?" I ask.

He frowns. "Please don't ask me that. Not yet. Let's just enjoy each other."

I suppose I should have been suspicious. But I trust him completely, a deep trust I had never had for anyone in my life. I lay my head on his shoulder. And we walk down the beach.

Before long I am shivering. He gives me Tat again and picks me up, carrying me to my house.

"I don't have much to offer," I said, "just macaroni and cheese."

He smiles. "You dry off and get warm. I'll fix something to eat."

When I get back, he was hesitantly trying the macaroni. "How is it?"

He said, "It pales to the food I have in the...back home that is."

I nod. "I never was that great of a cook."

He looks suddenly sad, and a thought came out of nowhere. He has to leave.

He suddenly pushes aside his bowl and says, "I don't have much time. Soon, they will be back for me, and I must return with them. But I want you to wait for me." His eyes are pleading with me. "I have a few things I must do, but will you wait for my return?"

I don't answer immediately, and he continues. "I know that a beautiful woman like you must have several men desiring you. But I need you." He takes my hand and presses it to his heart. His eyes close as if in pain. "Without your touch, I feel empty. Please, say you'll wait."

"Yes," I whisper, "I'll wait."

His smile is filled with relief. Then he looks at the floor and says, "1 can't tell you my name, but I don't have to." his eyes searched mine. hopeful, expecting. And a name came to my lips. "Brionon."

He nodded. "And you are Joy, my song and my soul."

The song came again. My chest tightens with pain. I look at him hopelessly, just as hopelessly as he looks at me.

The song grew louder, and together, as one, we take each other's hand, and walk toward the music.

At the base of the hill, I stop. He stops, too. And I knew that if I asked him, he would stay. He would leave that bright place that promised to be beautiful and wonderful, all for me. But this world was not his, and would destroy his beauty, inner and outer, and I could not do that to him. He takes me in his arms, and it is all I could do to release him.

He starts up the hill. There was music again, but most of the people are watching us. He steps into the light, and they surround him. I can't breathe, the void he was leaving was choking me, killing me.

He turns to me, peering over their heads. I can't look at him anymore. This is destroying me. I turn away. I see my shadow begin to fade, I knew that they are leaving.

And then he cries, "Joy! Look for me in a storm like this!"

I turn back. I can barely see him. "I'll wait! I'll be here when you get back!" And he is gone.

I walk back to my house, and put the leftover macaroni and cheese up. Then I cry for the rest of the night.

The next day I begin to put my life in order. I want to be sure I had everything taken care of before I left. I sold all my property but this cottage, and set my will in order. I add a clause that after a year, I wished to be declared dead if I disappeared. I left the cottage to my sister, and packed what I wanted in a little bag. I wrote a note on my computer for my sister, telling her not to worry, that I had found what I wanted. And then I settled down to wait.

The locals considered me to be slightly crazy after that, I think. I once heard one of them call me the storm lady, because I always got excited when a storm came. They considered it very odd that I was young, attractive, and apparently single, yet uninterested in their young men. And they were attractive, but I was waiting.

And so I lived, lonely and living from storm to storm...

The lightening flashed again. Tat's ears suddenly came up. She gave the oddest meow, then dashed into the kitchen...

With a gasp, I heard the first faint strains of music. I snatched at Tat as she dashed by, and incredibly, I caught her. She was then stuffed hastily into her carrier, and I was out the door in two seconds. I raced through the wind and rain to the fairy hill. My feet flew by themselves, so familiar with the path was I, and even the bag and the carrier could not slow me down.

The light was just appearing on the hill. Everyone was dancing and singing. All but one. He was standing away from the others, peering into the night, waiting.