One step backwards, and she was over the edge.
Water rushed from every direction. It filled her senses, blocking out the light. All was silent, save for the rush of water around her head. She could feel herself thrashing, trying to break the surface of the water.
When she did, it wasn't much better. Her hair mopped in her face, bangs drooping heavily over her eyes. Her arms flailed, reaching for anything and everything she could grab. They met with air and still, still she was being pulled from every direction. She vaguely remembered screaming.
The water pulled her under again, and she could feel herself losing consciousness. Fabric flowed around her, weeks of stitching, embroidering, ruffles, careful sewing, concentration lost. Ruined. Soaked. Ying found herself panicking. How were they supposed to hold a reputable name when she was such a failure?
Ying felt a weight around her waist, two arms pulling her back towards the surface. If she broke the water's edge, she couldn't tell. It was getting blurry as she moved back towards the shore, dragged by an invisible force. Were they arms? They felt too light to be arms. No, they were more like large strings of slimy kelp. Perhaps the reeds had reached down to grab her, cradling her softly to the river's edge as a scareling in their pumpkin. It rocked slowly, jarring on a rock against the current, but Ying didn't mind. As far as she knew, she had already succumbed to the water and Jack had come to take her home.
Finally, all was still. She felt sad between her fingers, mud mixing with rocks in her hair. Next came the retching, river water pouring from her mouth. It was painful, more painful than the drowning, but eventually there was air.
Vision came next, shapes slowly making sense as her hair was pushed out of her face. she could make out a face. Two concerned eyes stared back at her, puzzle pieces to her own teal ones that mirrored his. Worry was wrought in every crevice and wrinkle in his skin. She reached up to feel along the edges, but her hand wouldn't respond to her command, wouldn't move when she asked it to.
Two hands cupped her cheeks. She was aware there were other people crowded around, whispers to each other as the gossip spread. Undoubtedly by tomorrow it would have reached the outer edges of the clan, and she would be known as "that one filly that fell in the great river." It would be an embarrassment, dishonor to her and her family. She would get a fierce scolding, and a talking to by the elders of her family, followed by grounding, extra chores and no desert for a while. Not to mention all of the jokes that would follow from her dear brother about swimming and water- all of them patronizing, no doubt. None of that seemed to matter though, just the face staring back at her.
He mouthed some words, and Ying stared in confusion. She couldn't hear anything. Why was he so quiet?
Her ears popped and sound rushed in. "Ying? Ying??"
"I am here brother," she croaked, throat still stinging.
Vision disappeared again, replaced by the frontside of his vest. Hands cupped around her head, squeezing lightly but not enough to crowd her. "It is ruined Jing I- I fell in, the garments they- ... They-" Her words gave way to a round of coughs, unable to continue her thought.
"Stupid girl, they are insignificant in comparison." She gripped the fabric tighter. They didn't need more words than that. She tried to imagine if it had been Jing in the water, and felt immensely worried. It was okay though. Her brother was here and she was alive. "You should be more careful about where you choose to swim, dear sister."
Ying tried to laugh, but found the action painful. "I am sorry ... perhaps I will choose a more-" A cough, this one sounding more painful than the last. "Shallow area." The squeeze became tighter.
"No more words, filly." His voice sounded tired, worn around the edges like a scroll that sat in one of the historian's great libraries. She only realized now that his vest was wet, damp with river water. Had he been the one ... ?
No, Jing would never soil himself by jumping in the river.
She broke his one rule. "Get off me you oaf."
With a smile, he relaxed, but still held his arms out for support as she stood up. She was a strong little filly, he had always admired that. "Come Ying, we must go home. We have to replace the garments that you soiled." The sentence was harsh, but his words were tinged with a light air, relief flooding them too deeply to really be meant in a hard way. She turned to face the downstream river, looking at the bright red cloth float away, their entire week's work.
"If we must." A hand clapped on the back of her head, cupping it warmly. "I love you Jing."
There was no response. She didn't need one.
Igny's Tea Passport Log
[ Axel Tea ] | [ Rusekop Tea ] | [ Rostym Tea ] | [ Andie Tea ] | [ Sarviur Tea ] | [ Trebor Tea ] | [ Wonenwyng Tea ] | [ ReDawn Tea ] | [ Decyl Tea ] | [ Remye Tea ]
[ Axel Tea ] | [ Rusekop Tea ] | [ Rostym Tea ] | [ Andie Tea ] | [ Sarviur Tea ] | [ Trebor Tea ] | [ Wonenwyng Tea ] | [ ReDawn Tea ] | [ Decyl Tea ] | [ Remye Tea ]
