A Peculiar String of Bizarre Dreams

Chapter 26: After the Obliteration

The sky is an expanse of light gray and white. It's the kind of white which is so pristine, that it looks gray. The kind of white that human eyes can't stare at for too long. The ground is covered in a thin layer of gritty sand. White mountains stand firm in the distance. It's not cold and the mountains are not snow-capped, but they are entirely white, like the sand on which I stand.

A continuous trail of black smoke churns into the sky, miles away from me. Then I see it — a tree caught on fire. Its branches glow red, clad in angry flames.

"Careful what you wish for, Jemma."

I hear a familiar rasp. Sachelle. I remove him from my pocket. The bag looks the same, but feels slightly heavy, now that it holds three precious gems for people back home in Avian Oaks.

"Has a voyageur de temps ever died on their travels?" I ask.

"Do I look like a voyageur de temps? Ask your Mamma, princess."

I sigh and restore him into my pocket.

I take a step forward into the strange white land and immediately notice water puddles on the ground. How did I not see them before? There aren't many but every ten steps or so, I see a water puddle.

I take another step and my sneakers have barely touched a puddle when suddenly, it swallows me clean like a snake.

After a few seconds, I find my feet on solid ground again. It's dark and dank inside the water-disguised snake. I look down and find myself standing on a floor made of what seems to be black steel.

Then I hear them — low growls, low hungry growls.

Thunk. Thunk. They land around me.

I desperately try to discern their outlines. What are these creatures?

Slowly, they circle and close in on me. Soon, they are close enough for me to see what they are: black as the night. Jaguars. Their white teeth glisten with saliva, which foams at the corner of their mouths. They blend in with the darkness, except their teeth. Their piercing canines are all I can see.

Sachelle must want me dead. A voyageur de temps could definitely die during their travels, and a dead body can't will itself to go back in time. I could leave right now, but the sapphire on my neck burns and I don't want to leave...not yet.

I can smell their sour breath now, close to my face.

First, I kneel down to my knees. Then, I fold myself into a fetal position. I look quite visibly, pathetic. I don't have a weapon. My defense skills range from plucking a flower to cutting an apple.

I glance up towards the opening through which I fell. My body is shriveling from the threat of a thousand jaguars and their white teeth, snapping so close to my face.

That's when I see it — a face. An angelic face. Which means, I'm in the right realm. I was starting to think my signals got crossed, and another voyageur de temps that wanted to go to jaguar realm ended up going to a seraphic realm, while I got sent to this hellhole.

But I must've imagined the face, because I'm going to die here. I can't breathe and my eyes are drooping close.

Then, I hear birds, and metal cracking against bones. The sour breath of a thousand jaguars leaves me. I feel the rush of air surround me and I force my eyes open.

The jaguars have scattered back like shrapnel. They cower in fear and some even whimper, while she stands over them commanding reverence.

She has long shiny black hair tied high on her head. And when she turns towards me, I see her face, overshadowed by piercing blue eyes. Her pale skin is as pristine as the white sky I saw before — the kind of white that human eyes cannot look at for too long. She is dressed in black warrior-like clothes and is at least a feet taller than me. Then, she unfurls her wings.

Black and unfathomable. They stretch on both sides, exalted yet magnanimous. The feathers on them seem sharper and sturdier than any sword that has ever existed.

She extends her wings as weapons and makes a rash circle around her, cutting any jaguar that is still determined to make a meal of us. But the jaguars and their hunger dies out quickly.

They whimper shrilly, and some howl in pain. I see it happen too fast, and her pace numbs all my visceral reflexes.

After the obliteration, the snake disgorges me out into the white land. The woman stands beside me, her black wings serving as armoured protection around us.

She gives me space, and moves away to face me.

"You went down a wormhole. That was one purgatory, among several others. Careful, next time," she warns me in her deep syrupy voice.

"How will I know next time?" I ask, dumbly and still slightly disoriented.

She simply walks a few steps and points at a puddle. I stare at her, questioningly.

"I can see so many of those around this place. Are they all wormholes?" I attempt to clarify.

"Only the ones that glow slightly orange around the blue edges, be careful around those."

I nod and hope that I make it out of here, in one piece.

I continue to stare at the dark winged angel, as she stares back at me. We gauge each other. I know she is not a threat to me. But she seems uncertain: Am I a threat to her?