Dear Readers,   If you have not read the first five parts of the Progressive Story, please jaunt over to my account and read them, it is quite good, really, and I would again like to thank everyone who is participating in it for their participation. ~Sarah   Section Six: Sarah B::   Hot, it was so hot. Fey’ara couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. “Is this it?” she thought. “No, it can’t be. I still had so much to do. Kroinasu… what about him? It’s so hot… Is this hell?” Suddenly something cool and wet touched her forehead. Instantly, life rushed back into her body, and she gasped in shock. There was a skittering sound, and the coolness went away. But as she sat there, breathing swiftly, there was another noise, and the coolness returned. This time, Fey’ara stayed quiet. “Someone must be bathing my forehead,” she thought.
  After a moment, she slowly opened her eyes. A blast of sunlight made her flinch in pain. “Hold still,” said a voice beside her. Fey’ara went rigid. “Do not look at the sun.”
  Fey’ara painfully turned her head in the direction of the voice. She carefully opened her eyes again. Beside her crouched a small child, dirty, dressed in ragged clothes. She could hardly tell whether it was a boy or girl. The child w as staring straight at her with a mixture of curiosity and fear. It held a wet cloth, and beside it was a bowl of water. “Thank you for bathing my head,” she said gently, hoping to win the child’s trust. The child gave a quick, crooked smile that showed her she was succeeding.
  “It is always the same when someone comes here,” the child said. It spoke in a strange, unidentifiable accent. “The only way to wake them up is to wash their face with water.” Fey’ara looked around. She was lying on a barren stretch of dry ground. Above her, the sun beat down mercilessly. “Where am I?” she asked.
  “This place has no name,” said the child, abruptly picking up the bowl of water and standing up. “Oh, wait, don’t go,” said Fey’ara, scrambling to her hands and knees. But the sudden movement made her head swim. The child reached down a hand.
  “Come,” it said, smiling, “if you can walk, we will go to the settlement. There, perhaps, you will find the answers you need.” Fey’ara took the offered hand and staggered to her feet. Together they headed off – though what they were aiming for, Fey’ara couldn’t say. There was nothing in sight but more and more emptiness. Soon, however, she saw that she was mistaken. The shifting image of endless sand lifted in front of them in a shimmering mirage, and she saw that they were approaching a set of houses. Some were built low to the ground, others had been built around the trunks and in the limbs of a set of five thick, twisted trees. It was not a very cheerful place. Even the few leaves on the trees seemed brown.
  People began coming out from the huts and gathering around Fey’ara and the child. They looked at Fey’ara solemnly with their wide eyes, but no one said anything. And then she realized: they were all children. Before she could think much about this, however, she noticed that they were approaching a pool. It was the one spot of color in this dreary world. Where even the sky seemed dusty and brown, this pool was a clear blue. As they came up to it’s edge, the child crouched down and emptied the bowl into the pool. Then it stood up and faced Fey’ara. She sensed that they were waiting for her to speak.
  “Where am I?” she asked again. “What happened to me?” “You are dead,” said the child.
  Fey’ara drew in her breath. It couldn’t be true. “Dead?” she whispered. “Yes. At least, that is what we believe. All of us have left our lives in the other world, and we must now live here. No one has ever gotten back,” the child added softly, half to itself.
  “But… why are there only children here?” The child looked her square in the face. “We are the Unwanted,” it said fiercely. “We are those who have been rejected by the other world, before they even knew us. We have had no trial, no judge – except for the flawed men and women who sent us h ere to suit themselves. We died before we even had a chance to live.” Then it’s shoulders sagged. “We do not know why you, an adult, have come here. Perhaps… no, we do not know.” It seemed about to add more, when the surface of the pond was suddenly rippled, even though there was no breeze.
  “What’s happening?” Fey’ara asked. The child was looking towards the water. “A child is in danger,” it said shortly.
  Fey’ara looked back. Suddenly a column of water shot out of the pond, and a large sphere of water gathered at one end. The water inside the sphere twisted and churched, and suddenly Fey’ara gasped. Inside the sphere, she could see people. An entire scene unfolded before her eyes. A room, richly furnished. Dark – it must be night. A woman stood in the room, screaming and clutching a baby to her breast. The woman was holding up an arm to defend herself. A man was facing her, threatening her with a long, shining dagger. The scene clutched at Fey’ara, and she found she was yelling. “Can no one help her?” she cr ied.
  The child shook it’s head. “No,” it said. “There is nothing that can be done.” The phrase echoed in Fey’ara’s head. “…nothing can be done… nothing can be done…” The words faded, and in her mind she saw a forest glade. The trees were swaying in the night breeze. “…nothing can be done… nothing can be done…” There came a gray wolf, loping across the moonlit clearing. “…nothing can be done… nothing…”
  “Gal’drien!” Fey’ara screamed. The wolf turned and looked at her. He crouched, then sprang at her. Fey’ara screamed again. A gray mass was in front of her eyes, and she could see nothing. Then suddenly it was moving away, moving away… Fey’ara saw the dark shape hurtle towards the sphere of water. Then it disappeared into it. For one brief instant, she saw that the wolf was in the scene, and had knocked the man with the dagger over. Then the sphere shifted, quivered… For one instant more it hung in the air, then it collapsed into the lake, sending a wave rippling out from the center. And there was silence.

Fey’ara found she was breathing heavily. She turned, and found that the entire crowd of children was staring at her. Suddenly, they all dropped to their knees. Fey’ara could not understand why.
 

“Mi’lady…” came a choked voice beside her. She looked and saw that the child with the bowl had not knelt. It did now. “You have powers like none we have ever seen. Please… you must be our Queen.” “Queen?” said Fey’ara in astonishment. “There must be some mistake…”
  “No mistake, lady,” the child said. “Please, what is your name, so we shall know whom we serve?” The question caught Fey’ara by surprise. “No, really, I can’t be – name? My name is Fey’ara, but…”
  “Fey’ara?!” the child jumped up. “Your name is Fey’ara?” “Well, yes, but why is that important? Do you know me?”
  The child was gazing at her in open-mouthed astonishment and joy. “Oh, lady!” it gasped out. “I am your sister, Krit’su! I thought I would never see you again!” The brown and dusty world swam before Fey’ara’s eyes. But just before she fainted, she looked into the eyes of the child and realized that they were green…
  …just like hers. The dry ground came up to meet Fey’ara, and the world faded out.