RYST

  “Necklace, please Nayth, I want to see it.”

  “Mine too,” he replied.

  We took turns unclasping each other’s necklaces, and I got to see my little pendant which was two metal hands, fingers intertwined holding a small opalescent sphere. “Is this—“

  “Moonstone, Methela. Mine?”

  “I found the dark olive sea glass rope when I was a little girl on the beach in Starlend. That type of glass— the ropes intertwined— is really common on my home world, but I always loved that piece because of how it looks like it’s coming unwound on the top, where the bail is.”

  “I like the copper chalamin chain. Very artistic.”

  “I didn’t know what chalamin was until I met the jeweler who fashioned the glass into a pendant for me on Shurwinn! I wouldn’t have thought copper would make a good chain either—“

  “It wouldn’t,” Nayth shook his head. “But that’s the advantage of the chalamin. Did you know my grandfather developed this method of smelting which allowed for jewelry like this and the thread like I use in my suit jackets?”

  I grinned, shaking my head. “Not until Peydran sent me the recon on Carmidee Manufacturing when I was coming to meet you!”

  “Amazing, Ryst. Amazing. I love it. Put it back on for me?”

  “Tell me about my pendant, Nayth. It’s so pretty.”

  “I bought the moonstone on Juel a few months before I started dreaming of a woman that I loved more than life. Here, this is the explanation that came with the stone.” Nayth went over to the bookshelf and pulled out a little card that read:

  Shrouded in a veil of mystery,

  moonstone holds the power to unlock the self.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  On the journey to retrieve what is missing,

  parts of the soul that have been forgotten,

  with moonstone, all is brought to light.

  “It was one of those things that I bought not knowing why I was buying it, but I knew I needed to. Then, a few months later I started dreaming of the woman.”

  He hugged me to him, his chin fitting just over the top of my head and continued in a whisper: “I was running through the dark, and she was running in front of me. I had to get to her, but there was a light, and when she ran into the light, I woke up.”

  As he spoke, I could see the dreams in Nayth’s mind. His memories showed me what he had dreamt.

  “It was the same for a while. Me always chasing a woman who was running into light. Then one night, I reached out and my right arm went around her waist and pulled her to me. I loved her. I loved her so much, and she wasn’t afraid of me. She hadn’t been running away from me. She just relaxed against me, and I woke up. That kept happening until it changed to me naked behind her and her on her knees, my right arm around her waist and her begging me to fuck her. You know that part already."

  "Once I realized that the ravaging dream wasn’t going to go away, I decided to use it as a way to find her. I started trying to find her with intimacy. Sometimes I’d wake up spent, and I’d know she’d been with me. Sometimes I remembered details, but a lot of the time I didn’t. I just knew— I could taste her. I could hear her pleasure. I felt what she felt when I touched her. I wasn’t always asleep. I’d just know she was with me, wanting me to touch her. We made love a lot. There were whispers. . . ."

  "There were dreams, but nothing that I could use to find her. I knew she wasn’t on Sturm or Floria. Eventually, I found out I’d written songs I didn’t know I had written in my files. I just did stuff knowing that I needed to do it, but not always remembering it. A couple of years ago, I knew I needed to make a necklace. I drew the pendant and took the moonstone to one of the artists at Carmidee Manufacturing, and you’re wearing the result."

  "The hands and chain are chalamin, like the necklace you made me, but it’s the original silvery color of chalamin. That was when I found that description of moonstone in my cabinet. I had forgotten it came with the stone: ‘a journey to retrieve what is missing, parts of the soul that have been forgotten’— like a song or a dream.”

  My voice soft, I questioned, “Your dreams, Nayth— my first dream. The first time I dreamt of you— you hugged me, and it was the most wonderful thing I had ever felt. I wasn’t doing well, and it was comfort and peace. Home and belonging. Do you remember? Were you there?”

  He held me to him, and I could feel his mind searching, wondering if it would be in song lyrics in his files. “I don’t know, Ryst. But it’s like after Juanna’s in my porter. When you said ‘I had a dream,’ and I knew what would come next. It’s hard to tell what is memory and what is dream. I hear you describing your dream of me hugging you, and I don’t remember it exactly, but I know that it happened. I held you so many times. I was always holding you in my sleep.”

  “Maybe it’s right now, Nayth. Maybe I dreamt this memory; you hugging me right now. I love you.”

  “I love you, Ryst. Always have, always will.”