Grass. That's what she felt.
Cool blades brushed against Zahra's palms as consciousness returned in fragments. Dew clung to her skin, the earth soft and living beneath her fingers. For one fragile heartbeat, she thought she had woken somewhere safe.
Then the ground shifted.
The grass thinned beneath her touch, green giving way to gold. Sand breathed around her, warm and restless, swallowing the spaces between life rather than erasing them. Patches of grass still clung stubbornly to the dunes, their roots threading deep, refusing to let go.
The memories. Again?
The sand moved, not drifting, but remembering. Shapes rose and fell within it, half-formed and living, as though the land itself were trying to become something it once was.
Like air entering and leaving lungs. Zahra pushed herself upright, her chest tight.
Nearby, a memory surfaced.
A small child stood in the rain, clutching a tin box too large for her hands. Mrs Goodtree knelt before her, wrapping her in warmth, pressing her forehead gently to the girl's.
Zahra's breath hitched.
That was me.
There wasn't anything from her life with Mrs Goodtree before.
The memory shimmered, and the sand beneath it darkened.
A Shadow bled outward, thick and hungry, devouring the grass where it touched. It sucked the light out of the sand and lazily moved through nothing toward the darkness.
Fear coiled sharp in her stomach as the growing darkness stared at her once more.
"No," she whispered, stumbling back.
Her heel struck grass again. There was more of it now.
Instinct pulled her forward, away from the shadows, towards something older and warmer. The fear felt like it melted away, and as more memories grew and fell from the sand, more emotions were pulled from her. She moved towards what made her feel warm and safe.
With every step, the patches of green grew thicker, pushing back the sand. The air softened. The scent shifted — earth, water, blossoms carried on a breeze that did not exist moments before.
Her body began to feel heavy as exhaustion kicked in. Not a physical exhaustion, but a mental one that throbbed behind her eyes.
Ahead, something vast took shape.
A tree.
Its trunk was colossal, wider than any she had seen before, its bark pale and ancient, etched with age and memory. High above, branches stretched like reaching arms, heavy with blossoms the colour of dawn. Soft petals in the form of sand drifted down around her, settling on the grass like blessings.
Her chest ached.
She knew this tree.
A little closer, rising through the haze, stood the faint outline of a temple, tall columns half-formed from light and memory, neither stone nor dream, waiting to be remembered fully.
Zahra staggered towards it, her strength draining with every step.
Something prickled her spine, aware of her vulnerability. With tightening fists, she glances over her shoulder.
The darkness chased her. Dark clouds rolled like a growing storm, slipping between memories, clawing at the edges of the world. She pushed on, tears blurring her vision, the weight of too many lives pressing down on her ribs.
"I just want—" Her voice broke. "I just want to sit."
She moved faster towards the temple, and the world tilted.
The sand morphed, and stone paths replaced sand beneath her feet. The scent of flowers sharpened. Water murmured nearby. The temple dissolved into hedges and archways, the great tree's presence thinning into familiar shade.
Zahra's legs gave out.
Somehow, she knew where she was. She sank into the grass beneath a tree of the palace garden, breath shuddering from her lungs, every muscle trembling as exhaustion finally claimed her.
And from the depths of her mind, she remembered a song drifting, and the words lulled from her mouth.
Soft and safe.