Page 11 of Of Withering Dreams
My feet stood firmly on a pristine platform made of sparkling white marble, curving ahead of us. Stepping down a few bow-shaped steps, a path created from copper-colored glass continued from the platform, forming a narrow lane through the center of a semi-circular grove of lush trees. The leaves were rich shades of orange and red, creating massive domes that sheltered the mossy ground below.
The glass pathway was big enough for four people to walk shoulder to shoulder. Lining either side of the trail were deep, glimmering aqua pools that ended before the grove. I’d never seen such an electric color before.
Sparkling sand covered the bottom. Movement caught my eye as a fish with iridescent white scales swam beside us and under the glass walkway, one violet eye curiously assessing us. It was the size of a chubby cat that had roamed freely in our village for turns.
I didn’t realize my mouth was hanging open until Kaden’s fingers nudged it back into place. He walked toward the grove, following Breena and Letti, his shoulders shaking with laughter.
My eyes found Gavrel’s fixed on me. They were deep green again, stark against his tanned skin. It was startling seeing the world in color once more. A quick puff of air left me. “This … this is beautiful.”
“It is. You’re safe now.” His gaze was warm and reassuring, reminding me of home.
“How long were we there? It felt like days, but I’m not entirely sure.”
“Time moves differently there. While it’s been only a day in the mortal plane and Surrelia; it was roughly three days in the Stygian Murk,” he explained.
I hugged one arm across my chest, holding on to the other. I nodded in understanding, even though I didn’t understand anything at all.
“It’ll take some time. The ember in that place is malignant. It drains you of your will to hope—tolive. Don’t let it win.” He brushed his hand over my shoulder, a warm path lingering under my skin in its wake.
“I have so many questions, but they all feel too overwhelming.” The weight of bewilderment pressed down on me. My eyes closed for a moment.
“I know. I’ll do my best to answer them when you’ve rested. I’m here if you need me.”
My gaze fell on my dress, covered in crusted blood and grime. “Thank you, Gav. I do need something …” An embarrassed smile lifted the corners of my mouth. “For the love of Ancients, lead the way to a bath.”
His full lips smirked, his cheeks pushing the skin around his eyes into crinkles. My face flushed, and I stammered, “I mean … for me. Alone. I, uh … You can take a bath. By yourself …” I trailed off, flustered and looking at everything but him.
“Thank you for allowing me a bath.” He chuckled.
“I meant?—”
“Take a breath, Seryn. I knew what you meant. Shall we?” he asked, holding out his arm. I placed mine in the crook of his elbow, pressing my front teeth into my lower lip. The heat in my cheeks abated.
We strolled through the grove, everything around us bursting with life. The curious fish from earlier followed us under the transparent trail, swimming in lazy circles under the glass.
If pigments were drained from the Stygian Murk, I wondered if Surrelia was where they culminated. The vibrancy of the flora, sky, and water brimmed over as if the hues would spill into you if touched. I dipped my head. Perhaps I was used to Evergryn, which was pallid and depleted.
I glanced at his right hand, curious if the mark was still visible. It was, but it was no longer glowing. I unthreaded my arm from his elbow, pausing a moment under the orange shade of the grove. He shifted slightly toward me with one eyebrow raised.
“What is this on your hand?” I took his thick wrist in one hand and the toughened tips of his fingers in the other, flattening his palm to get a better look. His skin was warm as he allowed me to inspect it.
It was an intricate, geometric tattoo drawn in silver metallic ink—a ten-point star with delicate lines crisscrossing between the vertices. In the center was a perfect decagon—the sacred figure of the Ancients. An image of our ten-sided conservatory flitted through my mind like a distant memory.
My thoughts were distracting me as I brushed my thumb over the tattoo. A soft light underneath the mark illuminated it for a moment. Gavrel pulled his hand from mine, covering it with his other.
He cleared his throat. “It does that sometimes.” He faced forward, and we continued on the path. “I’m part of a specialized Order of Draumr unit granted augmented abilities through tattooed runes. It’s useful in battle—it enhances our strength and agility. Connects with our weapons, enabling them to deflect or destroy lesser ember forms.” He hesitated, a heavy exhale falling from his lips. “The mark is only visible outside Midst Fall.”
“Oh. Well, that’s amazing, Gav. I’m so proud of you. I didn’t realize that was even possible. The runes, I mean.” My eyebrows lifted in interest.
A small smile crept across his lips, the slightest color blushing his ears. I noticed he kept his wavy ebony hair trimmed neatly. It was long enough for the top to be swept back casually, loose waves from the sides teasing his nape and ears.
“Thank you,” he said after a moment. His smile faltered and fell into a flat line once again. “The Elders and their ember can do many unimaginable things.”
I looked at him. “Well, I’m grateful for it. Yours kept the shades from attacking us further.” One corner of my mouth ticked upward. “Thank you for finding us, by the way.”
“The Nether Void couldn’t keep me from finding you, Little Star.” His eyes swept over my face. Under his piercing stare, heat flared across my rounded cheeks. He was the only one who still used my nickname. For a moment, I wondered what he saw.
Mama gave me the moniker as a child. She used to say my scar was a star-shaped kiss from the Ancients, then would smack a smooch on my cheek and tickle me into fits of laughter. A smile spread across my face at the memory.
