Page 8 of Claimed By Stone
The dreams had started weeks ago. It had become hard to focus on anything else. It was her, always her. Her eyes. Her voice. Her fingers were trailing across words I hadn’t been able to decipher in decades. But this time… this onefeltdifferent, like it was real.
I dragged a hand over my face, trying to rub the sleep from my eyes and the ache from my chest. My limbs felt heavy, like I’d been dropped back into my body from somewhere far away. My tongue was thick, my mouth dry.
I turned toward the statue.
There she was. Just as she always was. Stone-still. Eyes downcast. Hair swept back from her brow like the wind hadcaught it mid-motion. Her hands open like she was about to reach for something—someone.
My heart kicked once, hard.
I’d dreamed of her lips moving, of her gentle touch and careful gaze. I’d dreamed of her smile.
“Just a dream,” I muttered to myself. I sat up slowly, joints cracking, breath coming easier as reality settled into my bones. “Just another godsdamned dream.”
Yet as I stood and glanced down at the scrolls before me, I froze.
There was a scroll unrolled across the table, held in place by my ink jar and an old carving tool. My notes were where I’d left them—half-scribbled thoughts, broken sentences, dead ends. But beneath them…
There were words.
They were mine, but not really.
The scroll was in the graceful flowing script of Godling, a language known only to their direct descendants. I’d looked at these scrolls my whole life without an ounce of understanding. Their meaning was lost to me because I could not read Godling.
My breath caught.
My fingers trembled as I reached for the parchment. The translation. There, beneath the lines of Godling, the translation was in my handwriting, but I still had no understanding of the language. How was that possible?
I looked at the statue again. My pulse was in my head now, hammering.
“She was here,” I whispered.
The door to the war room opened as Ulgar stepped in.
“Sir, I have a message from your brother. He and his mate are preparing to emerge from the mating cave. They will join us tomorrow. They have also asked that a great Yule Feast be held in the hall to celebrate their mating and the return of the magic.”
I straightened. "Khuldruk and Callie will emerge tomorrow?"
"Yes. And Yule is in about a week’s time. Shall I tell the kitchen?”
“No, I will talk to them and start the preparations.”
Ulgar dipped his head in a nod.
"Thank you. You may go."
I sank into my chair, my eyes drifting back to the statue before me. While I was glad for my brother's emergence, the timing could have been a little better.
Frema was away on a training mission. I still had no idea how the old magic was returning... and now there was this statue.
My gaze drank her in again. The expression of wonder carved across her face. The delicate rise of her finger. Her form was still stone, and yet… I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was watching me, too.
I’d thought I was losing my mind. Maybe I still was. But there it sat on my desk?—
A scroll written in Godling, perfectly transcribed in my hand.
I had no explanation for it.
And Gods help me; I wasn’t sure I wanted one.
