Aura

Aura stirred as the first rays of the morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across her face. She blinked, momentarily disoriented. Then it all came back—she remembered where she was. She sat up carefully, checking for lingering pain. The muscle aches and scrapes from the night before had vanished. The only remnant of the accident was a faint throb in her head. Porian regeneration was fast—quicker than any species she was aware of. The large bump on her head was now little more than a faint ridge beneath her hair.

Aura swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, careful as she tested her balance. Her returning strength brought a wave of relief. She gave a small, gleeful hop—the lightness made her smile.

She reached for the door—slipping out of the bedroom quietly, not wanting to wake her host.

When she entered the main living area, she spotted him sprawled on the couch, one arm thrown over his eyes, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths. Aura paused, studying him in the early morning light. He looked younger, less burdened by whatever troubles plagued him during his waking hours. Something about him stirred her curiosity. What story lived behind those eyes?

Shaking herself from her musing, Aura tiptoed past him and into the kitchen, intending to find the peppermint tea from last night. She rummaged through the cupboards, thinking about their conversation—Blake’s perception—especially about her eyes. He seemed to see beyond the surface—right into the heart. She had never met anyone quite like him. And their connection… well… it troubled her. She had to be cautious and guard her secrets. At least until she understood more about this world—and her place in it.

But for now, in this peaceful moment, she allowed herself to just exist. She inhaled the unfamiliar forest scents and felt the warmth of the sun streaming through the oversized windows.

She gazed into the forest—and froze. A figure moved deliberately through the trees, almost invisible, but unmistakably there. If not for the movement, she might have missed it. Panic surged through her as she let out a short, piercing scream. The shriek made Blake stir, his arm twitching as he shifted on the couch.

Aura locked onto the figure moving through the trees, her pulse surging. Instinctively, she ducked down, pressing herself against the cabinets—trying to calm her racing thoughts. She pressed her eyes shut—scenarios raced through her mind, each more terrifying than the last. Who could it be? Had they tracked her here? She wondered if she should warn Blake, but fear had rendered her immobile. The creak of floorboards made her eyes snap open—she was ready to confront whoever had entered the cabin.

Aura looked up to see only Blake standing there in front of her, bleary-eyed and confused. She jumped up with a sharp cry, crashing into his chest. She clung to him, burying her face as she tried to control her breathing.

“Someone’s out there,” she finally gasped, her voice shaking. “In the trees—watching us.”

“What do you mean, someone’s watching us?” he asked, rubbing his eyes—peering out the window—scanning the tree line. Aura shifted behind him, clutching his shirt.

“What exactly am I supposed to be seeing?” he asked, still half asleep.

Aura peeked out from behind Blake, spotting the shifting figure again. She pointed, her finger trembling. “There,” she whispered urgently, her voice barely audible. “Between those two large pine trees—I saw someone moving, sneaking through the underbrush.” She pressed closer to Blake, using him as a shield against the unseen threat.

Her thoughts swirled, the same question repeating in her mind. What if they saw me?

Blake followed her finger, squinting into the trees. His face grew serious as he tried to find what had frightened her this way. A broad smile broke across his face, followed by a thunderous laugh.

Aura jumped and stared at him in confusion, his body shaking with amusement. She pulled back, loosening her grip on his shirt. “What’s so funny?” she asked, her voice tinged with irritation. “I don’t understand. There’s someone out there, watching us, and you’re laughing?” She peered around his shoulder again, searching for the figure.

All she saw was the gentle swaying of branches in the morning breeze. “I don’t get it,” she muttered, her fear giving way to annoyance. “What am I missing?”

Blake caught his breath, his laughter fading. He looked at Aura with a grin. “It’s only a deer.” He caught her confused expression and gestured. “Look.” He guided her with his hands on her shoulders to the window.

Aura stared out the window, her eyes wide as she finally saw the willowy creature. The deer was in an open field, bounding through the tall grass in the distance. She exhaled, standing awestruck.

“A deer?” Her voice was hushed. “It’s so beautiful… so elegant. I’ve never…”

She caught herself—she’d almost said something unmistakably alien again. She turned to Blake, her eyes shining with excitement. “Can we go see it? I’d like to touch its fur—I bet it’s soft.” Aura leaned closer to the glass. She hoped to get a better view of the animal before it disappeared into the trees.

Aura remembered her own planet, where such animals were rare—always hunted, cataloged, tagged, studied. They never roamed free without fear of being captured—or worse. She turned her attention back to Blake, relishing the excitement of the moment.

“Is he friendly? He looks like it.” Aura bounced on her toes. “Do you think we’ll see him again?”

Blake took a step back and asked, “You really don’t remember deer?” The worried look from the previous night had returned. “Amnesia doesn’t work like that.”

Despite his concern, he answered her questions. “Deer are wild—they’re afraid of people.” He gave a short laugh. “And no, their fur isn’t soft. It’s actually pretty coarse.”

He shook his head, frowning. “Aura, your memories… they’re not normal.”

Aura’s excitement faded. She realized she’d overreacted. Now she was scrambling for a way to take it back, but nothing came to mind. She finally met his eyes. “I don’t know why I can’t remember.” Her voice was tinged with frustration. She was repeating the same false narrative about her memory loss. “There are gaps—blank spaces where memories should be. I remember how to talk, basic things... but not the rest.” She shook her head, feeling helpless. “All I know is, everything’s different. New. Like I’m seeing the world for the first time.”

Aura lowered her eyes, focusing on the dark-stained wooden floor. Her last sentence was the only truth she spoke; she was seeing things for the first time—in every moment. She looked back at him, eyes pleading for understanding.

Aura’s words hung in the air as she stared at Blake, waiting for his response. Each moment of silence deepened her guilt. Aura yearned to confide in him, to share the truth about her origins and the circumstances that brought her here. She didn’t know why she was so eager to share her story. Yet the logical fear of rejection held her back—a fear of being seen as a threat or a monster. The thought of losing his trust—and seeing it replaced with suspicion or disgust—also unnerved her.

She looked at the meadow.

But she also knew she couldn’t keep lying to him forever.

As the silence stretched on, the worry became visible on her face. Blake shifted his weight, running a hand through his own hair as if trying to gather his thoughts. He opened his mouth, meaning to speak. After a moment, he said, “I’m not trying to press you. I… I just want to understand.”

The simplicity of his response hit Aura hard, not in the way she expected. Understand? You don’t know the half of it. Aura pushed all the worries deep inside. She’d survived so much, so far—the destruction of her homeworld, an aimless journey through space, and a crash landing on an alien planet. Surely, after all that, she could handle the complexities of human existence.

At least, that’s what she told herself as she smiled up at Blake, hoping he wouldn’t see through the fragile mask she wore.

Aura caught the shift in Blake’s expression.

His voice was low and steady. “After breakfast, we’ll head into town—maybe something there will trigger your memory. I need to set up for my show.”

His gaze lingered—not invasive, only curious, like he spotted something new. She wondered if it was her eyes again or something else. Any change, even subtle, could be noticeable enough.

She was quick to compose herself. She tried to figure out why she kept letting her guard down around this man. Why him? Why now? He wasn’t the first alien male she’d met. She had always been so composed, so careful.

Snap, snap—Blake’s fingers pulled her back to the present. “Hey, I lost you.”

Aura blinked, meeting his gaze.

“I was saying if you’d like to come to town with me, I could use the company. I’ll make breakfast, then we’ll head out. Something there might jog your memory.”

She gave a small shake of her head. “Huh?—Yeah, going to town sounds fine. Seeing it might help.”

But she knew it wouldn’t. Maybe the trip would give her clues about the crash site—or signs she was being pursued.

It was clear she was being a coward—just like a typical Porian. She bit her lip. Alone in the cabin? No thanks. Better to stay with Blake—just in case someone showed up—besides, Blake seemed harmless.

“Why don’t you take a shower?” Blake suggested. “I’ll get you some clothes. I doubt they’ll fit any better. Then we’ll have breakfast, okay?”

Aura nodded, grateful for the suggestion. “A shower and fresh clothes sound perfect,” she said, glancing down at the loose-fitting sweats. She gave him a small, grateful smile, still trying to find her footing.

“I’ll be quick,” she promised, already turning toward the bathroom.

With a last glance over her shoulder, Aura slipped into the bedroom, leaving Blake alone in the kitchen, whisking the pancake batter.

_____________________________

Blake watched her close the door, his mind turning over thoughts of his new guest. There was something off, but she didn’t seem dangerous. And those eyes… there was something strange about them.

Then there were the conversations about her memory—she’d only scratched the surface of what was really troubling her. There was something deeper, something unspoken that he couldn’t quite place. He knew this wasn’t about lost memories alone.

He heard the shower turn on. Now was the time to get her some clothes.

Blake looked toward the stairs leading to the loft. Fourteen steps. He rarely climbed those stairs. Not since Nattie died. He went up the night before to grab the sweatpants and shirt for Aura. It just happened. He had put little thought into it. Now he was climbing them again—this time into Nattie’s closet. That felt even more personal.

He made his way to the foot of the stairs. Blake climbed, counting each step. He didn’t remember when he started counting, or even why. Twelve…thirteen…and fourteen.

He stood motionless, staring into the room he’d avoided for months. The bed perfectly made, the room immaculate except for the fine layer of dust on the nightstands and dresser.

Blake crossed the room to the closet, sliding open Nattie’s side, exposing the myriad of pants, shirts and dresses. He stood there, hesitant about what to choose. He settled on jeans and a plaid shirt. Memories of the past held him in place before he returned downstairs.

When he reached the bottom, he heard the shower still running. He slipped into the bedroom and laid the clothes on the edge of the bed.

Blake glanced at the jumpsuit Aura had worn the night before. It caught the sunlight filtering through the window. It shimmered, a bright silver. The fabric was obviously synthetic and completely seamless—not a stitch or thread in sight. No brand. No tags. No zippers.

The buttons were purely decorative: a row on each cuff, and one on the right side of the chest—serving no function. The cuffs didn’t open, nor were there any pockets. It looked sleek, overtly stylish—like something from one of those over-the-top Paris runways.

He ran his fingers across the fabric. It was silky to the touch. Cool. Strange.

Add this to the list of things that didn’t make sense.

He closed the door quietly as he left.

__________________________________

Aura stepped out of the shower and approached the mirror, bracing herself to confront her reflection. She wiped away the steam and met her gaze. The face staring back was an unexplainable blend of her true self and the human form she’d adopted. She traced a finger along her cheekbone, marveling at the smoothness of her skin—how human she appeared. Her prismatic eyes, shimmering with flecks of gold and green, betrayed her conflicted thoughts.

“I need to do something with these eyes.” She flipped through the spectrum of colors—greens, golds, browns, blues.

“Blue—that’ll do nicely.” She cycled through its shades. She landed on a dark blue, then laughed. “Too dark—no one’s eyes are that blue.” The blue shifted, becoming lighter and lighter until it was a striking, deep sky blue.

She smiled back at her mirror image. “Light blue, happy and content. Perfect.”

She continued to look in the mirror, stretching her body. The warm shower had removed the last pangs of tightness from her muscles, leaving last night’s injuries a distant memory. She rubbed the faint bump on the back of her head.

With one last look at her reflection, she said, “This isn’t me—but it’ll have to be.”

Aura returned to the bedroom and noticed the clothes Blake had laid out for her—a pair of sturdy pants and a shirt woven in intersecting lines. The clothes looked a little big for her, but his thoughtfulness was still touching. She was quick to get dressed.

Aura gave a wry smile at how loosely the garments hung on her. She concentrated, subtly reshaping her figure to better fill out the clothing. The effort was second nature—just another small trick of Porian biology. She didn’t plan on keeping this new figure, just curious how the clothes would actually fit. Aura was surprised by the curves of this human form—the hips, the breasts. Aura let out a loud laugh before catching her breath. I hope Blake didn’t hear that. She let her form ease back into the figure Blake had already accepted.

Aura let out a deep sigh and headed out to join Blake for breakfast, her nose twitching at the unfamiliar, enticing aromas drifting from the kitchen. Her stomach growled. It had been far too long since she’d had a hot meal. Last night’s sandwich filled a void, but it was still cold rations. This was real food—not shot out of some dispenser.

As she entered the cozy space, her eyes widened at the sight of the spread before her—fluffy cakes stacked high, crispy meat strips glistening with grease. There was a hot pot that was sending tendrils of steam curling into the air. “Wow,” she breathed, her mouth watering at the delicious scents. “This looks incredible. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

Blake turned to her and said warmly, “Of course I did—you’re my guest.” He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit. “Just wanted to make sure you had a good, hearty meal before we head into town. Besides, it’s nice to cook for two again.”

As Aura settled into her seat, a quiet ease washed over her in this quaint cabin. It felt welcoming—but for how long?

She shook off the troubling thoughts. She’d face the consequences of her secrets later. For now, she’d let herself enjoy the moment—savor the new food, the conversation, and the company of a man who, somehow, had become her anchor in this chaos.

As they finished their meal, sunlight bounced off Aura’s hair while she watched Blake take the last sip of his coffee.

“As soon as you’re finished, we’ll head into town,” he said, glancing at her feet before shaking his head. “I forgot to get you shoes.”

Aura watched as he ran up the stairs. Funny—she hadn’t noticed the stairs until now. He disappeared for a few moments, then returned with a pair of walking shoes, setting them beside her. “I’ll be right back,” he said as he grabbed two guitars leaning against the couch and headed out the door.

As the door shut behind him, Aura’s eyes drifted to the stairs. She hesitated, then climbed the stairs. At the top, she found a large room with an even larger bed than the one she’d slept in. The room was beautiful—framed pictures and soft floral touches gave it a warm, personal atmosphere. Blake’s voice startled her. “You shouldn’t be up there.”

Aura spun around, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she spotted Blake at the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered, her eyes wide with apology. “I didn’t mean to intrude. It’s just—the stairs—I wondered…”

She glanced back. She saw the dust, the careful arrangement, the untouched bed—and she knew she’d stepped into something private. “Is this your room?” she asked. She took a step back, putting distance between herself and the space she’d stumbled upon.

Blake looked down, his hand running along the banister, his expression grieved. “It doesn’t feel like my room anymore. It’s hard to explain.” He sighed, eager to change the subject. “Why don’t you try those shoes on, and we’ll get going.” Blake grabbed the floor monitor and headed out the door.

Aura knew she’d touched upon something sensitive. She shuffled down the stairs into the main room, sat on the couch, and slipped on the shoes.

They didn’t fit her perfectly, but then they weren’t made for her. She took a few tentative steps, surprised at how comfortable they were.

“These are great,” she said with a smile as Blake walked through the door.

Aura caught a flicker of caution in Blake’s eyes. He had said little, but she could sense it—his anger, confusion, even disappointment—all hanging in the air. Yet, there was something else, too. He wasn’t pushing her away. He wasn’t yelling. Somehow, that made her feel even worse.

Blake sighed and looked at her. “Hey, you didn’t know. It’s just not something—I share with strangers.”

He pulled open the door, and they headed to the jeep together. At the driver’s side, he opened the door and nodded. “Hop in.”

Aura climbed through the driver’s side and slid across before Blake could get in. Blake laughed. “Forgot which side to use?” he teased, nodding to the passenger door.

Aura gave a sheepish grin as warmth crept into her cheeks. “Yeah, right.” She shrugged, trying to laugh it off.

Aura observed Blake buckle his seatbelt, then fumbled with hers until she heard a satisfying click. As Blake started the engine and pulled onto the road, Aura stared out the window at the passing scenery. The sun-bathed landscape stood in stark contrast to the torrential scene from the night before.

_________________________________

A lone sentry crouched behind the shrubs between two pine trees. In the distance, a deer grazed in a meadow. From the edge of the property, he had a clear view of the house. He trained his sights on the red jeep, pulling away with two occupants—one male, one female.

He lifted his communicator, his voice low and calm. “They’re leaving the house—heading into town.”

He waited for the reply. “Are you sure it’s her?”

“I tracked her as far as I could. This was the nearest structure—I’m fairly certain.”

The reply came quick. “Anything else?”

“I almost got spotted. Next watch should wear camo.” He raised his binoculars, tracking the jeep as it vanished behind the trees.

“Good work. We’ll pass it on to the Director,” the voice returned through the earpiece.

The sentry stood, his uniform marked with USFS insignia—he continued to scan the surrounding area before lowering his binoculars.