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Omri's Notes - Flower Memories

Courtesy of Omri Azar

  As with the prior section, this is a memory of memories. These accounts are in no particular order.

War Declared on Wayland
  Red and yellow flower.
  I�m in a feasting hall and I can sense people all around me, silent save for the satyr speaking at the front. People are just a presence around me as I focus on the satyr and the King he�s standing beside. I cannot identify the King, who is silent. The satyr is reading something, an announcement. The king is seemingly unmoved.
  No, not unmoved. Distant. He feels distant. His focus doesn�t feel like it�s all the way here.
  Words meld from one to another, difficult to remember since I wasn�t writing them down, but I remember �For too long� someone� somethings� some us? have suffered from the �undying mortal threat.� And the satyr keeps intoning. There�s something I notice. People are looking� Fae are scattered throughout the hall, making things, but a sense of uneasiness, unsurety permeates the air. I can still taste it.
  When the satyr finally finishes, a proclamation of war by an enemy and all its allies, there is silence.
  The silent King steps forward and speaks. �You know this is about�� I can�t remember. I can�t hear. I can�t see.
  I realize I�m looking through a lens. I�m not there. I let my mind drift into it too much. This is not me, I am not this.
  This is all I got from the red/yellow flower.

Looking for Mab
  Black-petal flower.
  This one is easier, I remember I�m me. It�s almost more frustrating, for where the memory fuzzes no longer feels like natural lapses, asynchronous from my mind.
  But I digress.
  I�m going hard in a haze, going around a corner on marbled floor, and catch a glimpse of moccasin encased feet pumping. I slam into the wall, I knew it was there. I used it, like I did when V�ya threw up that circle and I used it as a force to bounce off against to renew my blows against our foes. I keep running. Stopping is bad. I�ll die if I stop even as I�m dying as I run.
  Damned mist doesn�t help. Can�t see. Doesn�t matter. I know who, what, is chasing me. I can�t let them catch me. Layer by layer I�m stripped away but not if�
  Run left, keep going, down the corridor, duck, leap. Falling but then catching myself on stone. Instructions pounding in my head of what I need to do next to stay ahead.
  I keep going far enough I see servants, blissfully unaware of the horror chasing me. Pity fills me. For them. For myself. But I can�t let it slow me. Again, left, down, right, towards my destination, my goal. The gardens. Her. The gardens where I can find her.
  I know the workings but it depends on the rulers, but tonight it�s all chaos. Chaotic. Keep going, keep going. Have to find her.
  Before it�s too late.
  Before.
  She�s here. Beautiful and veiled.
  But.
  Something is wrong. I feel uneasy here. Maybe the memory, maybe me.
  Something is wrong.
  Muddled words drift into my ear and then I slip into sleep.
  Except I�m standing at a lens with a sinking feeling of dread for I fear I know this memory. Why is it here? What does it mean?
Created by Fern Eberhardt (Kelly Perfetto) at 12-12-23 11:50 PM
Last Modified by Fern Eberhardt (Kelly Perfetto) at 12-12-23 11:53 PM