6. Ceara

The cell's dim lighting cast a cold ambiance, but nothing could match the chill of Ellie's absence.

Her sudden departure left an emptiness within me that I hadn't anticipated.

Only moments ago, our fingers had brushed, our worlds had teetered on the edge of intertwining, and now, she was gone.

I was disoriented, caught in a whirlwind of emotions.

I was trapped. Alone.

Why does her absence bother me so much? I mused, my fingers twitching with the urge to feel her delicate skin once more.

The sensations she evoked in me were unfamiliar yet intoxicating, much like the melodies from ancient lullabies — forgotten yet embedded deep within.

The truth was, Ellie wasn't just another Prize; she was my Distant Vision mate.

A concept I never gave much credence to until now.

In our culture, finding one's Distant Vision mate is a sacred rite, revered and celebrated.

It is believed that the universe binds two souls together, crafting a shared destiny.

It's an unparalleled bond, one that comes once in a lifetime.

And now, with Ellie's abrupt departure, an overwhelming fear of losing our shared future began to seep in.

I reclined against the cold, unyielding wall of the cell, letting the chill penetrate my skin.

Memories of my childhood teachings regarding the Distant Vision played in my mind.

It was said that the moment you meet your mate, the universe hums in harmony, a melody only the two of you can hear.

This connection was cosmic, spiritual, and bound by destiny, a union of souls that even the gods celebrated.

And more than that, it was foretold to bestow incredible powers upon those who possess it…

Had I ruined it by keeping her at arm's length?I pondered.

The soft touch of her hand, the gentle cadence of her voice, her warm presence — all were etched in my memory, even though our time together was fleeting.

Should I have done more?

Said more?

Been more open?

My inner turmoil swelled, and the walls of the cell seemed to close in on me.

I yearned to rectify my inaction, to seize our shared destiny.

An aching longing filled me, a visceral pull that made every fiber of my being yearn for her.

It was as if I could still hear the soft shuffle of her feet, feel the heat of her body close to mine, and smell the delicate floral scent she wore.

But above all, it was hope she had given me — a tantalizing, sweet flavor of a future where we might be free, together.

A strange thought occurred to me; it was odd how someone from a world so different from mine, someone I barely knew, had come to mean so much.

But then again, that's the magic of the Distant Vision.

It defied logic, blurred boundaries, and created connections where none seemed possible.

As the hours ebbed away, my anxiety grew.

Every whisper in the hallway, every footstep made my heart race, hoping it would be her return.

But time played its cruel trick, stretching each second into an eternity of waiting.

I had to see her.

To apologize, to express the depth of my feelings, and to weave the threads of our shared destiny together.

I knew the stakes, the barriers that lay between us, but one thing was clear: our paths were meant to intertwine.

And come what may, I was determined to hold onto the future the universe had shown me — a future with Ellie.

* * *

The abrasive noiseof the cell door's metallic gears grated against my heightened senses.

But this time, it heralded not another torment but the return of my respite.

Ellie.

She stepped in, her face pale but eyes sparkling with resilience.

The very sight of her washed over me like a warm wave, soothing the raw edges of my anxiety.

"Are you all right?" I rushed to her side, needing to assure myself of her well-being. "Did they hurt you? If they did, I swear I'll—"

"They didn't hurt me," Ellie said, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear, looking up at me with those piercing blue eyes. "One of the Prizes was… injured during the night. They needed my medical expertise. But I'm okay, Ceara. Just a little shaken."

The news that someone had been hurt sent a chill down my spine — after all, it could have just as easily have been Ellie if she were in their position — but I clamped down on the rising anger.

Now wasn't the time for rage.

Instead, I focused on the relief that she was safe, that the universe had not yanked her away from me.

Drawing her close, I whispered:

"I'm… glad you're okay."

Glad was an understatement.

If she never returned to me, I wasn't sure how I was meant to go on.

A beautiful bird released from its cage only made the room it once belonged to all the dimmer.

The truth of my words hung heavily between us.

We shared a moment of silent understanding, both of us astounded by the depth of connection that had blossomed so quickly.

I gently ran my fingers over her arm, feeling the silky texture of her skin, noting the slight tremor under my touch.

Her scent, a mix of earthly flowers, tickled my senses.

Warmth radiated from her.

The door slid open again, breaking our intimate moment.

A guard entered and I immediately stepped defensively between him and Ellie.

I needn't have worried.

He was pushing a cart laden with what looked —and smelled — like real food.

My stomach grumbled in response, reminding me of the meager rations I'd grown accustomed to.

This wasn't the bland nutrient paste they usually doled out.

Instead, the cart carried plates of roasted meats, vibrant vegetables, and even some fresh fruits.

The savory aroma made my mouth water and filled the room with a heady blend of spices and herbs.

"Thanks to me," Ellie said with a hint of pride, "you'll be eating a little better from now on. You can't heal on that paste they give you. If I'm going to get you back to full health, you need proper nourishment."

I chuckled, the sound filled with genuine amusement. "Is this your doing, then? An improvement in prison cuisine?"

The little human shrugged.

She was a true wonder.

Her words made me marvel at the strength of this remarkable human.

Here she was, a prisoner like me, yet she had managed to improve our living conditions with just her will and determination.

The tender flesh of a fruit burst in my mouth, its juicy sweetness mingling with the savory flavors of the meat, creating a symphony of taste I hadn't experienced in what felt like eons.

It was a delightful assault on my taste buds, and I couldn't help but let out a satisfied sigh.

The fresh aroma of the vegetables, the sound of Ellie's gentle laughter as she watched me enjoy the meal, the feel of the soft napkin on my fingertips, and the explosion of flavors in my mouth — everything was heightened.

I felt alive, truly alive, for the first time in ages.

We dined together, an odd semblance of a date in this otherwise grim setting.

As I watched Ellie eat with a grace that belied our surroundings, I felt a warmth spreading through me.

The weight of our situation still hung over us, but for the moment, we had food, each other's company, and a glimmer of hope.

And hope, even a morsel, was a powerful thing.

After we finished, Ellie leaned close, her breath a whisper against my ear. "Maybe one day we'll eat like this, not in a cell, but under the open sky of a free world."

Her words resonated deep within, instilling a promise of a future that I desperately wanted to believe in.

A future where we were not prisoners, but free beings, united by a bond that spanned galaxies.

The future promised by my Distant Vision.

* * *

The plattersbefore us were a mix of both human and Blinker food, offering a rare glimpse of our shared future.

I picked up a piece of trilax, a traditional Blinker fruit.

Its soft, spiky exterior felt familiar under my fingertips.

"Here, try this."

I offered it to Ellie, eager to share a piece of my world with her.

She hesitated for a moment, eying the strange-looking fruit, then took a small bite.

I watched closely, hoping she would appreciate its unique flavor.

The corners of her lips turned upwards, her eyes gleaming with delight. "It's like a mix of mango and… something I've never tasted before. It's delicious!"

Relief and pride surged within me.

Sharing the flavors of my home and seeing her relish them felt deeply intimate.

As we continued to eat, I noticed Ellie's fingers brushing against a piece of quenza, a Blinker delicacy that I hadn't experienced in so long.

It was a soft, creamy dessert that transported you straight into a comforting embrace.

"You must try this," I urged, pushing the plate closer to her.

The gentle chime of our laughter and the rhythmic clinking of cutlery formed a background melody.

Each bite brought memories — of home, of family, and of celebrations.

The creamy texture of the quenza on my tongue, its sweet aroma, and the gentle sound it made as it squelched slightly when pressed, all took me back to happier days.

Ellie seemed to notice the change in my demeanor, her hand finding mine across the table. "What's on your mind?" she asked gently.

I swallowed, the flavors of the food mingling with the emotions churning within. "This… all of this," I gestured at the spread, "reminds me of home. Of better days. And…" I hesitated, unsure if I should share the next part, but something in her gaze encouraged me. "It reminds me of a particular Distant Vision of mine."

Her eyes widened with curiosity. "Distant Vision? What's that?"

Where do I even begin? I wondered.

She didn't know about my species' unique ability, never mind the intricate details concealed within it.

Taking a deep breath, I began. "It's… a Vision. Of us on a beach. Not here on Ikmal, but somewhere else — somewhere serene and beautiful. The sand is warm beneath our feet, the waves singing their timeless lullaby. We had a picnic laid out, much like this, and we laughed, ate, and danced under the stars."

The words flowed freely, painting a picture of a time and place neither of us had experienced yet but felt deeply connected to. "I remember the salty tang of the sea breeze," I continued," the feel of the sand shifting underfoot, the distant cries of the birds, the mesmerizing dance of the flames from the bonfire we had, and most of all, the taste of the food we shared."

Ellie squeezed my hand, her voice soft. "On my world, we call that a dream. But who's to say dreams can't come true? Maybe one day, we'll have that picnic on a beach, just like in your Vision."

A dream? I thought.

We had the same concept on my homeworld… but it wasn't a dream.

A dream was an unconscious fantasy, no more real or a premonition of the future than fantasy creatures.

Still, the idea, so full of hope and promise, made my heart race.

Here, in this cold cell, with the flavors of home in our mouths and the dream of a better future in our minds, anything felt possible.

Drawing her closer, I whispered,. "I'd like that, Ellie. More than anything."

For a long while, we simply sat there, holding onto each other, lost in the promise of a shared future.

We were two souls, intertwined by fate, hoping for a tomorrow where our dreams could become our reality.

Home, and the scent of possibilities lingered in the air, reminding us both that even in the darkest moments, hope could shine the brightest.

* * *

As the familiar,dissonant groan of the cell doors began, I braced myself.

Being ripped away from Ellie, especially after the serene moment we just shared, seemed like the cruelest of punishments.

The silhouette of the guards materialized against the dim backdrop of the prison's corridor.

But before I could make my resigned move for them to take me, Ellie, with an assertiveness I'd never witnessed before, placed herself between me and the looming guards.

"Stop," she said, her voice commanding and resonant. "He needs to heal. If you want him to be of any use in your experiments, let him be. Give him time!"

The audacity of her words and the unwavering determination in her eyes took them aback.

It wasn't just the guards who were shocked; even I couldn't comprehend the transformation in Ellie, the once subdued human Prize.

There was an uncomfortable silence, the kind where the weight of the air is felt by all.

The guards exchanged glances, the metallic sheen of their armor flickering as they shifted.

Then, with a curt nod, they retreated.

The heavy door slid back into place, its thud echoing the relief that filled my chest.

I turned to Ellie, my eyes filled with wonder. "They… they listened to you?"

She stepped closer, her fingers brushing my arm. "I couldn't let them take you away. Not now. Not after… everything."

Every sensation was heightened at that moment — the gentle hum of the prison's life-support systems, the cold touch of the metallic walls against my back, and, above all, Ellie's proximity.

The space between us was thinning, driven by a force that neither of us could resist.

Our gazes locked, and the universe contracted into the space between her eyes and mine.

I could hear the subtle change in her breathing, a delicate cadence echoing my own heightened heartbeat.

My hand instinctively reached out to cup her face, her skin soft and cool against my own, grounding me to the moment.

And then it happened — the slow gravitational pull as our faces drew closer.

The world faded as our lips met.

It wasn't just a kiss; it was a discovery, an exploration.

The sensation was electrifying, a combination of the familiar and the new.

She was sweet, reminiscent of the trilax fruit, with a hint of her own unique essence.

Our universe condensed into this intimate dance of touch and sensation.

The melding of our lips spoke of longing, of lost time, and of dreams yet realized.

Every suppressed emotion, every shared moment, culminated in this profound connection.

It wasn't a mere joining of lips, but a merging of souls.

When we finally pulled apart, I felt both elated and breathless.

The world around us seemed to have changed, or maybe it was just the way we perceived it.

We rested our foreheads against each other, our breaths mingling, both of us processing the depth of our connection.

"I've never felt anything like that before," Ellie whispered, her voice shaky.

"Neither have I," I admitted. "It's as if the stars themselves ordained this moment for us."

She chuckled softly, the sound warming me from the inside. "You have such a way with words, Ceara. But yes, it did feel… cosmic."

In that dim cell, we found a sanctuary.

A place where, against all odds, two souls from opposite ends of the galaxy found resonance.

The challenges that lay ahead seemed distant as we reveled in the present, holding onto the promise that each shared moment offered.

The memory of our shared kiss lingered, a reminder of the depth of our connection and the potential of our shared future.

And then she took me by the hand and led me toward the bed.