Kyra enjoyed the way Drake?s eyes slowly traveled over her body, taking in her curves, and each aspect of her mostly bare form. This is the reaction that she was looking for. She blushed as he moved closer, speaking softly to her and lightly touching her face. She blushed, but did not let her eyes move from his as she leaned forward to kiss him upon the lips. Once again letting the energy flow into him, she heard music in the back of her mind, but pushed it aside, ?not now? she thought as she kissed him deeply, pulling his body closer to her.
She felt his slight hesitation, but kept going, she was sure that this was what she wanted, and he made no move to stop her. She let her hands slide down his arms, feeling the power in them, to his hands which she pulled around herself, placing them on the small of her back, where their warmth sent shivers through her spine.
She slipped her hands up under his shirt, pulling it over his head, she snuggled her face against his muscled chest, kissing his skin. His heartbeat was loud, strong, she could hear it beating increasingly faster in response to her touch, the crescendo of lust and love was not lost to her ears. The beat of his chest almost brought her to a trance, she could listen to it endlessly. It was like the music that she had heard when she was almost lost?. Shaking her head, she tried to rid herself of the thought, but the beat followed her, pressing on the back of her mind.
She slowly lowered herself to the ground, to lie on the soft moss which covered everything, pulling him down to join her then kissing him again, her hands moving to feel every inch of his skin, which felt like fire as her fingers traced over it.
Again the music pushed against her consciousness, again she pushed it away, she wanted to be here, now. If it pushed much harder, she wouldn?t be able to withstand it, she would be swept away. It matched and surpassed her strength, ebbing and flowing against her resistance, and before she could close her mind she was in its grasp.
She could barely feel Drake through the all encompassing sound of the music; she knew that he was there, somewhere, just beyond her reach. Her mind floated through the music, following its course, through time, through everything that had ever existed, and everything that would ever come to be. She felt each birth, each death, all joy and all sadness, ecstasy and pain.
She was floating along its currents now, being drawn down the cords as the music flowed, enveloping and invading her all at once. Her mind tried to hold on to the thread of itself, but there was nothing to hold, her mind had become it, once again she was of the music, drawn within. So consumed was she, by the flow, that she did not even feel her consciousness as it merged becoming something else. Her mind felt as though it would shatter if she continued to try to hold on, she knew that she had to let go or it would destroy her. She didn?t want to, she wanted to go back, but there was no back anymore. Succumb to the currents of the flow, she let go, left with nothing she could do, the fight was lost, she became the vassal of the music. There were no thoughts, no emotions, nothing but the never-ending music of life. A vague feeling that there was somewhere else she was supposed to be, a fading memory - a person that was out of her reach. This was all of Kyra that was left.
Instead she was the music . She was the flowing tempo of time. Time?. It wasn?t moving the way she knew before in her life as Kyra? Kyra, a flash of a thought?. Who?s Kyra? Here, time barely moved, yet screamed by faster than she could comprehend. Or maybe this place wasn?t moving at all, and she was the movement? she couldn?t tell? she no longer cared. All the while though, while experiencing this world, this life, there was something in the back of her mind, calling to her, almost holding on to her? what it was though, she couldn?t quite grasp.
What she could grasp, she found with delight, the music in all of its glorious majesty. Not music as we see it, but the ever changing tempo of time, the backbeat of the human heart. And the chorus? the chorus amazed her, filled her with joy. Life, life was the chorus in this concerto that she had become. A newborn baby breathing its first breath, a man surrounded by his loved ones drawing his last. Not just people though, across untold worlds she could hear the plants reaching for rays of the sun, birds singing their serenade as the light broke a horizon. The shared pulse of the multiverse became her tempo, the rush of a billion lovers her muse, the sway of trillions of branches the crescendo to a masterpiece that will never end.
She could see everything so clearly now - the life, death, hopes, dreams of life. Every life, no matter how small was a part of the song she had become. Kyra was a glimmer, long forgotten seemingly eons ago, the name, all names, meant nothing to her now.
She was now the root, the end, the spectator of this beautiful, orderly chaos.
She was The Singer Of Dreams.
Yet there was still the question that held on to her. Not exactly a question, more of a nagging in the back of her mind, it kept calling to her. A voice that she couldn?t place, a voice that felt like home. This too familiar voice yelled to her in the faintest of whispers over and over again, ?You are Kyra, Come home my love, Come back to me? However, this meant nothing to her, it was meaningless. She has always been, and forever will be The Singer of Dreams, there was no Kyra, the music was her home, she was home.
She had work to do now, an endless melody to sing and orchestrate... tried to shake the voice off, but it clung to her too tightly to shake free. So she followed it, for it too had a root, somewhere between bright loving plants flourishing all in tidy rows, and a bubbling brook, ripe with tiny life. Under an old tree whose swaying branches played with the wind, was a man and a woman. The woman was drawing her last breaths, slipping away, and the man was holding her tightly to his chest. Yes, this is where she followed that voice, this was the distraction that has plagued her. She reached out to the voice of the man, intent on snipping it free, silencing it forever so that she could go back to her work. When she saw his face.
She knew that face, she knew those eyes that cried openly as he held his dying lover. The Singer of Dreams swept in closer, drawn to the man who?s voice held on to her. The woman in his arms seemed vaguely familiar, as if she?d seen her before. Then the man spoke, sending shockwaves through the Singer, gripping her tightly.
?Kyra come back? He pleaded ?Come back to me my love?. Those were the first words that she had heard, aside from within the chorus, in what seemed like a millennia. They made her feel safe, like she could hold still. And suddenly, not knowing why or how, she reached into that dying girl and remembered ...
?Drake??
