A Short Story | Blogtober Day 6

Hello everyone! So I was definitely at a loss for today’s Blogtober post. So please accept this brief work-in-progress scene from a story I am working on as payment.

This post has not been edited yet. The names are also tentative, so be kind. I am aware there isn’t much of a back story for you, but maybe that will be half the fun!

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Among the fallen rocks she sought refuge. A place she frequented in her parents’ divorce and later her mother’s death, the shoreline provided Clara with a clear mind. There was calm in matching her breaths with the ebb and flow of the waves. One-two-three in, one-two-three out.

But more than breathing was needed right now. Trapped between the fear of what her future holds if she decided to follow the Seer’s plan and what would happen to the world if she declined, Clara felt her options dwindling. So she ran as far as the earth would permit.

The ocean waves collided with the rocks drenching her hair and sweater. The cold was more than welcomed. Clara felt her nerves finally wakening to what was now right in front of her.

She could run. She could run for the rest of her life. But the only way to escape the Seer was to never dream again.

But Clara wasn’t sure she wanted to escape. Every dream she ever had was real. The good and the bad, the mundane and the fantastic- it was all true.

Why would she want to run away from saving her world and the reality she always wished was real?

Then that was it. She had to go into Floura and fight to keep both worlds alive.

As the resolve set in and Clara rose to her feet something flashed in the water and made her pause. Was that a hand?
It was. A shimmering hand was sliding out of the water and…waving? Yes, it was most definitely waving.

Clara found her feet stumbling down the rocks and into the wet sand. Without reasoning she was carrying herself towards the water. A fog had filtered through her mind leaving only the desire to dive into the depths of the ocean after the owner of that hand.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Clara became shockingly aware of the freezing water soaking her jeans up to the knees. How had she gotten here?

“Seriously, I wouldn’t take another step.”

Clara turned to see the source of the voice: a tall, slender man, not much older than herself, stood upon the rocks she had just been sitting. His eyes were the fairest blue, standing out bright from the richest olive skin she’d ever seen.

Then her gaze found the ears that pointed out from under the mess of dark hair, drenched by the ocean mist.

“You must be the Seer’s son. Good to know there’s no hiding from you people.”

“You should really get out of the water now.”

“What? Why?” Clara’s eyes returned to the water and immediately the fog from before began creeping in, her mind refocusing on the hand she had seen.

And then her feet were sliding up and out of the water. Her mind was clearing once more when she found herself standing back above the water on the rock edges.
The Seer’s son had carried her from the water.

“What keeps happening to me?” Clara gasped in confusion.

“Mermaids, at least that’s what your world calls them. In Floura they are known as Drowners. They have a way of luring the curious into the water. You don’t want to know what they do once you’re down there.”
“That hand I saw, that was a…Drowner? I’ve spent more time on this beach than in my own home and I have never seen one before.”

“Things have changed now.” With these words there was a flash of what looked like excitement across his face. But in an instance it vanished. “You’ve met the Seer, you have the ability to see the inhabitants of Floura living in your world now. I would get used to the strange, you’ll be getting a great deal of it.”

“I think someone should have told me that before I almost lost my life to the Little Mermaid.” Clara’s body was now shaking from her soaked jeans, and she wanted nothing more than to go home and change.

“Lucky for you, I was here. My job is to assist and protect you. With me you’re safe, I give you my word.” The excitement was back in his eyes again and this time it was staying.

“I’m Clara by the way.”

“My name is Roland,” as he spoke his name he bent at the waist into a low bow.
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