The wisdom and turtles. A short story of fiction

The Marshlands. With air full of forest smells and tiny creatures. With the people of the land. Dressed in layers and layers of moss coats. Their queen, with a watchful eye. Protector of the quadrant. The peace bringer. But there are hunters. Scavenging on the border. Hiding in the shadows. Crossing that thin life. Between life and death.

Would you kill and die to protect something that is not even yours? But they are. All of it is. The world is ours. We are all connected. We all lean on each other. Destroy a link in the chain and sign the treaty of death. In a crumbling balance. Her eyes darted open as a howl passed through the scarce pine trees. her feet started moving immediately, on top of the marsh. Knowing what would kill and what would provide a stepping ground.

The forest smelled like mushrooms. Berries. Food. Prey and hunters. She might have been the queen but, without the spirits and the wise animals, the marsh would drown in the ocean. Like so many other lands. And it seemed to be time for it to happen. But she had to protect those who kept the place alive. Who fed it with energy and wisdom of the world. Who carried the key. So there would be a chance for the rest to survive.

Her hair flew in the wind as she sprinted from a clump of grass to another. She picked up something on her way. Something tiny. Like rocks. There were dogs, somewhere behind her. Her people had all gone. To safety. She was the last one to stay and save the creatures of her quadrant. So they could bring life to another. It was her duty.

There were dead under the grass clusters. Countless careless people floating and nourishing the green. But she had been born here and knew every corner. She did not want to leave but the creatures had decided. It was time to move on. Unless they wanted to face extinction. So, she picked up those tiny rocks as she sprinted in her heavy coat. Such stamina, so many rocks in front of her.

She, holding them in her shirt. A boat and shelter formed in it. The rocks not moving, trembling. Worried, and connecting with each other. Invisible lines. A scream goes through her mind. Tiny but powerful. She looks back. A life extinguished. Her rocks trembling even more visibly. Just a couple left. Almost extinct. She needs to save them. The wisdom they carry. The intelligence they symbolize. One lost but the rest alive. She feels the pain but she has to move on.

The queen and her spirits. Her face covered in green, mud-like substance. Her platinum hair draped in moss, green growing out of it. They would not smell her or see. But they would look. The wolves that fed on knowledge. They would look and never give up. Until all of them were dead. Her little turtles. The rocks in her shirt.

She held the shirt with both of her hands now. There were so many and she hadn't had the time to grab a bag. Her sword dangled at her side and she unstrapped it fast. Her moss coat slipped on the ground as well. Less weight. More speed. Her feet would carry her, almost flying.

She was in the temple now. A clearing surrounded by majestic trees. This would be the first place they would look. But she needed to save the mother turtle. The one who had bred all of her children. The ones who took care of the marshes. The queen grabbed gold and the mother. There was no time for anything else. The wind brought the smell of wet dogs. They would be on her heels. Right behind.

All her life. Trained to move fast. Run and protect. Look after life. She did not understand the hunters. The creatures going after those that kept their home alive. Gave them land to walk on. But there was no time to ponder. So she ran. To the ocean. To the one place that would bring her to a new destination. Where she had never been as her duties had kept her on her land all her life. There were still people on the shore. Waiting for her. A single canoe boat, with six places. The boatman, the cartographer, and the last villagers.

Jumping off the marshlands and onto the beach sand was unusual for her. Her feet struggled with the grains between her fingers. The texture and the flat surface of the new land. She had seen it before but the shore was not hers. She could just look with all of the spirits under her responsibility. But now they were in front of her. Laying in her shirt. Twenty-four saved.

She looked back just for a second. To see gray fur from the corner of her eye. They had been close. They would try to get closer. So she yelled for the people to notice her and she sprinted towards the canoe. From suede, it seemed to be. Such a beautiful clay color. She would not know, she had never seen one. She knew not to jump into the tiny boat. When all of her people sat in it, the boatman pushed it and the water came almost to the brim. She looked over the ledge. She looked back at the predators. And she felt the spirit turtles give the command. It went through her body. A huge rumble sent energy to her eyes. Blue flames watched as her marshlands sunk. The hunters howled.

They would hibernate now. On their journey. The mother turtle would lay eggs and when they would reach their destination there would be double creatures than when they started. The water was calm. This was no ordinary ocean. There were rocks in the middle of nowhere. Doors that let you pass into various worlds on the same planet. It was all ocean but it was also all land. The planet of two separate dimensions. With doors on one side and lands on the other.

They would go for an island. One that was not inhabited. The turtles would bring land out of the water. Create life once more. They traveled a day and a night. There was the salty rain that she guarded her turtles against. There were eggs, hatching and immediately cared for. There was gold passing her and the boatman's hands. She would come naked to the new land. With no sword, no coat. With only her people and the spirits of life. With just her shirt on her frame and pants around her legs. No shoes. No gold. Just her soul and their hope, and commitment.

When they passed through that door. The boatman let her out. There were a couple of tribesmen from another dead land. Cynical and burned, but kneeling down in front of her. As she held what would bring life to their new home. She looked around at what she had never seen. Her own pine trees but no marshes. Just a sandy forest. On a tiny island. She kneeled down and dropped to her knees. All of the time throttling her shirt in both of her hands. She kissed the land even though she could see both ends of it. It was better than nothing. Her lips gathered sand but it did not matter. Her turtled woke up and they took their babies. They moved over the brim of her shirt. They took their queen to the middle of the island.

She buried herself in the sand. Her children ascended in the trees. Life bloomed. One more time. Lands came out of the ocean.

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Another day, another dream :D This was of me saving tiny turtles. No matter how weird or funny it sounds. But I was keeping those guys alive and in my shirt all the time. I was a woman on a mission in my dream. I loved the passing through dimensions. The doors were arches of stone just coming out of the water. And they had a curtain of dry algae protecting it. Not smelly and not as usual. Just like leaves. Kind of reminded me on the plastic pieces that you put in the pools that are both, indoors and outdoors. If that makes sense.

I hope you liked this one. It was more of a dreamy dream. With a quality of life.

Have the best day! Today, tomorrow, and forever!
Linda