MORSSORSTERRA, The Birth Of The Savior

04|A STRANGE DREAM

When she slept last night, Zahara had the strangest dream in her entire life. She was standing in an unknown room. A flash of light glowed through the open window. The half moon lightened the dark room, showing the dark brown walls, rows, and rows of book shelves.

She looked around the medium-sized room, taking in the view of her surroundings as much as possible. Her foot was bar,  and she was wearing the pink night gown she wore before going to bed earlier. The floor below her was a dark brown hard wooden floor. As she inspected the room carefully, she was sure it was a library or someone's office.

Suddenly, movements rustled behind her, followed by a familiar voice. She turned to find a brown desk and a chair perched on the wall beside the window. A hazy figure was sitting on the chair. The light reflected by the moon wasn't bright enough to make out the facial features of the anonymous man.

"She isn't just any Neogapulla. She's the saviour," a voice spoke, and Zahara tore her gaze from the hazy figure and stared straight at the woman whose voice sounded so familiar and creepy. The woman was wearing a turquoise green sleeveless gown. Her hair was assembled into a neatly tight bun, displaying her stunning features.

Zahara's eyes widened as she locked gazes with Elektra. She rapidly staggered behind the bookshelf, trying to hide her presence, but was astonished when Elektra failed to acknowledge her presence.

She swiftly came out of her hiding place and waited for Elektra to look at her. She knew the witch would accuse her of being sneaky and spying into her private life. But what she didn't know is that Zahara herself doesn't seem to figure out how she got here or what this place is. And to her utter surprise, the witch didn't seem to notice her. So she stayed quiet, not daring to move as she listened to their conversion.

"Oh I know that, Elektra and I want that small bitch dead," the man spoke menacingly, his voice sounded evil which made Zahara felt an uneasy, yet fearful sensation crawling her stomach. Who is he planning to kill? She asked no one in particular. She became nervous. She felt like turning on her heels and running without ever turning back.

"No Alfred. You aren't allowed to touch a single hair on her body not until we get her sacred treasure in our grasp. That spoiled brat also gets on my very last nerve. But we must hold on for now," Elektra muttered, malice creeping her voice. She held a shiny heptagonal pebble between her thumb and forefinger, raising it into the air.

Zahara admired the heptagonal pebble shinning in the room. A flash of blinding purple light illuminated the entire room. She tottered back from the gleaming radiant light, covering her eyes with her right palm. But she felt a sense of familiarity. A sense of recognition. Like that purple heptagonal radiant looking and soft pebble__ though she wondered how she knew the pebble was soft __ but it felt like it belonged to her. She felt like it was a part of her. And this time, an overprotective feeling was beginning to creep into her heart.

Elektra released the pebble. But instead of falling back to the ground, it stayed still in the air__like the ground had lost it gravity. Zahara parted her lips with amazement as she watched the beaming purple light in the room and the strikingly beautiful pebble. And then this feeling of awareness hit her hard. She felt it belonged to her.