Morning Star (The Dragon Prince X Reader)

Chapter 14 - Tidings

It's been...

Too long. Far too long. You agreed - no, you volunteered, you insisted upon this, but the days have turned into fourteen thousand, nine hundred and sixty-one days, three hours, twenty-five minutes, and eighteen seconds - and you are tired.

Funny, how you've done nothing but lay on your paltry excuse for a bed for at least three days now, and yet your mind feels exhausted. It's this same dull ceiling, the monotonous sliver of empty lair you can see from your mirror, the art pieces and crafted items you spent hours making...

You're beginning to think he won't come at all.

(You're faintly aware that something isn't right. You shouldn't still be here. No, wait, you really shouldn't. Which means... this must be...)

He warned you of this, though. He said it could be lifetimes. Three centuries was his estimate.

Three centuries.

Three hundred years.

Over a hundred thousand days.

Over two and a half hundred million hours in total.

How long will you be able to stand this? The time you've spent in this prison is nothing compared to the rest of your life so far. It's little compared to the wait still ahead of you. And yet you can feel every second pressing down on you, digging into your chest.

You can't shake the feeling that you're going to lose your mind in here. Maybe you're being dramatic. You're stronger than most; you've proved that a thousand times over. Or maybe you're right. There's nothing new in here, just wax and paper and cloth that you've all shaped yourself. You're used to travelling. Movement. Right now you're laying down, unfeeling, staring at the ceiling like a corpse. Alone.

If you weren't alone, perhaps you would know if your fears are unfounded. But you've tried seeking help already, and found you can barely access the star arcanum. Even future sight is lost to you. The beautiful symphony of life itself is utterly muted.

Perhaps you should pinch yourself, and try to... snap out of this. You can't live on in this pitiful state. That would be useless too, though. There's only one thing in here that has the power to hurt you at all, and you're saving it.

Ah, right... you're waiting.

You take a deep, shuddering breath.

...Is this how weak you are? You need to pull yourself together. You swore you would persevere. This has a purpose, you remember. Don't just stare at the ceiling like a corpse... You need to hold on... Be steadier, stronger...

Your admonishments don't stem the flow of tears from your eyes. They don't calm your gasping breath, or the trembling of your hands as you finally move. It's not monumental, barely helpful at all, but it's a movement. You turn, bury your face in the soft surface of your bed, and weep.

There is nobody to comfort you.

***

"Y/N!"

Your eyes snap open. "What?" The rest of your body remains still, which is lucky since you're sitting in the air on a giant bird. ...Right, the bird - Phoe-Phoe. You're out of the mirror. You're free again. It was just a bad dream; a memory.

Callum's talking. "You told us to wake you when we're losing altitude, and we're doing that, so, uh-"

Good, they don't seem to have noticed your little nightmare. "Right, yes." You look around; Phoe-Phoe is indeed diving towards the ground. Specifically a forest. A split-second check confirms everyone will survive if you sit still, so that's what you do. "Don't worry, she'll be alright. Like I mentioned earlier, I believe she uses the Moon Nexus as a source of power, so she's weaker now that we're away from it. She can't keep carrying all of us." The ground is getting very close now. "...Hold tight. This may be uncomfortable."