He comes to me in my dreams. A being of infinite light infusing me with exquisite warmness that leaves me breathless when I awaken.

"Auri!" Granny calls downstairs. "You've got a visitor!"
A visitor? "Coming!" I roll out of bed, stumbling at the stairs as I pull on my jeggings.
"Be careful! Dear God, you could break your neck doing that!"
"Sorry, Granny."
She clears her throat. "Your friend's waiting in the lounge."
"Friend?"
"Yes. She said her name was Maya and that she needed to talk to you."

She sits in Grandpa's old armchair; her legs folded under her long lemon skirt.
"Hey," she says. "How are you? I mean, I didn't know what to do when you almost..."
"Drowned? I'm fine. Thanks. No ill effects or anything like that."
"Phew! I don't think I could've handled the guilt had you died."
"Well, you don't have to. But you didn't come here just to check on me. Am I right?"
"No. I came because I wanted to invite you to my birthday party."
"Your birthday? When's that?"
"Sunday. But my party's on Friday. Everyone will be there. So, will you come?"
"I don't know. This invitation came at a short notice."
"I know. But I really want you there. I want us to be friends again. Like we were before. Please?"
"Oh. Fine. I'll come."
"Good," she says, eyes fixed on my neck. "Your necklace is so pretty. Where'd you get it?"
"I... bought it. In an antique store."
She rises from the armchair. "See you on Friday. K?"
"Wait! I don't have your address."
She taps her phone. "Now you do."
"She's a sweet pea," Granny says after she's left. "I assume you'll need help picking her a present?"
"I could use the assistance."
"We'll go shopping tomorrow. Pick her something good."

We end up choosing a kit of perfume samples as a gift. The cashier wraps it in glittery birthday paper; a choice I find a bit childish as I bring it to her party. The house is packed with people sitting on the sofas vaping and drinking beer. Some play video games on the television while a few daredevils lean over the table snorting coke. Collin lies on the island, thoroughly stoned out of his mind. Hannah and Robin make out with some wannabe hipsters in the hallway, ignoring Maya who dashes in and out of the rooms like a butterfly on amphetamine.

"Auri! Wow! Your dress is stunning!" she says, spinning me.
The black nylon brush against my legs like a feather. Out of the corner of my eye I spot Simon gazing at me from across the living room.
"Here, I got you this," I give her the kit.
"Thanks! You can head on in. We've got snacks and drinks in the kitchen."

She grabs herself a drink and disappears up the stairs. The pulsing beat draws me in to the belly of the beast, but the smelting air tightens around my throat like a snare, forcing me to seek the coolness of the conservatory.

"You were quick to sneak away."
I turn to Simon leaning on the door frame.
"Just like last time," he says, dropping down on the chair opposite mine.
"Is that a problem?" I ask.
"No. You obviously prefer your own company. Something we have in common."
"Then why are you here if you prefer to be alone?"
"Call it self-indulgence. Watching people race to the bottom brings a morbid entertainment."
"What do you mean?"
"Look at them. They drown themselves in drugs and alcohol. They fondle each other even as their porn-addicted brains reels in disgust. And they stare at the avatars on their screens as the muscles breaks down in their bodies."
"That's just life," I say. "We don't live in the eighteenth century anymore. When technology was fiction rather than reality."
"People were the same back then. Greedy and morally rotten as they are now."
For some reason, Galen's face appears before me. His golden hair. His clear yet sensitive features. His bright and tender eyes. Why am I here when I could be with him?
"I gotta go."
"Wait. You can't leave yet."
"Why not?"
"If you leave Maya will only think you came to be nice."
"So? Why do you care what she thinks?"
"I don't. But as her cousin I've gotta act the part."
"You're her cousin?"
He nods. "Stay for an hour. Then you can make up an excuse for why you're leaving."
I consider his advice. "Okay. One hour."

I keep to myself in the conservatory, counting the minutes as they go down. Though when Maya wants my help doling out headbands to play Heads Up! I reluctantly let her put one on me and grab the box. People keeps snickering as I make the rounds, as if they're watching a trained monkey at a circus. Hannah and Robin are the worst with their painted nails pointed at me. Only Simon remains unamused. I don't get it. Why are they acting so juvenile? As I pass the hallway mirror the symbols on the paper stops me. The letters are spelled backwards but I've no problem reading the words: ugly bookworm. It all happens in a blur, pulling off the headband, running downstairs, ripping my denim jacket off the overstuffed clothing rail, slamming the door behind me as a gust of wind hits me in the face. The gravel scrape beneath my heels as I round the first corner.

"Hey! Wait up!"
I don't slow down but Simon catches up to me regardless.
"Wait up!"
"Go away, Simon."
"You said you'd stay for an hour."
"Do you honestly think I'd stay when made fun of like that?"
"No. But you shouldn't let it get to you."
"That's easy for you to say. You might be able to shield yourself with your brooding demeanour but I've got nothing to protect myself from being picked on."
"It's happened before?"
"Just go away Simon. Seriously. I don't want you following me home."

His steps fizzles out like fireworks. But to be safe, I quicken my own, chest heavy as a pile of books as I cut through the streets. Dots of stars mark the deep blue sky, dividing the line between heaven and earth. Even though the moon can't be seen tonight, it's there, shining on this corrupt and fallen world. How stupid I was. What childish part of me thought it'd be a good idea going to that party? I never should've believed Maya when she said she - A rough hand covers my mouth, pulling me under the shadows of the trees. Every muscle tightens like a rubber band. Images of getting mugged, stabbed, raped, killed flash like snapshots, awakening an ancient fire as I furiously begin thrashing like a wild animal. I stomp on his foot and shove my elbow in his stomach. His grip loosens, and I lunge out of his embrace, taking off towards the lake. Scorching liquid swamp my veins, slowing me to where it feels like I'm ploughing through knee-deep snow. The wind bites into my face, drying my eyes and tear-drenched cheeks.

"Galen!"
The lake's not far ahead. I force myself to keep moving, dragging my bare feet through the long, wet grass.
"Galen..." I curl up against the log. "Please come..."
Sobs gush up my throat, preventing me sensing the hands touching my trembling body.
"Aurora? Aurora! What's wrong? Tialin Lhassana..."
"Galen?"

Without thinking I throw my arms around him, holding on as if he's the only thing keeping me from falling. He lets me cling to him for a long time, stroking my back and whispering softly in his tongue. Once I've stopped crying, he hands me the root, the transformation dulling the agony to a point. When it's done, he helps me up and brings me to his sanctum, offering me the silky fabrics in the hammock.

"Rest," he says. "I'll be close."

And with these words, a mountain of weariness descends on me, and I drift into the soothing realm of Hypnos.
Oscar Wilde once wrote: "A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world."
Well, from what I've seen of the world there's not much to brag about. Which admittedly isn't much. But true, nevertheless. Here, in the bedrock of earth, I can dream of something more. Something real. Unlike the previous visits I don't leave at the cusp of dawn. I stay and enjoy the meal Galen has prepared. Shrimps served on a plate decorated with clams and herbs. And slices of fish caked in seaweed.

"Did you make these?"
"Yes," he says, seating himself opposite me. "I tried choosing ingredients you would like. That are familiar."
"Familiar?"
"To humans."
"What do you prefer to eat?"
"Fish."
I giggle. What else would it be? However...
"Is it common among Asrai to invite someone in this way?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, in my culture you don't invite someone to stay the night unless they're friends or..."
"Or?"
"Never mind. What I mean is that I appreciate you let me stay the night. That you came when I called. I didn't know where else to go. So, thank you."
"Why wouldn't I come for you? If you call for me, I'll come."
"Y-your English has improved," I say, scrambling to change the topic. "Have you been practicing?"
"No. I've been listening. To humans travelling on the water."

Hmm. He must've listened to couples lounging on their expensive sailboats. Maybe even gleamed some insights out of kayakers and fishermen when they were immersed in their passions. Though his vocabulary likely deepened from families swimming along the shore.

"I see. Have you always lived in this lake?"
"No. I came here several moons ago when my old sanctuary was lost in an earthquake."
"You told me your people were gone. That they had passed on. But are they all truly gone?"
"They are gone."
"How do you know?"
"No one answers my call. The magic has gone silent."
"If you don't mind me asking, could you tell me about your people?"
He smiles a warm but woeful smile. "My people lived on Earth for many ages. We built our sanctuaries in lakes and oceans all over the globe, and we channelled our magic through the So'erithvin'rikk."
"The erithvin - What?"
"The... core of the earth. It connects our magic to the intricate net of the atmosphere."

He makes a gesture with his hand and a whirlwind of radiant energy flow around us like little seahorses.

"And you lived in secret all this time? You never revealed yourselves to humanity?"
"No. We did. Once, we walked the surface like you do. We shared our knowledge with your ancestors and taught them how to make magic."
"Once? What changed?"
"The humans. In the beginning they used their gift to yield more crops. To heal the sick and sanctify the soil. But the magic corrupted them. They slowly turned their powers into a weapon of war they used to destroy themselves and us," he says, eyes lost in some faraway memory. "We were forced to strip them of all magic. Kill those who resisted. And then... fade. Taking their memories of us into the sea."
"Was it a unanimous decision? You returning to the sea?"
"It was. We all agreed it was for the best."
"It wasn't a command made by your leaders?"
"No. We didn't have leaders or rulers like you do. Asrai lived in understanding of one another. We believed in unity of the self and reverence of the light."
"Reverence of the light?"
"Yes. Your people have a similar view. You believe that when you die your soul will reach the light of Heaven. That you'll be reunited with your God. Our belief differs in that we say we are beings made of light. Our bodies are merely vessels containing that light. And when we pass on, we return to our pure - unfettered - selves."
"So, you believe you'll return to what you were? Your true self?"
"Yes. Our light merge with the cosmos and we pass into Sirynthria."
"The afterlife?"
"No. Sirynthria is... the state of oneness. Of completion."
"You become one with the universe?"
"Not exactly, but yes. Close enough."
"Do you believe in God?"
"Not the way you do. Asrai didn't worship any one specific god. But we believed in a divine force shaping the universe and existence itself."
I take a bite off the shrimps.
"This is delicious," I murmur.
His eyes lights up. "I have more if you want. Other varantil and herbs to eat."
"I'd like that."

He swims to the nursery and begin picking more for his dishes. The luminosity draws me in like moth to a flame. Blue, green, yellow and one purple plant in particular catches my eye. It rises out of the sand like a miniature tree, its branches pulsing with power.
"What's this?" I ask, turning to him.
"Sor'Vithrydinn. Sacred magic. The spring of rebirth."
"Can I eat it?"
"Only if... you wish to remain."
"You mean it'll change me? Permanently?"
"Yes," he nods, tone measured. "You will be Asrai. Forever."

The plant hums in the pot, its pulse as strong as a heartbeat. Why does the thought of staying here not frighten me as much as it should?