The Soul of a Dragon

Chapter 31

Vara

The soft sunlight tickles my nose and I scrunch it to ease the itchy feeling, but it won't relent. I groan in protest und give in by rubbing my nose as well as my eyes – my entire face, actually. I need to wake up. With more persuasion needed than should be normal, I manage to lift my upper body, turn, and swing my legs to the side of the bed. As my eyes slowly adjust, I soak in the warm atmosphere of my room. The white cotton sheets of my bed, the soft fabric of the midnight-purple carpet welcoming my tired feet, the elegantly swung window next to the spacious wooden dresser, the dark oak floor (which has seen some better days but the numerous scars in the wood's surface make it more charming), the delicate metal frame reflecting the bright daylight and protecting a very realistic painting of a dark-grey Stormcutter' head tilted to the side like a curious puppy. I take a deep breath and let my eyes roam further around my room – still drowsy and half asleep.

With a large crack of my spine, I stretch my arms to the ceiling. A comfortable shiver runs down my skin at the sensation of it.

"Okay, girl," I whisper because my voice is still raspy from...something my sleepy head won't allow me to remember, "Let's go. C'mon."

My eyes are still closed and after what feels like hours, I realise I almost fell asleep because there's no response. Utter silence.

Weird.

My eyes flutter open and I blink (hard) against the sunlight.

"Aria?"

Nothing.

Panic hits me like a thousand slaps across my cheek. I am awake, instantly.

"ARIA!"

Suddenly, darkness creeps in. Everything is spiralling. Shadows emerge from the corners of my room – they crawl and twist like insects. In their path, everything is sucked up into absolute blackness. The bed – gone. The carpet, window, dresser, and painting - gone. Nothing is left and the sunlight is drained until the shadows encircle me like a caged animal.

This can't be real. Where is she?

My heart is pounding, my breath hitching. What's happening?

I see no other option than to scream from the depths of my lungs, "ARIA!"

A sudden loud thud scares me awake. I am still screaming as I shoot into an upright sitting position – the bed I'm lying on protesting against the movement. I can feel my heart banging against my chest and cold sweat is trickling down my forehead. I gasp for air because it felt like I was falling down an endless spiral of darkness, with no solid ground in sight.

My surroundings are dark, suffocating. The sparce moonlight is allowing me to make out the rough shapes of my bed, dresser, and door. There's no warmth. There's no Aria.

I flinch at the sound of a quiet but firm knock. I try to answer but it takes a few tries to find my voice again. I succeed in saying, "Come in," but it still sounds as though I've run a hundred miles whilst yelling and screeching the entire time.

It's still too dark to see properly but I notice the silhouette of a man enter the room cautiously and slowly. "You screamed again. I just wanted to make sure y-you're alright and, you know, didn't get up and run against the wall like a dreaming dog." There's a slight chuckle hidden in between those words. And in the time I've known him, I learnt he does that to mask his true worried and caring nature. Well, at least, that's what I thought to know about Malcom. But ever since...everything, I don't know who he is anymore.

"I'm fine," I answer dryly but choose to add, "Thanks."

He comes closer and stops a few feet away from my bed. The faint moonlight is framing his sharp features like a night-time halo. A pair of concerned dark eyes is catching my gaze.