Domain of Power-The Dreamer (Book 3)

Chapter 3: Awakening

                                                                                   "Awakening"

Cold droplets hit my face, stirring me awake. I could hear voices, but I could not make out who was speaking. Drip. Another cold droplet splashed against my eyelid before sliding down the contours of my cheek.

"Troy...Troy...Troy..." the name repeated like a lullaby.

"He is waking up!" Another voice interjected. I drifted in and out of fog. Sounds felt like distant whispers through running water. When I forced my eyes open, the light stung my eyes, forcing them shut again. I tried again, only to see a blur of shapes—voices—none of which I could recognize. Just blurred images, noise, and pain.

I blinked again, cringing at the ray of light streaming from an open window. When I looked up, I could see three men. I eased my neck against the headrest of the bed, only for my chest to protest in sharp throbbing pains. My pain seemed not to faze the three men who were at this point nodding and grinning at each other. The youngest man appeared closer to my age, while the other man looked old enough to cause his birth. The man with a head full of gray hair told me he was the oldest of the group. The older two favored each other the most in bone structure but even the way they smiled to the way they carried themselves with such poise made me see just how much they resembled each other. I was staring at three generations in one room.

"We thought we lost you," the oldest man said with a sigh of relief. Veins covered his hands like.... vines—that is what they reminded me of—as they stroked my scalp. His fingernails got tangled in my matted curls. Wincing, I turned my head away from his hand. "Who?" My voice cracked as I gathered my next breath. "Who are you?"

"Your grandfather," he answered. His brows furrowed. "Do you remember me?" His smile was tight now.

I stared into his bright brownish-green orbs, wishing I knew something about this man. But he was just a stranger to me.

I frowned, shaking my head.

His shoulders shrank before dropping his gaze to the floor. He turned to look at the other two men, but his smile was gone.

Nobody had to tell me the look of pain that registered on his face. I wounded him without even meaning to.

The man standing in the middle, who looked to be at least in his forties, stared at me before turning to the young man beside him. "What about your brother, Apollus? Do you remember him?" he asked. I studied his eyes, which were a blend of green and brown, to see if I could remember the soul that possessed them. But there was no recollection of ever meeting him.

I shook my head.

"You really did have a bad fall!" the young man said. "Do you remember father, or have you forgotten him too?" he added with a bite to his words. The old man cleared his throat before turning to glare at the young man. It was evident that the old man found the young man's speech offensive, but his words only aroused more curiosity. What happened to me? Where was I? Was this my room?

"Troy."

It was the same low voice that stirred me from sleep. Now it stirred me from the flood of new questions swirling in my head. He was the man in the middle. He stepped closer while keeping his distance. He must have sensed that I was not yet comfortable with physical touch from strangers.

"I am your father. And I speak for all of us here when I say we are so thankful to have you back." If he were my father, why did he feel more like a stranger? When he stepped closer, I noticed the creases under his dark eyes, set deep against his brow. I touched my own eyes, wondering if I mirrored his look. Then it hit me. I forgot what I looked like!