Chapter 27
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
Nya dreamt of a little girl. She knew she was dreaming, because the child kept reminding her, insisting in a raspy voice that she was aware this was not real.
“Yes, I know,” she assured the girl for the third time.
Finally, the girl relaxed. She smiled and her eyes twinkled. “Good. What is my name, Nya?”
Nya paused. For the first time since the dream had begun, she noticed the child’s appearance: brown eyes speckled with amber, fawn-hued skin, and brick-colored hair, the strands framing her face shining bright silver. She was very small, perhaps only five or six years old.
“Who are you?” Nya whispered. Her voice echoed in the empty space around them.
The girl blinked, and shadows stirred in her irises. “You promised you would not forget.” She reached for Nya but did not touch her. “What is my name?”
Suddenly, Nya did not have to think about her response. “Ithesoa.”
The little girl sighed contentedly and took a step back. “I had to make sure you remembered. Thank you, Nya.”
Nya reached for the girl, but when she stretched out her fingers, they only brushed against a familiar, empty void.