After Dark: Tales From Thedas

Dreaming Awake - Part 1

I blinked sleepily, rolling onto my back to stretch out the kinks in my neck and shoulders. I'd arrived in Amber Beach earlier that day, my first day of vacation – a long overdue break from my work and responsibilities. I'd been planning this for over a year and looking forward to it far longer. Yet after retrieving the key to my private cottage, the first thing I'd done was fall asleep.

Great start to my vacation, I thought staring up at the ceiling. I couldn't believe how much my life had changed in so short a time. I was a bestselling author who'd gone from rarely leaving home, to catching a plane for a book signing on the other side of the continent.

Ugh. First day of vacation and what was I doing? Ruminating about my life. I rolled out of bed and made my way to the kitchen to make coffee. As it brewed, I stared out the small window of the living area, watching as the sun dipped lower on the horizon above the lake.

The coffee was ready and the first sip tasted like heaven. But dammit, I was on vacation, I was not going to spend my first night staring out at the world from behind a pane a glass. Transferring my coffee to a portable mug, I slipped into my sandals and grabbed my jacket before heading down to the beach.

The air was filled with the scent of pine and the haunting call of loons. It was a reassuring sound, punctuated by the soft lapping of the waves hitting the beach and the quiet music of crickets and frogs. Behind it was the quiet hush of nature devoid of the noise pollution of a well-populated area.

I reached the sand and made my way to the water's edge, glad to have worn my sandals. The evening was perfect and I stood there watching as the colours of the sky changed. The bright yellow and light orange colour slid into the dusky hues of red, white and indigo as the sun continued to sink lower in the sky. I wanted to walk the beach before it set, so I set off along the waterline to check out the dock before I returned to my cabin.

I sipped my coffee as I walked, longing for a cigarette. Even now the taste of coffee had me craving the damn things even though I'd grown to hate the taste of them decades ago. The light was fading, making it harder to see. I'd spotted what I thought might be a log washed up on the far end of the beach, and I kept my eyes on it. I had no desire to skin my knees on the damn thing, nor trip over it. It was about fifty feet away, close to the dock yet something about it's shape made me frown.

It didn't appear to be as large as I'd first thought, nor did it appear smooth. I'd seen logs before, all the branches broken off, no roots attached. However they got here, dead trees resembled polished wood, but this didn't look polished. My natural curiosity wouldn't let me head back before I checked it out. I'd obsess over the damn thing if I didn't get a good look at it, but the closer I got the less it resembled a tree.

I was so focused on it, I'd stopped watching where I was going and caught my foot on something hard and unyielding. My momentum propelled me forward, my hands going out to break my fall, my mug flying from my hand.

"Dammit!" I cursed. What the hell was that? Great start Neal. First you spend all day sleeping, then you're so busy staring at some weird thing on the beach, you trip. My ankle hurt like hell and in the dim light, I could see I'd cut myself.

I cursed as I dusted myself off. I'd forgotten how quickly the light could fade and was annoyed I'd forgotten to bring a flashlight. Stupid, I thought, peering at what I'd tripped over.

I frowned, what in god's name was that? It looked like a long, smooth, polished stick of wood with a strip of leather around the middle. On one end was what appeared to be some  kind of shiny metal, shaped into what looked like a knife or dagger. I couldn't see the part I'd tripped over since it was buried in the sand.

I got to my knees and reached for it. As my hand made contact, a jolt of energy rushed up my arm and I yelped in surprise, snatching my hand away, my heart thudding in my chest. It was as though I'd touched a live electrical wire but it hadn't hurt. I reached for it again, except this time my hand only felt tingly, but otherwise fine.

I pulled on it, but it was stuck fast. Bracing myself, I leaned over and pulled with both hands. It came free faster than I expected, propelling me backwards onto my ass in the sand. My eyes widened in surprise when I saw the end. It was a cluster of crystals. It was too dark to tell what kind of crystals or how many, but it struck a chord in me. Why did this stick, if it was a stick, look so familiar?

I could feel my hands suddenly slick with fear. My pulse sped as I got to my feet, the staff... the staff? still clutched in my hand. Then I remembered the shape I'd seen in the distance. It was now quite dark, only the light of dusk to light my way and I wished again for a flashlight. Instantly the crystals flared a bright blue and I dropped it in surprise. As it left my hand, the light died and I was plunged into darkness.

Shit. What the hell was this thing? Maybe you should check out the shape tomorrow, my mind whispered. No. If this "staff" made light, I could use it to check it out before I went back to the cabin. Right. You're going to pick up the weird stick, think light and no need for a flashlight? Even thinking it made me cringe. It was too crazy to believe and I wrote this stuff. The stuff of fiction. Elves, magic, dragons... pure fantasy.

Grumbling, I picked up the stick and it flared to life again. It was so surreal I was too tired and too confused to care. I retrieved my mug from the sand, the light from the stick (I refused to call it a staff), lighting the way. As I approached the shape I'd seen my pulse sped again. It wasn't a log. The lumps and curves were too asymmetrical and more wide than I'd first thought. It looks like a person, my mind whispered and then I heard a low moan which froze me in place.

Oh crap, it was a person. Dammit. Whoever it was had been here a while. I knew because I was also the only one here. I'd come in the off-season, wanting privacy and relaxation and hadn't wanted to contend with rowdy beach-goers. Even the owners weren't here – they had a house in the nearest town forty miles away, which meant I was on my own.

The figure moaned again, reminding me I still hadn't moved. Shit, shit, shit. I gritted my teeth and took a step forward and then another. As I got closer I could see it was a man. He had dark skin and black hair. His face was turned away and he was wearing the oddest clothes. Some kind of brown leather thing and what looked like a fancy silk shawl. He moaned again and rolled onto his back, his face now in profile.

I gasped, my mind refusing to accept what I saw. It wasn't possible, it just wasn't. I was frozen, the stick still clutched in my hand pulsing with light. I couldn't move, watching as he moaned again, his eyes fluttering open to stare up into the night sky. He laid like that a moment longer before turning to stare at the stick I held. His eyes were a smoky grey which widened in surprise when they landed on me.

He got to his feet, dusting the sand from his clothes and approached me, his face filled with concern. "I see you found my staff." He said, a smile tugging at his lips.

I took a step back, my heart thudding in my chest. My mind was yelling at me to go, to run, to get away, but my heart was frozen. I couldn't say if it was pain or joy, but it felt as though I couldn't breathe. It wasn't possible... he wasn't real.

"My heart." He said. "Do you know my name?"

"I..." That face, that beautiful, handsome face. No, no, no...

He took another step toward me and this time I stood my ground, my heart still thudding in my chest. It couldn't be...

"I've been looking everywhere for you." He said, his eyes welling with tears. "Are you... all right?"

"No... no, I'm not." I said and felt myself falling as darkness filled my vision. I felt my body hit the sand, the grains digging into my cheek and then there was nothing but black.