Crossing Over

He spotted a lone cherry blossom on one of them and stared at it for a moment. A good omen, he thought, fear suddenly strong. A fleeting one. He shook himself mentally. What is wrong with me? He thought, suddenly on edge. His skin tingled and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He glanced at his mother, noting that she had her hand near the dagger at her waist. She senses something also, he thought, scanning the area around them. What?
"Nathan" His mother said, putting out an arm to stop him in his tracks.
"What?" He whispered, throat dry.
"There," She said, her voice just as low. Nathan stared. Then he found that he was moving forward, walking toward the body of a young woman lying still on the ground. His heart pounded as he stared at her. Where are her clothes? He thought, his mind in a state of mild shock. He moved closer, noticing a small tattoo that bore a resemblance to a single red flame on her chest just above her breasts. Suddenly he wanted to know that there was some warmth left in her, that she was alive, that this she would be all right.Then he felt his mother touch his shoulder and the spell was broken. His face heated when he realized he had been staring at the body of a naked girl about his age, with his mother standing behind him the entire time. Nathan stepped back and closed his eyes, embarrassed and tried not to think about the girl's body, the way her hair had framed her face, and the color of her clearly soft skin. He closed his eyes and the image of the
red flame tattooed on the girl's chest appeared in his mind. It was strange, the way it was so clear in his mind even though he had only really glimpsed it briefly. It seemed to fill his thoughts as he tried to draw out its meaning. Suddenly he felt a rush of heat throughout his body, and it seemed as if he was being picked up, and he felt the rush of wind on his face and the sudden influx of heat faded. Breathless he opened his eyes.
The night and the lamp and the girl and the forest were gone. His mother was gone. He was standing in the center of a room, but what building the room was in was impossible to tell. For a moment he felt utterly alone in this place but then he heard a low hiss and he thought he heard the sounds of fighting coming from somewhere outside the room. He heard something else as well, a low voice, a female voice, speaking in a language that he did not know. A mist or a smoke began to rise out of the floor beneath him and though he though he knew that usually he would be, fear did not touch him. He did not dare to move as the mistsmoke gathered around him. As it did lines in the floor seemed to glow, forming a strange circular pattern around him, with him in the center. The woman's voice grew louder and the words slowed in his mind.
*What?* He asked without speaking, trying to understand, reaching for an understanding that was so close. As he strained to make sense of the words a woman appeared in front of him, the mistsmoke curling around her. Long dark hair framed her face and a red flame burned hot in the center of her chest. Amber eyes met his. It was then he knew that she was the one speaking to him, and suddenly the words were clear in his mind. She raised a hand and pointed at him. Nathan's hair felt like it was pulling the skin off of his bones.
*A dark time is coming, Nathan of the Sage. Protect me until all is ready. We are coming, Nathan. They are coming. Protect me until all is ready.*
Then the vision was gone and Nathan was back among the trees and the night and the cold. His mind spun and his muscles shook. He stared at the girl lying on the ground in front of him, trying to make sense of what he had just seen and heard. He started to say something to his mother, but then saw that she was in the exact same position she had been in when he had closed his eyes. Then she seemed to come to herself, and spoke.
"She's cold."
His mother's voice cut through the confusion in his mind, bringing him completely back to her and the girl. He felt in control of his senses again.
"What?" He asked.
"Her skin. It's like ice."
He realized then that his mother had not felt anything, had not seen anything. He knelt down next to the girl, touching her cheek softly. He leaned over her, putting one ear to the girl's chest. The heartbeat he heard seemed like the last burning embers of a fire. Faint, and distant. But there.
"We have to get her out of here. A storm is coming," he said.