6. Astraea
Chapter six
Astraea
I’ve never seen snow. I’ve heard of its chill, the otherworldly brightness it floods your eyes with, but it’s only ever been just that.
A story. A picture encapsulated to tell a tale.
Flakes of white fall from the sky all around me.
Floating on the air like tiny clouds drifting to the ground.
I look down at my feet. Bewilderment grows as they move through the powder-like texture on the ground.
At first, that’s what I think it is, but the further I walk, the less the haze clouds my vision.
Something is off—the air is too thick. The temperature is too warm.
Not snow, but ash.
Sweat builds on my scrunched brow in beads.
Rivulets of moisture glide down my exposed arms. They glisten in the pale light of the moon.
I look down, watching as a droplet falls from my nose.
The scent of salt and ash crashes into me at the same moment.
Every breath I pull into my lungs burns.
My pulse continues to rise the clearer the scene before me becomes.
My eyes widen impossibly, even as I try blinking the sting away.
I snap my eyes shut to dispel the dryness, and when I open them again, I feel the familiar squeeze of arms being wrapped around me.
I’m being lifted and swept away on a strong gust of wind before I land firmly against something hard.
The moon illuminates arms swathed in dark fabric that billows out behind us like a flag in the wind; they are lassoed around my middle in an unforgiving hold.
I feel so small.
So undeniably weak.
My black hair falls across my face like a veil of shadow.
It obscures my view of the world and everything that surrounds me.
The scene before me is passing far too quickly for me to comprehend.
Then I hear the scream. It’s a violent howl—raw, pain-filled, and louder than any time I’ve heard it before.
The blazing heat engulfs me with my rising panic.
There is a horse whinnying close by, urged into a frenzy likely by the scream that follows me.
I clench my eyes tight once again, as though doing so will stop the wailing that pierces the night.
Darkness surrounds me, just like the many nightmares I've been plagued with. I blink hard. Keeping my eyes shut longer than is necessary. Fear presses in on me as the moon does nothing but cast everything in even more shadow.
I’m being shaken. My body jostled by a steady beat.
I force myself to rip my eyes open again.
I need to see more of this. I feel everything so much more than I ever have before.
It feels real. I’m being held in a saddle, merely a girl, not yet grown.
Every gallop of the horses' hooves vibrates through my tiny body. Everything is black. Everything but the pillowy ash that plumes with every steady hoofbeat that threatens to choke me with every breath I pull into my lungs. Everything but the white trees, sharp and jagged, reaching for the sky like long claws. I turn my head trying to get a glimpse of who is holding me, but I can’t see into the shadows of the hood.
The sound of the horrific scream continues and causes a vibration to form in the center of my chest. The person who holds me seems to have arms made of shadow, wrapping me in a vise-like grip, but my little body… it burns.
The heat is too much.
The white jagged trees flash in the corner of my vision again as the horse rides at a rapid pace.
Everything is blurring into a sea of white, just as it always does before the shadows expel any semblance of light.
I shake my head, trying to keep my vision, unlike any time before.
I need to know where this dream leads or what it could mean.
I hear the word that has been hissed in my nightmares again, but this time it comes from closer.
The word caresses my ear with a whisper of breath that brushes through my hair.
“Seeeeennnnkaaaaa,” My eyes grow heavy. My head tips back again as I try to get a glimpse of who holds me.
“Sleep now, Princess.” A voice speaks lightly, familiar somehow, but I can’t place it.
The voice echoes, but it feels closer than ever.
My eyes blink rapidly as I fight the pull to surrender to the darkness dancing around the edges of my vision.
The person holding me whips around, glancing behind us as though we are being chased.
Their grip on me becomes even more fierce.
The same menacing laugh that has continuously followed me into the shadows of my nightmares echoes in the distance, but not before the entity who presses their body to mine looks down.
There in that brief moment, I see the flash of an enigmatic gaze that is undoubtedly familiar.
Then, everything is black.
The umbra fades. The color dissipates from black, turning to deep midnight, then to a swirling spill of indigo as twinkling stars slowly begin coming into view. I'm laying down; the ground presses against my back, and sand cradles my head before I groggily urge myself to sit up.
My head swims, but still, I try to focus on what surrounds me.
Emotion at what I finally see clogs my throat, threatening to choke me.
My attempts at pulling precious air into my lungs are futile.
Each breath is too shallow and evades my lungs entirely as a strangled sob tries to rip from my throat.
I scramble backward. Sand shifting under my hands and feet makes the action feel too slow.
Tears sting as they roll down my chapped cheeks and the bitter taste of iron coats my tongue.
No. It’s not real. It can't be real.
Blood.
A sea of dark blood runs toward me. Reaching out like a growing tide.
The scent of it wafts through the air, there’s no escaping it.
Still, I shuffle back again, out of its grasp, and suck in a sharp breath when I am pulled up from behind.
The scent of copper is like an attack on my senses, but as I spin around to be met once again with darkness, the bite of smoky fire and sweetness of honey hits me.
The darkness I see now, though, is not like the black nothingness I had just come from.
No, it stares back at me, impossible to ignore.
An absence of light, the kind of dark that holds secrets but also warmth that draws you closer like a flame.
My lip trembles as I grip his forearms. His stare is steady and unblinking as he holds onto me tight. The blood is like a rising sea tapping at the back of my heels, warm and thick. I cling to him harder, feeling as though his arms are the only thing that will keep me safe.
“Kyros?” His name a question, a plea on my lips.
A tear rolls down my cheek, and he swipes it away with a brush of his thumb.
His other hand wraps around me, pulling me close.
The warmth of his body is grounding. His arms are a quiet force of protection.
The scene around me fades. The night sky losing its stars, one by one.
Kyros says nothing as he lifts my chin, slowly bringing my face to his.
Shadows and secrets swirl around us both; his agonized expression hurts to see, but I know it's a reflection of my own.
Painstakingly slow, he bends down and brushes his lips over mine.
The feeling is so faint it steals my breath.
My eyes flutter closed, and at once I am safe.