The Children of Frevallion

Chapter Four

I'd managed to get back to sleep, but in the morning, I woke up feeling nauseous. I was overtired and desperately wanted to be back home in my comfortable bed. The dream from last night nagged at me—it was a strange thing for my brain to concoct. This campsite was pretty safe. Nothing about yesterday had made me feel threatened. Yet, a sense of lingering foreboding pressed down on me, refusing to lift. Eventually, I decided to ignore it and get on with my day.

No one was up yet, which was strange. Typically, we were a family of early risers. The campground was silent, and the dewy ground was covered in delicate mist. I checked my watch. The digital display said it was two minutes past six. That explained it.

As I sat at the table, waiting for any signs of life from the campervan, my mood got fouler and fouler. Finally, at quarter past seven, I gave up the wait and banged on the campervan door.

Miles opened it, blissfully smiling. "Morning! How'd you sleep, sunshine?" His cheerful smile begged for a sarcastic retort.

"I had dreams," I grumped, wishing he would pick up on my mood.

"Bad dreams?" He asked, a hint of genuine concern breaking through his teasing.

I nodded, the unease creeping back in.

"Okay, breakfast I make. You sit. We eat," he said, adopting a mock caveman persona. He started grunting and making exaggerated gestures which might have been funny, if I hadn't felt so off.

I shot him a withering look. "Ooh, look. That stare singed me," he joked, pretending to examine an imaginary burn on his arm.

I swatted at him, but he moved out of reach.

"Peace?" he offered, presenting a mini box of cereal with a flourish. I snatched it from him and headed outside to the table, needing a moment away from his antics. He shrugged and went back into the campervan. When he came out, he was carrying his own box, a couple of bowls, some milk, and spoons.

"So, Margot. How's everything? What have you been up to, honey?" he said in a mock female voice, his head resting on his hands.

"Why is it that every time I'm grumpy, you turn into a comedian?" I asked, struggling to suppress a smile.

"Well, now Margot, we had this conversation in the womb. I'm the only one who's allowed to be a grouch while you are cursed to be forever," he replied sweetly, "sunshine, rainbows, and unicorns."

I shook my head, made my cereal, and began eating, trying to ignore him for a while.

He made a show of preparing his cereal slowly, glancing at me, trying to elicit a laugh. I was determined to remain in a foul mood. But he was relentless. Then he began to sing, loudly.

"Shhh... Miles! Stop," I gestured for him to sit down. The campground was still sleepy, and there were families with young children nearby.

"Not if you don't break out of that grump," he replied, and then continued singing even louder.

I'd had enough. I picked up my cereal bowl and walked off. The beach seemed as good a place as any to get some peace.

The rest of the day was spent lazily hopping between the beach and the pagoda, swimming in the cool waters and playing board games under the warm sun. Then came the big debate: baked beans on toast or give in to our craving for fish and chips from the local shop?

As we all sat around the table, munching on our fish and chips, Miles suggested that we play a board game. "I'm ready to crush you all this time," he said with a grin.

I rolled my eyes but couldn't resist a good boardgame. "Bring it on," I said with a smirk.

Frida scoffed. "In your dreams, Miles. You're going down!"

Dad chuckled. "I'll just sit back and watch you all try to beat each other."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh really, Dad? You're not getting off that easily."

And so, we spent the evening playing a game, laughing and joking as we strategized and schemed against each other. As the night wore on, we all grew tired, but the competition was fierce. In the end, I won, much to Miles' chagrin.

"Rematch!" he cried.

But I just grinned and shook my head. "Maybe next time," I said, patting him on the back.

Before we packed up for the night, he leaned in slightly, his playful demeanor shifting. "You sure you're ok? You've been so quiet since breakfast."

I rolled my eyes, "I'm always quiet."

"Not around me," he reminded me with a knowing grin. "Do you want to talk about those dreams?"

I hesitated, a flicker of fear twisting in my stomach. The bitter taste returned to my mouth. Part of me wanted to share the darkness that had crept into my sleep, but I shook my head. "It's nothing, really. Just... weird dreams."

Miles studied me for a moment, his brow furrowing in concern. "Alright, just checking. You know I'm here if you need anything."

I offered him a small smile, grateful for his worry, even if I wasn't ready to relive it just yet. "Thanks Mi."