War of Faeries

Chapter 4

                                                     Chapter Four

Before I went to bed, I heard my mother packing up the wagon. Thinking she was as sneaky as ever. I let her go, what's the point of stopping her? She has clearly made up her mind. Besides if I were going to stop her, I would have stopped her when I was downstairs. When I can no longer hear the wagon leaving this cursed place, the patter of faint rain lulls me to sleep.

I awoke with a start, and a pounding in my head again. And again, I can't stop playing the strange dream in my head. My mother was taking me away. Away from elaborate walls, and grand paintings. The painting depicted a story of a princess, and they were so detailed you felt like you were the one trapped inside of them. You could feel the heat of the dragon's breath, and the thorns wrapping around your ankles hindering you every move.

Then my view changed I was no longer looking at the paintings I was watching my mother summon plants from the tiles beneath us, hindering my view of the people chasing us, and ultimately choking and crushing them to death. Their bodies lying lifeless on the floor beneath the plants the only evidence they were there.

Eventually more people came and replaced the dead ones, this time they were hacking down the plants designed to kill them with swords. Every time they cleared an area more grew in the space. Each time they thought they made a hedge way; something blocked their path. While they were fighting an unbeatable war, we were getting farther and farther away. It wasn't until one of the people chasing us called out did, we stop.

"You'll never get away with this Mable." My mother turned around so slowly I thought I imagined it. The icy stare she gave the person that spoke scared me to my bones, and if her look could have killed the man he would have dropped dead.

"Oh, I will, because no one will ever hear you say my name." the thorns crawled up his neck like a snake and choked him. His blood dripped down the vines, and as the others started to run away in fear they were met with the same fate.

As suddenly as they appeared, they disappeared, leaving a trail of dead bodies behind. My view once again changed, but I was greeted with the story of the paintings, until they slowly disappeared as well. Not because someone took them away, but because the story simply came to an end. Then the door stopped us. It seemed to come out of nowhere, but I know that it had to be there the whole time. The door was as grand as the walls once were and seemed to be as old as time itself. There was no way this door would hold when we opened it. Surprisingly though it held as she pushed it open. My mother seemed to hesitate once we arrived to where she wanted to be. It was the shouts that pushed her to action and the sound of feet slapping the floor behind us. More people were coming, and they were almost upon us. As the shouting grew louder and louder, along with the footsteps my mother walked into the cool night air. When I looked back to where the door was, I saw it was gone. It vanished in thin air.

The room around me looked plain and ordinary compared to the detail in my dream. I push myself out of bed, even though I couldn't have slept for more than a few hours. The floor beneath my feet is cold and makes me regret climbing out of my warm bed. I make my way downstairs for no particular reason at all, it's just where my feet wandered. Besides where else am I going to go in this tower? Once I reach my now empty art studio, I start moving the empty racks. Trying to return my studio to the way it was before, but even I know that will take me a while. I had to completely rearrange the way things were. Everything was out of place, but it was because everything was out of place that I found the note that my mother left for me. Well it more like fell to my feet, either way I still found it. I almost didn't bother reading whatever she thought was worth writing, but a last second decision made me open it.