Saturday, October 14, 2017

Paula's Prompt: Tayel's Dream

On August 23, 2017, P. T. Wyant posted a prompt for her Wednesday Words at ptwyant.com. This involved a flooded floor, a lost dog, and a fortune teller.

This Tale of the Navel was the result.

The liquid continued to spread across the floor. 

Tayel couldn’t tell what color it was. The greedy ground leached all the hue out of the stones, leaving them pale gray. 

“The source of all life,” Damian said, not that Tayel could hear him very well. 

Not over the sound of the dog barking. 

Lost, hungry, it insisted on snapping at the crayfish in the pool of water. Yes, it was a pool, now. The liquid was getting deeper. 

It crept towards Tayel’s feet. 

“I’m afraid it’s impossible to avoid.” Damian leaned back on the stool he stood upon, only now it resembled a rock. “Hmm, this place looks familiar.”

“It should,” Tayel growled, refusing to turn towards the white tower which held Damian’s attention.

The stone monster would only gleam with pitiless purity of bone, if someone spent attention on it. 

Not that its twin, the black tower was any better. Darkened with devoured color, it was the ebon of a starless sky, lacking light or hope. 

“You’re so poetic in your prejudice for one so young.” Damian spoke as if Tayel had voiced his thoughts. “Black and white don’t have to be such absolute opposites.”

“Yes, they do.” Tayel’s toes were completely submerged in water. “Kind of like you and Christopher in your true forms.”

He jerked his head in the direction of the two towers, refusing to look directly at either of them. Or Damian for that matter. 

“Don’t stand there, pretending to be a person.” Tayel voiced his thoughts, since Damian would hear them anyway. “Your truth leaks through your mask.”

“Does it really?” Damian rested one foot on a slightly higher ridge than the other. “Tell me my truth, little mystery, little fortune teller.”

“It’s right in front of you.” Doubt flickered within Tayel, while he backed away from the liquid. 

There was no avoiding it. Not unless he climbed onto something. 

“Here.” Damian leaned down and offered a hand. 

It would be easy for the young man to pull him up on the rock beside him. 

“No.” Tayel recoiled, despite the water lapping at his ankles. “That belongs to another.”

“He’d never forgive me if I didn’t offer it to you.” Damian kept his hand steady, unwavering. 

“No.” Tayel shivered at the water, seeping through the leather of his boots. “You’ll only feed me to your creation.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Damian narrowed his eyes. The red in his irises turned bloody. “You’re made up of stolen energy.”

“It’s still ours!” Tayel woke himself up with his own cry. 

He sat up in bed and stared around at the familiar darkness of the attic. 

“Tayel?” Danyel stirred at his side, opening one eye. “What’s wrong?”

“Dreams continue to trouble my sleep.” Tayel lay down, refusing to look at his twin. “Pay them no mind.”

Something trickled out from beneath his eyelid. 


Perhaps there was a reason tears had no color. 

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