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⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ arduous journey ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Lorna didn't get the chance to decipher what the ghost, Nereida, meant by her cryptic words. Suddenly, a great jolt sent her sprawling to the ground. When she opened her eyes, which had instinctively shut from the impact, she found herself back in her temporary room. The bloody figures, the decayed flowers and the enigmatic ghost were all gone.
It was a dream. Yet, everything within Lorna screamed that it wasn't. It must have been real. It felt real.
"Are you okay?" a concerned voice spoke, spooking the girl.
Lorna turned to the source and found Aiysha crouching next to her. "Just a nightmare," the girl answered and, with the woman's help, got on her feet.
"I would lie if I said it's surprising. Everyone had a nightmare tonight," Aiysha shook her head in averseness.
The Reaper's eyes slightly narrowed at the news. She glanced at the ground one more time to make sure the rotten flowers were nowhere and returned her attention to her leader. "What about you?" she asked.
"I did too."
A nod was all Lorna could give as a response at that moment. Her eyes surveyed the hammocks in the room, and even though it was still the middle of the night, all four of them were empty, not just theirs. "Where are the others?"
"Outside. They also woke up with nightmares. They're getting some fresh air," Aiysha explained briefly, noticing the girl fidgeting with her fingers behind her back. Gently, she reached for Lorna's arms and brought them forward, examining the newly formed scars around her fingernails. "You're doing it again."
"It soothes me."
"You should find another way to soothe yourself. One that doesn't involve tearing your skin off," she chided, not hiding her disappointment. "Meditation, perhaps?"
Lorna rolled her eyes and removed her hands from the woman's grasp. "Can you tell me about your nightmare?" she approached the topic cautiously.
"It was short, thankfully. I woke up just before Melisandre and Eulalie, so my nightmare didn't have enough time to torture me more," Aiysha released a sigh. Lorna continued to watch her with curious eyes. "I will tell you about it. But we need to wash your hair. It looks like something died in there," the Outcasts' leader said the last sentence quietly under her breath, and twisted her mouth.
"I haven't had the time to take care of my appearance," Lorna crossed her arms.
Aiysha raised an eyebrow. "Sure," she nodded.
Since the girl didn't protest, Aiysha quickly arranged a basin of lukewarm water and placed it on the desk beside her hammock, guiding her to sit in front of it. Standing beside her, Aiysha carefully but firmly directed the girl's head over the basin and began to wash her hair. A warm smile spread across the leader's face as she watched the Reaper's tense shoulders gradually relax and her eyes flutter shut. In that moment, with her features softened, Aiysha was reminded that Narrowhaven's Reaper was merely a seventeen-year-old girl, one whom fate had treated harshly despite her youth.
