Magic and Other Ways to Incite Rebellion

Chapter 4

Daniella went to bed that night with too many questions running through her mind. She couldn't go to sleep because her brain was doing laps trying to comprehend and evaluate everything- and actually everything. She was thinking of problems and incidents that now only existed in memory: stupid things, disturbing things, scary things, math, even- not to mention the strange day's events.

She could not get comfortable in bed. Either it was hot or very, very hot. Sweat slicked down her back and forehead. She would get an itch there, a tickle there, and she felt like there was a presence in the shadows, watching her. No position was comfortable.

Eventually she fell asleep due to pure exhaustion- belly down, hips tangled in the sheets, and legs splayed out.

*~*~*

Daniella opened her eyes to a room she'd never seen. The image seemed static-filled. Usually Daniella's dreams were crystal clear. She was lying on top of a wooden bed, made up with a scruffy but comfortable quilt and baby blue pillows that didn't match the blankets. The room was large, but still cozy and filled in. It smelled like pine needles and moist earth. The walls were made of a dark wood, as if she were in a log cabin. Actually, it was a cabin, dirt floor and all. The wall to her left was lined with bookshelves that almost reached the low ceiling, and atop those sat foreign plants and herbs. A ceiling fan spun around lazily, enough to keep the air moving but not enough to make her shiver. Daniella sat up. To her right, a maroon curtain- covered window braved the wall alone. It was night. The wall across from her had a door tucked in the right corner, and a crackling fireplace lit the room with a warm glow. To the left of the fire place, a man sat at a desk facing the wall. Daniella was startled at how she didn't notice him before. He seemed to be reading a thick, leather-bound book, with yellowed pages, by the light of- was that a floating ball of light? He was about Daniella's age.

This dream was weird. It was almost as if her brain was downloading it from some outside source. Loading... Loading... Loading... The man started moving, but in choppy movements. Move, pause, move, pause. Now that he had moved a bit more, she realized he was heading for the bookshelves with a book in hand. As he had left the desk, Daniella decided to examine the desk's contents.

She stood. Her movement was choppy, too, although the dream quality was becoming more and more clear. She felt like she was walking through jelly, or honey, or some other thick fluid as she attempted to get a better look.

The desk was scattered with maps, keys, a globe, jars filled with odd things she couldn't describe, and another thick book, a journal. She left the drawers alone, attention drawn once again to the mysterious man.

The man was at the bookshelf now, replacing a red leather book with a brown one with a lock and buckle. Curious, Daniella shuffled forwards in that slow, choppy way. She waited for him to turn around so she could introduce herself and ask where she was, but he walked right past her. She hadn't gotten a good look at his face until then, but his eyes were a bright shade of sapphire. He had a strong jawline covered in a little scruff, and black shaggy hair. His head towered over hers. On his broad shoulders hung a baggy thin shirt, and brown pants were kept up by a black leather belt that had multiple pouches attached. But hadn't he seen her?

He set the book down at the desk and started over to the window, choppily, of course. Daniella was, by now, sick of the pauses. She concentrated really hard, furrowing her brows. Everything paused for a moment and the tension in the air built and then popped, like descending on an airplane, and finally the dream started to flow. His strides were smooth, and moving about was easier now.

Following him to the window, she called out. "Hello?"

He seemed to not hear her. He brushed the curtains aside, flooding the cabin with moonlight.

"Hello?" she tried again. She got no response. Oh well, she thought, maybe it's part of the dream.

He looked out through the glass, and Daniella couldn't help but follow his gaze to the breath taking view.

A village of cabins surrounded the one she was in. Fire light cast a glow about the cozy shacks, and just beyond the boundary was a lake. Snow-capped mountains circled the valley in the distance, guarding, reaching up to touch the many stars that swirled around the full moon in the night sky. Despite the late hour, many men, women, and teens were wandering to and fro, not quite done with their day. The little children were probably sleeping, for there were none in sight.

This village was so quaint and perfect, not like life in The Order, where they had almost achieved world domination now. Sometimes, the goals of The Order sounded like something in children's cartoons, with evil villains twisting their mustaches. There were parts in Europe said to be free still. But what did it matter to Daniella anyways?

While lost in her musings, Daniella hadn't noticed a cloaked figure approaching the cabin. The man, still nameless, must have been waiting for this person.

The door creaked open with the arrival of the visitor. They pulled off their brown hood, and Daniella was thoroughly shocked, recognizing those garnet eyes immediately. The man who had taught her baseball. Who had kissed and bandaged her boo- boos.

The cloaked visitor was her dad.