Volume I: Forged

Chapter 23: Second Comes the Moon, Twinkling like a Diamond

"No," Dream said for the hundredth time, rolling his eyes as Drista yanked on him yet again. He barely moved, but Drista didn't seem to be deterred.

Drista, barely seven at this point, pouted and stuck her tongue out. "I want to see the ponies!"

"The ponies will kick your skull in," Dream explained, again, and tried to pick his sister up, but she dodged away on nimble feet.

"No they won't! They love me!"

"They love the carrots you bring," Dream deadpanned, catching her hand in a tighter grip and looking back to the crowd, wondering where his folks were.

The local fair was going on full blast, and Dream's family took the full advantage of the opportunity to get out of the house and get hyped up on cotton candy, chorus fruit, and deep-fried everything.

It was getting late though, and Dream had been wearing his mask too long—a dull headache pounded behind his ears. The buckle was too tight, but the original strap had broken that morning and the backup wasn't fitted properly.

"Ponies!!"

Dream sighed deeply. "How bout we go find Mum and Dadza and see if they'll let us get some funnel cakes?"

Drista's face pulled into a scowl. "No! I want to feed Patches!"

Dream made no mention to the fact Drista had named her favorite pony after his cat—his forehead felt all hot, like his brain was being cooked.

"Drista Marie, no," Dream said firmly, tiredly. "I don't want to see the ponies. Let's go find Mum."

Drista's face screwed up and Dream inwardly yelled at himself, seconds before Drista yelled herself.

She shrieked, one of her tantrum specials. Dream instinctively slapped his hands over his ears to stop the offending screech from piercing his very soul—and immediately realized his mistake.

Drista shot off through the crowd, her neon green hoodie a streak among the fair-goers.

Dream took off after her, swallowed down the throw-up when his head protested and several alarms went off in his head.

Dream cursed every Ancient he could name as he shoved people out of the way, yelling apologies as he struggled to keep his little sister in view. She made it the horses' pen before he did, and Dream felt his heart freeze a little at their reaction to the child running full-bore at the fence. She hesitated long enough to slip through the fence and charge at the horses.

There was one single moment where the world froze for Dream. He saw the horses, all bunched together as far away from the crowd as possible, and it was then the realization hit him like a lightning bolt out of a blue sky.

In her haste, Drista had ran straight into the wild horses exhibit.

The world restarted, and Dream nearly tripped over his own feet. He vaulted over the fence just as Drista got close enough, the horses chuffing and bunching away from her. He saw the stallion, eyes wide and scared of the little human, snort a long warning bellow and paw the dirt.

Drista—sweet, innocent Drista—giggled and ran at him, arms open wide.

The horse pawed, then reared, hooves pounding into the ground. He went up on his back legs again—ready to bring them down on Drista's skull.

Drista finally, finally, realized what was happening—she froze, arms stiff and knees locking as the she stared up at would be her inevitable death.

Dream jumped, arms closing around her, and he shoved the both of them as hard as he could.

He felt the earth shake as the horse came down, but he was already moving, dragging his dead-weight sister. He made it the fence in record time, shoved Drista through the bottom and jumped over the top.