Born of Flames

Chapter 8 ~ The Next Step

    The dream began in darkness, choking out the glow of her magic until its light was barely perceptible. Morana sparked flames above her fingertips, but their weak flickers barely dented the shroud.

    She moved in a slow circle and peered into the darkness, attempting to make out her surroundings. No matter how hard she strained her eyes, the shadows were impenetrable.

    She looked down as the ground began to tremble beneath her feet, sending dust and gravel rolling away. Morana crouched, holding her flames closer to the earth. The rumbling deepened until her very bones rattled. She splayed her other hand on the ground in an attempt to steady herself.

    All at once, the shaking stopped, but before she could lift herself, something burst from the soil beside her hand and wrapped around her arm in a deadly grip. A scream tore from her throat at the sight of the decayed hand, sinewy flesh peeling back from cracking bones.

    Morana jerked against the hand's grasp but it only tightened its hold, sending a shock of pain up her arm. Her screams of horror grew breathless as more and more hands ripped out of the soil, each one grabbing onto her with equal ferocity.

    She writhed and kicked, trying to fight her way up, but the hands dragged her back down, forcing her flat on the dirt. Her screams were panicked gulps now, her chest constricting with each one. Her lungs begged for air, but each breath she drew was devoid of it. She couldn't even find her voice to call for help.

    Morana kept struggling, magic burning across her limbs but doing nothing to break the hands' hold. Tears poured down her cheeks and she choked on each gasping sob. Flames licked at the tears on her cheeks until they hissed into steam. Morana's eyes widened.

    The flames burned hotter, spreading across every inch of her body. Her face was burning, and she could hear her screams again. She wailed as flesh curled away from her jaw and blisters spread across her arms. Her very blood was boiling now, pouring over her exposed teeth and down her neck.

    The undead hands continued to hold her, unaffected by the flames consuming her flesh and bones. Her wails turned to pleas as her limbs began to crumble into ash.

    Wind swept her body into the darkness bit by bit until she was nothing but a severed head, begging for mercy where none could be found. Her faceless skull was still screaming as the hands of the dead pulled it beneath the soil, into the realm of unending darkness and decay.

•༻☽☾༺•

    Morana lurched upright with a breathless gasp and a scream that all but shattered her voice. Tarion bolted up, a dagger already in his grasp. "What? What is it?" She barely heard the words. Morana thrashed her legs, throwing off the thin sheets that had wrapped around them, and rolled off the bed.

    She hit the floor hard and scrambled towards the empty fireplace. Morana raised her shaking hands and flames guttered over her fingers. Frantic tears dripped down her cheeks as she tried again. Darkness pressed in around her, bringing with it the horror of her dream and Morana threw her hands over her face with a broken whimper.

    Floorboards creaked as Tarion sprinted over to her and dropped to his knees at her side. His hands gripped her shoulders and panic clawed at her chest, fogging her already confused mind. Morana twisted away from him with a cry of terror and magic skittered across her skin in sizzling bolts of energy.

    "Morana, it's just me," Tarion called. "It's me." A ball of light formed above them, brightening their surroundings. Morana gulped down rapid breaths, staring at him with tear-blurred vision. "It's just me, Birdie." Flames danced to life on the hearth.