Page 28 of Phixmery

“Nero!” I cry, my voice breaking as my throat becomes raw. Tears soak down my face, turning pink as they mix with the blood that coats my flesh.

“Come here, Little Dream let me help, let me take your fears away,” a voice whispers, silencing my cries as everything around me melts into a familiar view of white flowers and sprawling mountains in the distance.

I take a deep breath, digging my fingers into the frozen soil beneath where I’m sitting, grounding myself with the pain.

It was just a dream, I repeat to myself as I breathe through the now fading panic. Nero is fine, he’s most likely sleeping beside me in his nest on the perch. Although the urge to wake up and make sure is riding me hard, yet no matter how hard I try to wake up I can’t.

It’s peculiar that I always seem to become lucid when I dream of this place. It feels like a piece of home, but from what I remember of home, though, this definitely isn’t it. It’s a feeling without the visual memory of the place, faded with time.

A familiar white dragon soars down from the mountains and into the field, taking up its usual spot in the meadow amongst the flowers. Being so close to the dragons at Phixmery have given me an appreciation for them, especially since one of them saved me from splattering myself across the rock- and snow-barren land.

The dragon watches me in return, our normal song and dance. I’ve never spoken to it; I’m not even sure if it can speak. But it’s my dream, so anything is possible, right?

My thoughts form on my lips and before I realize what’s happening, my voice quietly echoes around the field. “Why do I keep coming here? Is it because even in my dreams, I can’t stand the sight of my past?” I ask quietly, mostly to myself but hoping by some miracle the beast replies. It’d be sad to be speaking to myself in my dreams. Maybe I can use this lucidness to work through my plans without having to worry about not getting enough sleep. I would just need to figure out how to get here more often.

The dragon eyes me curiously, with a spark of intelligence that reminds me of visiting with my mother’s bonded dragon, or at least the feeling that correlates with the memory. Stupid brain and repressed thoughts.

“You’re here because I can’t stand watching you suffer your fears in your dreams,” the beast rumbles, “no matter how exaggerated they are. You’re safe where you are.”

My brows furl together in confusion. Why would a dream figure not want to watch fears and past memories play out? He must be delusional if he thinks I’m safe at Phixmery. “No, I’m going to flee. I made a promise to stay hidden and that’s what I’m going to do.”

The dragon chuffs, snowy frost billows from its snout. “Yes, you need to stay hidden until it’s over and it’s safe to come home. You should rest, Little Dream. I’ll keep watch and keep your demons at bay.”

His words cause a drowsiness to come over me, and I lie down amongst the white petals and snow, watching the dragon as a yawn escapes and the dream slowly fades to darkness.

THE SCENT OF decaying parchment and scroll fills my nose as I stride into the library, finally having the permission to view the tomes and texts on familiar bonds. Captain Reiner was ecstatic that I wanted to look into it before supplying him with an answer. I think he thinks it means I’m leaning towards yes—which I am—but not if any of the information in here will give anyone anything to use against us.

Segments of the dream I had last night drift through my mind. No, I won’t let anyone harm him. Ever. My fingers drift up to him, perched on my shoulder, and he nibbles on my finger. His sharp beak is a comforting feeling.

“It was just a dream, Rav. Nothing is going to happen to me. Let’s just focus on learning about us, hm?” He flutters his wings in excitement, bobbing his head a few times.

My breath blows out hard as I try to let his fear-assuaging words sink in. “You’re right, I just don’t want anything happening to you. It would kill me.”

Nero nuzzles my cheek as I approach the desk with the old cantankerous female. “Here is the permission you requested so I can see the texts on bonds,” I state, handing her the letter Captain Reiner wrote out for me after his lesson today.

She takes it, eyeing Nero and I askance, before grabbing the silver letter-opener and cracking the wax stamp on the scroll. She reads it over a few times, her gaze growing comically large with each pass. “He really is a familiar,” she whispers in awe, her face completely transforming from her usual surly expression into something of wonder. She clears her throat. “Right this way, Cadet Solace.”

She rises from her desk, her skirts billowing around her as she starts off down the aisle I just came from, each thump of her combat boots sounding far too loud for such a studious place. Nero and I glance at each other before I hurry to catch up with her.

We follow her to two grand doors, which she unlocks, gesturing for us to go inside before following us in and locking the doors again.

“This is where we keep texts that are restricted unless you have permission. Now if you and your familiar would follow me, I’ll get you set up with everything we have on bonds,” she states with an air of wonder and excitement.

“His name is Nero,” I tell her with a small smile and watch as her eyes light up.

She dips her head towards him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nero.”

He dips his feathered head in return and she brings us to one of the tables in the center of the grand room before scurrying off to the shelves.

Artifacts, texts, tomes, and more are organized around the space on shelves and in display cases. The rich woods and elegant interior of the room bring a sense of scholarly knowledge, like being in the same vicinity as all this information makes you feel as if you’re just absorbing it all just from being in the same room.

Much like the rest of Phixmery, this area embodies the dark sense of wonder the rest of the castle holds: elegant designs embossed onto wood near the ceilings of the shelving, rich, deep browns and black wood, everywhere tables, chairs, display cases and more.

Nero bops the bottom of my chin and my jaw slams shut. “You’re drooling, Rav,” he teases.

“Am not.” But I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth, just to be safe. Though, I can’t help but peer more at my surroundings.

A tome thudding in front of me snaps me out of my daydream-like perusal of the space. Dust whooshes up and I sputter as I try to swat it away.

---