Chapter 15
The Nightmare
“You’re allowed to have a summer fling, Alianna,” Natasha mused, sipping coffee while she absent-mindedly stroked Shadow, who was curled up next to her. “Lots of people do.”
“I know. I just – I barely know Max. I don’t know where he is actually from; he hasn’t specified at least. He’s told me about his home and his hobbies, I know he’s in a management position at work…”
“Then who cares? As long as he isn’t married and doesn’t have a family waiting for him wherever he is from, knock yourself out. You’re allowed fun without committing to anything else.”
“We haven’t talked about having a family. He would have told me if he had one, wouldn’t he?”
Natasha sat forward. “I’d like to think that anyone who has a family back home, or a marital partner waiting for them, wouldn’t be going for evening strolls on the beach, in the park, or taking you to dinner. But there are some scum bags around. Put the feelers out next time you see him.”
“How do I even reach out to him after last night? We left things…unfinished. In the middle of things. Wouldn’t reaching out now be awkward?”
“No more awkward than offering to get undressed for the guy and then never speaking to him again. Who knows how long he’s in town for, Ali? Go for it.”
Alianna crossed her legs in front of her, sitting back and thinking. Be the girl in the red dress.
The morning air breezed in through the window. The evening had been wonderful, Alianna wouldn’t deny it. She also wouldn’t deny that if they hadn’t been interrupted, then she would have taken things further with Max.
She picked up her phone, checking the time. 09.02am. Cautious of looking desperate, she decided she would message him later on today. She would find a way to ask about his home life, and then maybe they would get back to whatever they started in his suite last night.
***************
Rionan was in a hellscape of flashes through the night sky. He saw the bodies of his friends beneath his feet as he strode over them, looking for something. Something that he could not place.
The trees around him were withering and dying faster than he knew should be possible.
The flowers he looked on so fondly on the perimeters of his grounds were brown and droopy.
The grass beneath his feet was gone, replaced by dirt and ash.
His vision raced through his decaying lands, on, on, until he reached a familiar stone courtyard. Within the courtyard sat the Well. The air had been cold. So cold, and so still. Yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had been watching him over his shoulder.
He stepped forward, peering into the Well. He was met with a vast, reaching darkness. It seemed to be empty and full of hatred, all at once. As he looked down, he felt tendrils of whatever lay in wait there reaching for him, trying to pull him down.
You left us.
You killed us.
You gave up on us.
“No,” he said, shaking his head, backing away from the Well. His skin buzzed, and he fought the urge to release his magic, to fill the Well and return life to the space around him.
You murdered us.
You drained us.
You ended us.
He now realised the voices he heard were one and many. He heard the strange, ethereal voice of his power, which he had become used to in the last few days. He also heard the voice of Ulreah, husky and full of sorrow. He heard the voice of Thallax, hollow and lifeless.
This is your fault.
This is your fault.
This is your fault.
This is your fault.
This is your fault.
The words came at him thick and fast, familiar voices, voices of his friends from the West, voices of his staff, voices of women, children, men, all blaming him for what had happened here.
“No,” Rionan said, stepping back from the Well. The darkness still reached for him, trying to wrap itself around him, to pull him closer. “It’s not. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
The darkness gripped his wrist, straining to pull him closer to the Well.
Come home.
“No,” he fought. “Not yet. If I do – if he takes over the land. I need to find a way to stop this.”
Come. Home.
He pulled back against the darkness, but it was too strong.
COME. HOME.
COME. HOME.
COME. HOME.
COME. HOME.
It was no use. Rionan tumbled into the Well, his power erupting out of him in a wash of blinding colour, as his eyes snapped open.
Rionan awoke with a start, his body covered in sweat. The wooden bedposts had splintered and fractured. The flowers, which had been on a bedside cabinet, were withered like they had died long ago. The curtains, which had been pulled across the windows, now drooped, shredded, and only half hung.
The room was a disarray of broken furniture, torn fabric, and chaos.
He sat up, his breathing heavy. He skimmed his tongue over his teeth and felt the sharp points of his elongated canines. He lifted his hands up to his face to see the familiar, silvery hue of his Xanthian skin.
Rionan looked to the flowers now dead and scattered on the table next to him, reaching towards them with his finger and willing them to life.
Slowly, the brown leaves turned green. The stems lifted until they were once again upright.
The petals of the flowers refilled with colour as they lifted, as if reaching for the sunlight, filling the room with scent.
He hadn’t gone back to Xanthia. The dream was not real. Ulreah and Thallax – they might still be ok.
His power rumbled inside him like a storm, as if making a point that the dream may not have been real now, but he needed to return to Xanthia. He was not meant for the human realm. Certainly not for this length of time. Because the West of Xanthia could not exist without a Lord.
“I know. I know.” He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands as he sat up. Rionan reached for the telephone next to him to buzz for housekeeping, only to find that it had been smashed into pieces.
Rionan searched the sheets for his own mobile phone, which had, somehow, not been broken by the force of his power. There was a lightning shaped crack in the screen, but it functioned. The time read 13:23pm.
He’d been asleep for half the day.
“Fuck,” he whispered, getting to his feet and searching for some clothes. Finding the least ruined items he could, he shifted into his human form and made his way to the hotel reception.
Rionan sat on a bench near West Beach. He had been to the hotel reception, where he had spoken with three members of staff.
Using his power to encourage discretion, he asked that housekeeping see to his room.
Another member of staff gifted him new clothing, “On behalf of The Rinniel, to apologise for your poor night’s sleep.
We expect better, for our suite guests.”
He was assured that his room would be fit for use by the evening and that they would personally oversee that this was taken care of.
“Thank you.” Rionan had smiled.
“There will, of course, be a charge for the damage, sir. From what you have described…”
“I will pay handsomely in ironmarks to cover the damage to the suite and furnishings, but also for your cooperation with this matter. You can add this to my tab.” He reassured, holding eye contact as he spoke.
Their faces slackened for a brief moment, and as if in unison, the staff smiled and nodded before hurrying off to rectify whatever he had done that night.
Now Rionan looked out to the sea, trying to establish his next course of action. Time was running out, and his dream last night made that quite clear. As he drummed his fingers against his knee, he felt a vibration coming from his pocket.
Alianna
16:37: ok, i am caving and sending you a message first. i had a nice time last night. i thought i would have heard from you
Rionan
16:38: I am deeply sorry. Something came up that required my urgent attention today. I enjoyed our evening together, very much.
He watched as the ‘…’ icon on the screen appeared and disappeared several times before it stopped completely.