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Mereida and Rose sat at a dive bar celebrating their last night in reality. They poured liberally from glass bottles of effervescent champagne and sugar cane rum. The room reeked of spilled liquors, leather, acrid sweat, and tobacco. A riotous band was crammed into a corner of the small room, pounding on their poorly-tuned musical instruments and yowling like stepped-on cats. The two women paid no mind as sweating bodies writhed around them, their barstools occasionally knocked into by the dancers.
Mereida had dark brown skin, black curly hair, and brown eyes. She wore a long, white, sleeveless dress with layers of necklaces and ornate jewels. A pair of translucent, magical seahorses travelled suspended through the air above her shoulders. What little light existed in the bar room was caught by Mereida’s jewelry and seahorses, illuminating her in an otherworldly glow.
Rose had white skin, long fiery red hair, and hooded brown eyes. A magical flame of magnificent colors stood suspended over her right shoulder, pulsing with life though emitting no heat. Rose wore all the rubies she owned, taken from merchants and dignitaries over her century-long career as a pirate. Mereida’s enviable assortment of aquamarines, polished shells, and pearls had the same origins.
At Rose’s feet rested two large leather satchels, packed heavily with the last of their carefully-selected belongings, buckled tightly for the journey ahead. On top of the bags laid a rolled up banner depicting a red rose blossom on fire in a sea of black. Rose sipped her hefty glass of rum, swallowing the fiery liquid, savoring the slow burn of two fingers.
“You are sure we will be able to find the Otherworld portal?” Mereida asked.
Rose nodded, taking out a piece of weathered yellow paper from inside of her burgundy leather coat. She smoothed it out across the wooden bar. Mereida leaned in close to Rose to examine the page. It depicted a drawing of a funny-looking elf face with a large candle burning on top of its head, wax pouring onto the elf’s hair and forehead.
“Such a strange picture,” Mereida laughed hotly near Rose’s ear.
Rose blushed. “The Glass people are known for being strange,” she agreed. “But they’re also known for inhabiting a world with every nicety a person could want. Warm, white sand beaches, crystalline waters, clean air.”
Mereida traced the rim on her champagne and black raspberry liqueur flute with her fingertip. She read the calligraphy text on the yellowed page out loud.
“‘Those human beings graced by the presence of Shadows are cordially welcomed to The Otherworld. Your Shadow will be your key through the portal.’ Why are they suddenly welcoming people like us to their world?”
Mereida glanced up at her own Shadows: the pair of seahorses that followed her, tethered to her body as if with invisible threads. The magical beings darted in minute, quick movements around her shoulders, chasing after one another in playful pursuit.
Rose looked at her own Shadow: a pulsing, brilliant flame that stood loyally over her right shoulder, granting Rose her infamous immortality.
Rose rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “They’re probably interested in our magical abilities. They most likely want to learn how to get their own magic back. The Glass people used to have magical powers, but those abilities have waned with time. They still have the colorful hair and eyes like the Glass people of old, but their magic is reduced. They can’t do much more than sing pretty songs and make nice houses.”
Mereida took Rose’s hand in her own. “I’ve heard tales of the Otherworld for years. I can’t wait to see it with my own eyes.”
With her free hand, Rose rubbed her fingertips together, sparking a small flame. She drew pictures in the air with her fingertip, images made of fire, illustrating a Glass person next to a dome-shaped house.
She then animatedly drew musical notes in the air all around her with broad swiping movements, knocking over her drink in the process, making them both laugh.
Mereida watched as Rose worked, the brilliantly colored flames flickering in their eyes as the images remained suspended in the air. She then waved her hand at the fiery pictures, emitting water from her palm, abruptly extinguishing the pictures simultaneously into steam vapors that rose around them. Mereida smiled triumphantly. “I’ll always be able to put out your fires.”
Rose smirked. “I think you start my fires quite nicely,” she said as she slipped her hand to Mereida’s leg, pushing at the side slit in the skirt, revealing a tattoo of a rose blossom on fire imprinted on Mereida’s thigh.
“No time for play now,” Mereida said with a sigh. “We need to leave reality before midnight.”
“That is true, my love. Glass people are known to be fickle and easily changeable,” Rose said. “All the more reason to get to the Otherworld as soon as we can, just in case they change their minds.”
Mereida smiled and nodded. “This world has been both cruel and kind to us. We were fortunate to be chosen by our Shadows, given our magical gifts, and lead to one another. We’ve taken what we can. It is time to move on.” The bracelets on her arm chimed as she lifted her champagne flute. “Paradise awaits us.”
Rose met Mereida’s glass with her own. “Anywhere with you is paradise, my love.”
