And thee my soul,
Joys, ceaseless exercises, exaltations,
Thy yearning amply fed at last, prepared to meet,
Thy mates, eidolons.

Thy body permanent,
The body lurking there within thy body,
The only purport of the form thou art, the real I myself,
An image, an eidolon.

- from Eidolons in Leaves of Grass, Walt Whitman (1819-1892)

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

NIGHTMARE

A mother and daughter, one golden-haired and one dark, walked hand in hand up a sandy beach. The sun was setting in a blaze of crimson and gold, reflecting off of the deep blue of the ocean. While maintaining a youthful beauty, the mother exuded the poise and self-confidence that comes from many years of life experience. The child, full of exuberance and energy, possessed great beauty as well, but also wisdom that far exceeded her physical maturity.

Upon the beach, two figures appeared in a shimmer of white light. The first figure was dark-haired man, who possessed a wide expanse of white wings. The woman with him was blonde and carried a sword, eyes covered by a white scarf. Both appeared bathed in a glowing yellow-white light.

The mother and daughter bowed as the man and woman stood before them.

The woman spoke first. She addressed the mother.

"When your wish for a child was granted, it was foretold that she would be important to our world and to the world outside of these shores. You were instructed to train her well, for she will have important duties set upon her one day. The day foretold is not yet come. My companion and I are here to tell of another responsibility required of the young child. This charge she is to fulfill now and it will continue until the desired outcome is achieved."

The mother looked on the two with concern. "But my lady, she is but a child. She has not yet completed her training."

"Fear not," the man replied, "the child now possesses all that is necessary to successfully perform the duty before her. She need only the blessings bestowed on her already, her wisdom and kindness of heart. She shall not need to leave your care to complete her task."

The woman knelt on one knee, taking the dark-haired child's hand in her own. The child gazed at the woman, blue eyes wide with wonder.

"Little one, there is a another child in the outside world who has suffered a great loss. One day he will also be a great champion for your people and for the entire world, but he needs set upon the correct path. You will guide him there."

"Beware of my terrible sword!"

They said she had to see it through his eyes, touch it through his skin, feel it through his heart. They took her back there to see it, touch it, feel it. The same as it had been with him.

I was surrounded by the feeling of warmth and love.

At first, the feeling was almost no different from that she felt every day on the island. They made their demands on her in training, but her mother, her aunt, and her sisters together, made her feel cared for and loved every day. She had never experienced a moment of fear, sadness, or grief in her entire life.

The same as it had been with him.

Confusion.

The man wanted money. Why did he have a gun? He didn't need a gun. Dad would give him money. He gave lots of people money all of the time.

Fear.

I felt my heart pounding. The man was angry. He pointed the gun at Dad and yelled. He wanted mom's pearls. He pointed the gun at mom. My heart pounded harder. The man grabbed mom. He wanted her pearls. Dad grabbed the man. I watched the spray of tiny white orbs as they broke away and rolled into the blackness.

Terror.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I could only look. I could only listen.

They were loud. I don't know why I counted them, but I did. There were six.

One. The blast from the first echoed off into the black night sky.

Two. I could feel the wetness on my face. I looked down. The moisture fell from my face like scarlet tears. It wept red onto my coat.

So much blood. It was spraying, spurting. Dad. Bursting from under collar of his shirt. It rained red everywhere. It was on me. It was on mom.

Three. Four. I watched as the two small dark stains appeared on the front of Dad's coat. I watched them grow. They got bigger. And bigger.

Screaming. I heard screaming. Mom was screaming. She reached for Dad. She pressed closer…to him…to them.

Five. Six. Mom stopped screaming. She held her hands pressed against the front of her coat. The red spilled out from behind them. She looked at me. She looked repentant. Like she had done something wrong. She slowly slid down to the ground next to Dad. He had fallen down. I hadn't noticed. He was still.

Click. Click. I looked at the man. He looked at me. He ran away.

Confusion. Fear. Terror. Grief.

I could still feel the wetness on my face. It slid down my cheeks, mixed with my tears. The salty taste lingered on my lips.

I knelt next to her. I held her hand. It was cold.

"No. Please, no."

She still looked at me. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"I love you."

"It will be okay."

It wasn't. It couldn't be. It won't be.

Confusion. Fear. Terror. Grief. Anger. Rage.

He sat up in his bed, screaming, shaking, crying. His ice-blue eyes flew wide open with fear and anguish.

She sat up in her bed, screaming, shaking, crying. Her cerulean-blue eyes flew wide open with fear and anguish. The same as it had been with him.