The Tellanon

10. A nightmare and a worry

The two men ran towards her. The broad one was in front, but the taller one wasn't far away. They were running fast, and Emyra saw death creeping towards her again. She drew the dagger, and trembled. The sword swung towards her neck. She ducked, and  later felt the hot blood from the man’s belly on her face, saw the insides. She gagged, but felt the danger behind her. She whirled round, stabbing the other man right through the heart. The body thumped and lay still. A black smoke rose from the corpses, and Emyra started screaming, watching in horror as the faces changed into the faces of Allen and her father. The other corpses all seemed to bear Berren's face. All stood up, and walked toward her, as the black smoke solidified slightly and formed a corpse. It turned into Lynn's silhouette being murdered, her mother's throat being cut, Michelle raped and stabbed over and over, Thomys thrown into the sea. It shifted to Berren, hewn down amidst a pile of corpses. It changed into a soaring bird-demon, into a knife, into a burning city. Emyra fell down, hand raised, gasping. The shadow changed into a ghost warrior, and his horse ran her over. As the hooves appeared over her face, she screamed.

The sweat poured down her face, as she woke up. She screamed, and sat up, seizing her dagger and pressing it to her chest. Serin pulled it out of her hands roughly, just as she wanted to throw it far away. Emyra looked up wildly, then relaxed. She fought back the tears, not wanting to cry again. The nightmares had haunted her ever since she had seen the shapes at the village. It was now six days ago, and she had not had a calm dream since. Serin seemed worried, too, and it seemed unlikely that was out of concern for Emyra. She had refused to tell anything about the Nightmares, but did not at all look at ease. She had her sword loose in its scabbard, and she kept muttering.

“What did you dream this time?” Serin asked. Emyra looked at her groggily, rubbing the sleep and tears from her eyes.

“Why do you want to know? It’s my nightmare, you’re not having any.” Emyra said.

“No, I do have a lot of nightmares. I’ve simply never seen the Nightmares, and I even think what I saw is worse. Anyway, it’s important. I’ll tell you why, maybe, sometime. What did you dream?” She sounded impatient, worried and dangerous.

“I dreamed I killed those men. Their faces turned into the faces of people I loved. They came to me, and then that black smoke turned into my family being killed and then into all kinds of shapes, and a horse’s hooves were about to crush me, and I screamed and I woke up.” She shook and felt sick at the images, that had been so vividly detailed.

“Did anything burn?” Serin asked urgently. Emyra nodded.

“A city. There was a city on fire. It burnt down into a pile of ashes, and shifted to that horse.”

Serin nodded, and walked away, towards Ash, who had caught a rabbit. The dog was a good hunter. Emyra thought Alea was much more clever, though. She had picked up some tricks already, in only six days. She would whinny twice if she sensed a storm or anything coming, thrice if she sensed an enemy. Serin was teaching her ‘Charge’ and Emyra was teaching her how to respond to ‘left’, ‘right’, ‘faster’ and ‘gallop’ instead of to the signals she gave with her legs.

Serin was training Emyra as well. She still was a rather hopeless fighter, and now that she had a good sword, she should start getting the hang of it. The blade was steal from the Shadow Mountains, very dark, very strong and incredibly light. It had strange runes carved on it, and Emyra could decipher 'cold'. The runes were Elder Speech, and Emyra could read some. However good the blade, though, she would die, sometime, if she couldn’t fight. Little though she liked it all, she had accepted that truth. Serin was an amazing fighter, but she was fifty-three. Emyra knew that anyone could be as good, if they wanted to. She didn't. She just didn't want to die. Serin said there was always someone who was better, so there always was a chance she'd die. Emyra would answer she might still die of sickness, so dying seemed a good option anyway. Serin would then bruise her arm, and tell her to shut up.