She had dark, tumbling hair, skin the color of bronze, gleaming, smooth and perfect, eyes black as onyx, and a face too lovely; Jasmine couldn’t stop staring. The mystery woman turned her focus on Jasmine, she felt her face heat up, yes she was blushing, but she felt warmer with that gaze upon her.
Something about the woman’s focus that felt as if it was seeping into her soul. She imagined the rays of the sun penetrating her skin, reminding her of beach days as a kid.
Immediately Jasmine could picture the day, including the bathing suit she was wearing, a mock bikini that made her feel older than her 9 years of age, and the sandcastle she built that was destroyed in seconds when a wave took it out, a tsunami to the imaginary princesses and princes. She could hear the laughter, feel the beach blanket on her cheek and she napped in the radiance of the sun.
No, wait… was it the sun? There was no sun, she wasn’t at Huntington Beach, she was in this dark, wet alley, in a city she couldn’t remember. But she felt like she wasn’t there, that she was warm and safe and cared for, and it was this mysterious woman.
The raven-haired goddess nodded to her compatriots, inso turning her gaze away from Jasmine, and she instantly felt cold and alone, a sadness consuming her, a tightening in her chest, she thought she might cry. Her elbow was gripped gently from below.
“My dear, that’s perfectly normal,” she could hear Sir Reginald’s calming velvet voice, but never removed her eyes from the woman. “She has that effect on all mortals, even you it would seem.”
Jasmine began to register that words were being said to her, “I’m – I’m sorry?” she said, shaking off what felt like the lethargy of a sleeping pill.
“Ana, my dear,” Reginald indicated his head in the direction of the source of warmth.
“Ana?” Jasmine said, still stunned and groggy.
“Yes, Jasmine,” Reginald trying to be more forceful, “Ana… the djin. The immortal goddess of infinite power.” His voice was a forced whisper, that never seems to be actually quiet.
Jasmine shook her head, feeling the cobwebs break apart and her conscience returning. The dark alley returned, the sounds of cars and shuffling feet in the city got louder, and Jasmine felt an emptiness, and a longing for Ana to return her focus, providing that sense of warmth once again.
Reginald took Jasmine’s arm and led them out of the alley, and she accepted that this melancholy was now a part of her.
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