Page 51 of Prisoner of Darkness and Dreams
Starfall, the capital of Agathyre and the seat of the dryad high council. Unlike Filusia and Trova, the dryad nation has never had a monarchy. They elect their leaders to a committee that settles matters through majority vote. It’s all very dryad, and I’m curious to see the place Etusca talked about so much over the years as well as to meet the brother she’s only mentioned in passing.
We’re talking about finding a place to stop and break our fast when we reach one of the most beautiful spots I’ve ever seen. The forest suddenly opens up around us to reveal a dozen large pools of fresh water. Their still surfaces glint in the newly risen sun, its beams filtering through the tree cover to dance across the water.
“Thank the gods,” Alastor sighs, dismounting and dropping his pack to the ground. “I’ve been desperate for a chance to wash for three days.”
He starts to shuck off his boots, then stops, eyeing Etusca. “Is it safe? The water isn’t going to suddenly start drowning me for sullying it or something?”
Etusca raises an eyebrow. “I’ve never heard of something like that happening.”
I can tell that it’s not the complete reassurance he was looking for, but the trees are quiet. I look to our korigos friend.
“What do you think, Dots? Is this a good place to stop and relax?” His tongue lolls, and he drops down onto the mossy ground, curling up in a patch of sunlight.
“That’s good enough for me,” Alastor says and walks down to the water’s edge.
We eat and watch Alastor wash his shirt and cool his feet in the pool without incident. Inspired by his bravery, some of the others use the opportunity to freshen up too. Then, when Tira yawns, Phaia suggests we take this moment of peace to try to get some sleep.
With the trees still and Dots happy, our exhausted group easily agree, and most of us settle down to nap. I close my eyes, letting the warm sunshine and gentle breeze carry me off to sleep.
But soon I find myself trapped in a place far from the pretty pools of the Miravow.
Blades slice into my flesh, setting my nerves on fire. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t in pain, when my body felt anything other than this agony.
A scream rips through my ears, and I look over to see Kit convulsing on the white marble floor. Blood pours from his nose. From his eyes. I can’t look away, unable to move as he begs me to save him.
Then I’m standing over him, plunging a bloody knife into his chest over and over again. I want to stop, but I can’t, and then when I look into his face, I suddenly see it’s not Kit lying there, but Tira, her eyes empty and lifeless.
I open my mouth to scream, but I’m startled by a set of strong arms wrapping around me.
“Shhh, Ana. It’s just a dream…”
By now, Leon is quick to make the nightmares fade, pulling me from the horrific images into a cool, neutral darkness. It’s not enough to settle me though, and I’m not able to fall back into a peaceful sleep. Instead, my mind claws its way back to consciousness until I’m staring up at the sun shining through the leaves above me.
I rise, wanting to shake the dream off, only to hear Leon’s breathing change behind me as he too wakes.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I murmur, trying not to rouse the others around us. Phaia’s on watch now, but she’s seated with her back against a tree a few yards away and pays us no mind.
“Don’t worry about it,” he replies. “I can fix nightmares in my sleep.” He offers me a wry smile. “And then when I sensed you’d woken up, of course I was going to come find you.”
“I wish I was like you,” I say, clenching my fist and letting out a shaky breath. Even with Leon’s help, the panic of the dream still lingers in my body. “I wish I was able to go to sleep and wake myself up whenever I choose, getting to pick what plays through my head—what memories I want to relive, or never visit again.”
“It’s not the panacea you might think. It just means the unwanted memories come for me harder when I’m awake,” he says.
I guess that’s the trade-off I get. I’m working so hard to keep from remembering those days in Qimorna, to shield my mind when I can, that of course the horror of it comes for me when I’m asleep and vulnerable. But I can’t change what I’m doing. Not when I have the Temple and the throne to worry about, and maybe even a war. If I let it all in, I don’t know if I’d survive.
Leon rises too, reaching out and brushing a hand along the small of my back.
“It will get better, Ana. I know that feels empty to say right now. But thosedreams won’t haunt you forever. And until they leave you alone, I’ll be there to rescue you from them.”
I know he’s trying to help, but the nightmare is still too fresh for me to feel reassured, and I find myself turning away from him, unable to really hear his words.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say, and it’s true. I can’t even say the reality of what happened out loud to my best friend. I can’t bring myself to tell Tira that it was me who killed Kit.
Looking to escape my own thoughts, I wander down to the pools, skirting the edges of them as my reflection warps and ripples. I can sense Leon following slowly behind even though he makes almost no noise. He’s doing what he always does. Keeping watch. Making sure I’m safe. But he can’t protect me from myself.
I’m managing to go through the motions each day. I’m giving orders and making plans, sending friends on missions as if I really believe we can build a better future. But there seem to be a million tiny triggers—whether I’m asleep or awake—that send me right back to my lowest points, reminding me of my weakness.
“You don’t know how terrible it was last night,” I say to Leon, still looking out over the water. “Watching Tira being taken from me, knowing there was nothing I could do to stop it without my powers.”
