A metallic taste and a warmth around her roused her from her mental wandering. She blinked at the presence of two people surrounding her. The man’s arm wrapped her in a warm embrace that brought her close to the child who was sleeping in relaxed intoxication near her. Her nose was filled with the smell of wet human. When had they come near her? Or had she wandered close to them without knowing. She looked up to the closed eyes and the emotionless face of the man so close to her own. A little blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, as the man endured the magical flux of the center of the tornado as he used of all of the magic around and kept the weak bubble of protective weave from collapsing around them. Just beyond him the unwinding weave was so close, that Chira could feel the magic being sucked out of the protective bubble. When the bubble broke…….

Her mind must have wandered for quite a while. The intoxication must have affected her. That is why she had not felt the passing of time or when the man and the child got close to her. Chira was amazed at the strength of will of the man. She was so close to his chest that he would feel his weakening heartbeat. He was constantly using up magic… more than he could absorbed from the surrounding to sustain the bubble that was collapsing. She felt his determination to hold on to the bubble till the last drop of his life. She hoped the center of the storm moved on before that.

Her mind was telling her that the man was so foolish to take her into his protective bubble, even though it would put a strain on him and kill them quicker if the center did not move away. But a little warmth trickle into her heart. She raised her palm and let her wet fingers touch the corner of the man’s mouth were a little blood trickled, mesmerized. A sharp pain pierced her skin from where her cut finger brushed on his stubble chin.

She looked at her finger. The cut that she had deliberately made to feed the pendent back at the castle monastery had reopened and began bleeding. Instinctively she put it into her mouth to sooth it. The pain quickly vanished as her brain focused on the air simmered in light behind him. The glowing chaos of the unwinding weave being sucked away behind the man added a divine feeling to his aged, weather-beaten face. Her mind wandered again. The unfolding weave above her seemed fascinating. The protective weave cracked, and Chira could feel the force of the sucking void. Existentialism that was trying to get her attention desperately, was pushed aside by an old memory.

There are a lot of people who can convince others and themselves into believing that they have the greatest memory and that they can perfectly remember their childhood.

While there are some freakishly awesome people like that, they are as rare as white crows. Most who claim excellent memories, have their memories reconstructed by vividly retold anecdotes, or similar experiences, later in life, an excellent imagination and a knowledge of how they think. Why perfect memory of childhood is impossible, is because at a very small age the connections between emotions and sensations that help recall memories are just developing. Other than emotionally or sensationally unique experiences most memories don’t remain.

It was the same for Chira. She did not remember much before her sixth year. The memories she had were either re constructed or had long laid dormant in her brain, without a stimulant to bring it to the surface.

But now with the metallic taste of blood in her mouth and the strange unwinding weave, the song the evaded her conscious mind a few minutes before came back. It filled her mind with feelings and sensations long forgotten, full of maternal warmth and smell of baking. It unwitting spilled out of her vocal chords, and flowed into the silent world. Her eyes closed and her body became limp as the storms center tried to suck all magic out of her body and mind. The protective bubble the man wove had broken and she was fast losing consciousness. But with stubborn will, she focused on the song as if only it was her salvation. This song became her only grip to consciousness, in a world which was painful as the magic in her stripped away. It was a song without words, rising from her memory but propped up and strengthened by sheer will power. It started broken and soft, but picked up strength, until it filled the little space and reverberated with echoes. It was determined to replace the pain she was feeling. It muted the storm as the voice gathered some old emotions.

In her mind, the song rang with the emotions of a rich old voice, aged with experience and heady with a strange power. It had been sung when she had been delirious and fighting consciousness like she was doing now. It bespoke of warmth and protection unlike anything she had experienced at that time. It spilled out of her with echoes of similar emotions and something more. She remembered the man holding her inside his protective bubble struggling to maintain consciousness and bleeding from his mouth. He did not have to do it. She was a complete stranger. She drew in that emotion of sacrifice into her song and pulled it into herself. The pain dulled. She felt weightless and light filled her closed eyes and seemed to spill out. She felt the man’s emotions as if it were her own and she felt she could take his place. It felt right. After all she was about to die. Even if she survived this storm she would not survive later. But if she could take this man’s place, perhaps he would survive!

Chira could not help but find her thoughts humorous. In reality, she had no magic or amazing physical capabilities. Her normal magic level was that of a child and could not sustain the simplest of weaves for more than a few seconds. Yet in her mind she could be free to imagine that she had this strength to takes some one’s place in sacrifice. She could imagine being a hero and saving the day. Her mind must really be breaking. When had she, a cynical realist turned into an airbag? It must be the song, and the memory of that old lady. It made her feel light and free and childlike, as if her possibilities had suddenly expanded to the size of an explosion. Yet in spite of all the random thought she continued to sing. Tears mingled with the storm as she became obvious to the world.

As she sang, soft pure light filled her making her skin glow. the man who had his eyes closed till then, opened his animal eyes wide in shock. The cracking bubble around him collapsed, and magic was being brutally ripped from his body. Then the glow that surrounding her, seemed to surround him too in its protective glow. His shocked eyes could not get wider. Even in this strangeness he retained a bit of quickness of thought. His hands shook with lack of strength as he grasped her hand, the one with the bleeding finger. He grits his teeth with effort as he inched the finger toward the child, and pressed the bloodied finger on an open cut on the child’s cheek. As their blood mixed, light flowed from Chira into the child. The effort seemed to exhaust him, and still holding the child and Chira he lost consciousness, his body going limp. That hand holding on to Chira’s fingers, lost strength, and her arm fell to the side. The little cut continued to bleed and dropped bright red to the patterned floor.

The glow flowed from her and enveloped the man and then the child. Then it began to flow and cover the ground under their feet. It condensed to a simple spherical spiral that surrounded them. It was not like the magic around them, and did not react to the sucking center of the storm. Within the spiral the little magic that remained, could not be sucked away.

Chira was lost in her own thoughts and mindscape, that she was unaware of what was happening around her. Her song echoed haunting and pure was colored with sadness. The hollow well in the hill seemed to be filling up. It could have move anyone listening with heartfelt sighs, longings and unfulfilled wishes. Unfortunately, the man and the child were unconscious. Chira felt as if she was letting a part of herself be with the man and the child. It flowed out of her and filled the space around them. AS it did she felt her end nearing. This time for real she would begin her journey to the primordial womb.

This time, she was not unwilling.