The Children of Frevallion

Chapter Seven

After what felt like hours of driving through the endlessly winding tunnels, we finally saw a faint glow up ahead. The dim light was the first sign of anything other than the oppressive darkness. We approached it cautiously, our nerves still on edge from the chase. When we emerged, we found ourselves in a massive underground cavern. The space was wide, surrounded by towering walls of reddish-brown rock. The moonlight and starlight seeped in from a wide opening up above, casting a soft, eerie glow across the rock surfaces. The cavern was quiet, save from the occasional sifting of sand.

We were all exhausted, our bodies still tense from the pursuit, but relief washed over us as we realised, we had found a temporary refuge. Dad and I quickly made dinner, and we ate in silence, too drained to say much. Afterward, we collapsed in the camper van, too exhausted to do anything but fall into a restless sleep.

Sand slowly drifted through an hourglass. The bottom was barely full which meant it must have been turned recently. An electrical humming sound charged the air with tension, like something on the verge of exploding.

A fire crackled in a massive stone hearth set against a wall of dark wood. Lush tapestries depicting ancient hunting scenes adorned the walls. At the centre of the room was a circular table surrounding a raised stone pedestal that held a fire. The flames licked the air, tall enough to cast flickering light across the room. Around the table sat nine figures, richly dressed in robes of green, copper, red, blue, ash white, stone grey, purple and gold. Two of them wore golden crowns, marking them as royalty.

The figures were engaged in serious conversation, though no sound reached my ears. As I watched, I slowly realised all their eyes were milky white—unseeing. The fire in the centre of the table began to grow inch by inch, until the flames started to devour the wooden table. They reached hungrily with greedy hands towards the robed figures, their tongues of fire licking at the hems of the robes. The hourglass cracked from the heat as sand spilled out, and the fire roared higher, feeding on it.

I tried to scream, to warn them of the flames, but my voice wouldn't come. I was trapped, helpless, as the fire consumed everything. They finally saw the flames, but it was too late. Their skin was already blistering, burning. They rose higher, engulfing the walls, the figures, and me, until nothing was left. I cried out—

"Margot!"

I jolted awake, heart pounding. Miles' face was inches from mine, his expression filled with concern.

"Huh?"

"You ok?" he asked, leaning over the table where I'd apparently fallen asleep.

"Um, yeah." I said, trying to shake the horrible images of those burning people.

"You were screaming." Frida added, bluntly from across the table.

"Was I?" I rubbed my eyes.

"Yeah. You said, 'No! Watch out. The flames are coming.'" Miles looked at me, worry creasing his forehead.

"Just a bad dream. I won't remember the details after a few hours." It was a lie. I rarely forgot the dreams I had.

Frida and Miles didn't look convinced, but just then, Dad called from his bunk. "Is everyone ok?"

"Yeah, I just had a nightmare is all." I called back.

I heard Dad's bed creak as he climbed down the ladder. "Well, I think this calls for cocoa." He said with a small smile.

We all sat around at the table, sipping cocoa in our pyjamas, the warmth of the drink was comforting after the intensity of the nightmare. Slowly, we drifted back to bed. Dad went last, helping me convert the booth into the bed; something I'd apparently been too tired to do last night.

I opened the skylight cover above my bed, and stared up at the stars, framed by the towering rock walls of the cavern. The sky, uninterrupted by buildings or city lights, made the world feel vast. The stars shimmered brightly, unclouded by urban haze.

I drifted off, untroubled by any more dreams.