She had cried herself to sleep, curled up on the cold sand that clung to her skin, leeching the warmth from her body. Her gaze, blurred by tears that just wouldn’t stop flowing, never left the distant horizon.  She had screamed for Eshrevi to return, and when her voice had faltered, she had whispered silent prayers that remained unanswered.

When she woke, the unrelenting light of Asada’s sun had left aching marks on her skin, and the rising tide stretched its claws towards her with each lapping wave.

“Eshrevi.”, Brennan said, her voice barely audible over the screaming gulls that circled above. She sat, brushing the damp sand out of her hair and from her dress. She no longer looked like a Starfleet Officer, and she no longer felt like one.

The shore was isolated, lonely and uncaring, yet hostile. And even though Brennan knew that she was alone, she felt watched, not by any living being, but something deeper. Sometimes, she could almost hear it in the deceptively gentle whispers of the wind.

Large rock formations in the distance promised shade, but she couldn’t move. Her eyes remained glued to a horizon that seemed to curve inwards and creep closer with every passing moment.

Eshrevi would come back. She was sure of that.

Brennan did not know how much time had passed. The suns’ descent into the waves bruised the sky and bled crimson into the waters below, taking the harsh light and oppressive heat, and replacing it with a cold chill that quickly seeped into her bones.

“You need to make a fire.”, Brenna told herself, but it wasn’t until the heat had fully dissipated that her body obeyed and she rose from the sand. Her limbs were stiff, her body exhausted.

“You won’t see her again if you freeze to death.”

Despite all that had happened, despite being left behind by the one person she had always trusted and counted on, it was this thought that kept her moving.

Soon, dry seaweed and pieces of driftwood nurtured the first spark. A small, almost insignificant source of warmth and light.

I have provided for you. You do not need to freeze, whispered the wind, but she ignored it. The bag with provisions remained where it had landed on the shore, tossed out of the boat that had bright her here, and whatever it contained, Brennan refused to touch it.

When hunger and thirst finally set it, they replaced the numbness in her body almost instantaneously. Her stomach gurgled and twisted, her throat burned, and her longing for Eshrevi was nothing but a dull ache in the back of her mind.

The water of the sea was salty as she tried it, a strangely sour, acidic taste.

There is fresh water in the bag. You only need to take it, said the familiar voice, louder now, more present, more pressing.

“I don’t want it.”, Brennan replied hoarsely, each word scraping against her throat. “I don’t want you.”

You could have everything you dream of. The voice promised. And more than that. 

“No.” She wanted to scream, but what left her lips was nothing more than a whisper.

You could be with Eshrevi again. With your friends. You could be happier than you’ve ever been, finally belonging, like you have always dreamed of. I can give you all of that. You just need to trust me. 

“I don’t need you.” The reply was of telepathic nature, but stronger than words could ever be. The voice – Naeric’s voice – subsided.

And when she returned to her spot by the shade, she took the charcoal left by the burnt wood, and upon the rocks, she wrote down what she knew to be true.

My name is Alcyone Brennan. 

I am a Starfleet Officer. 

I love Eshrevi. I will get her back. 

Naeric is not my friend. He is a liar.

She had promised herself that she wouldn’t give in. But as hunger and thirst transformed to pain, and pain became desperation, her hands reached for the bag, even when her mind was screaming at them to stop, and found an apple.

Brushed with autumn hues, plump and round, firm beneath her fingertips. The juice ran down her chin in sticky rivulets as she bit into it, savouring the tender flesh, the burst of sugar and acidity, the lingering note of caramel.

It quieted down her spiraling thoughts, the screaming in her mind, the doubts, the fear, the pain.

And when the sun rose once again, it painted the sky in gold and crimson, and caressed her skin with the gentlest touch.

Brennan sat up, her body still aching, but her mind strangely clear.

She smiled as she saw Naeric, kneeling next to her, his eyes gleaming with pride and joy.

“It’s almost time to go home.”, he promised and stretched his hand out to pull her to her feet.

As she stretched her limbs, her gaze fell upon the rocks, and the strange words written there.

Naeric is not my friend. He is a liar. 

Brennan furrowed her brows and looked at Naeric, his calm demeanour suffocating the flicker of doubt before it could manifest. She took one last look at the words she had written, then shook her head, and wiped them away, as if they had never existed.

The wind shifted, and somehow, the world around her seemed different. Brennan stifled an incredulous laugh, wondering how she hadn’t noticed its beauty before. And what it was that had kept her from trusting someone who had always been a friend and confidant. 

For a moment, she simply stood there, Naeric’s hand in hers, mesmerized by the sunlight’s dancing on the water and  waves kissing the shore line, leaving intricate patterns in the soft sand as they whispered sweet nothings, while birds wove their melodies into the morning air.

The pain and sorrow of the last days had dissipated, lifted from her soul like a veil. And not a single thought strayed to Eshrevi.