The Sea of Dreams

Chapter 1: The Veil

Nightmares cluttered with blood-stained rubble tore me from any shred of rest I could have accomplished that Afterdark. Tears tumbled down my face. I stared at my trembling hands. A thin film of moonlight rested in my open palms. My fingers folded over it. In my dream, blood tinted blue, gold, and silver, had oozed from my gashed palm and dripped from my fingers. In the folds of the darkness swallowing my room, all I saw was my white skin and the faint gray squiggles that were my veins. Like pure marble, my hand glowed white. No dripping blood. Just me.

The wood of the hallway connecting my bedroom with the rest of the one-story house was cold, like the tongue of a dead wolf. The house felt like an empty box. The late hours of Afterdark bled into the stardust hours of the night.

Noises in the kitchen to my right startled me. My fists clenched. I whipped around, looking for a weapon. I considered the framed painting on the wall behind me. No, Mueyie would kill me if I smashed somebody's head with it. My hands stretched wide. Shadows gurgled at my fingertips, thick and bubbling like sea foam.

The floorboard creaked.

A broad-shouldered man turned around, moving with the weight of an ancient tree.

"Tayyie?" I called.

My father took a deep breath. A hint of a smile tugged at his eyes, almost overpowering the deep creases in the corners.

"Aren't you awake early," he said. He stretched out his hand.

My heart jumped inside me. I hadn't seen Tayyie in one-fourth of a moon cycle. My hand met his at once. The shadows withdrew. There was no need for them when my father was home.

"Nightmares," I mumbled. I glanced at the draw-string bag resting on the table. "What are you eating at this hour?"

Tayyie made a large flourish of his hand, the one not holding mine. He smiled and it forced the last remnants of my nightmares out of my system. Poof. All I felt was the coolness of his hand. The perfect shape of my father filled the gaping hole in my life. The dull knives of his absence vanished. Only a numbed sensation remained.

"Ah! You see, my princess, this Afterdark we are to delight in fine dining!" he declared.

I matched his smile. "What are we making today?" I asked. Memories of fried fish head stew and broken rice rushed back to my tongue. My parents and I were once artists in the kitchen. Perhaps the muse that had once evaporated into vanishing steam had returned.

"We're not," Tayyie said.

My smile faltered. "What do you mean?"

"Nightmares are best chased away with something sweet," he said, placing a wooden bowl on the table. A couple of grayish-blue fruits tumbled into the bowl. I recognized them. It was dried persimmon, chewy in texture and sweet in taste.

My chest deflated. Only a bit. I loved dried persimmon. Tayyie and I sat at the table and picked one each. I peered at him as I chewed, somewhat expecting him to vanish again. I saw closed doors and departing feet, felt the glass pressed against my face watching him leave a--

"Scarlet? Are you listening?"

I blinked. "Hmm?"

Tayyie smiled a little. "Be careful to not get lost in your thoughts, in that complex maze of your mind. Sometimes the worst monster is the one we carry inside."

I frowned. My worst monster was his absence. Not my thoughts. "Tayyie, will you be at the festival? Today?"

Tayyie didn't look at me. He was preoccupied with the dried persimmon in his hand. I plopped another piece into my mouth. His silence turned the dried persimmon on my tongue sour and bitter, a cage of rotten fruit.