In Dreams I Lie

Chapter Twelve: Spin the Hourglass

Side Note: I adjusted the last chapter a bit to fit more with the plot for this one. You can read it again, but pretty much the guy disappears and she saves herself. Thats all. I just put it in prettier language.

I did not realize there were people watching me until I see them fall to their knees. There are only a few of them, children barely covered in rags strung together with metal stitching, woman and men alike, bearing heavy, mismatched armor, ranging from crystal to leather to chain mail. There are people from every kingdom, looking at me with their heads bowed, the scarlet and blond people of my kingdom, all bearing red swaths of cloth tied around their throats, northerners with their black eyes and even darker hair, Westerners, made tall and thin from factory work with silver implants shining in their skin, Easterners, muscle bound and with hair the color of plants and soil. I have never seen them all in one place before. Shakily, I lower my hands to where I can see them. My skin appears to have paled, losing all pigment and gaining a subtle pulsing glow. Black tattoos swirl up my arms, constantly changing and evolving. Somehow I know that they would follow me up my body, even to my face. My hand goes to my side. It does not come away with blood, I do not flinch at it's touch. I wear the same cloths that I saw myself leave in, tattered, dusty skirts, and yet now I am here, wherever that is, here and healed. Then it hits me again. Sansori tried to kill me. I died. I died. I stumble backwards away from the people.

A woman, older than I, stands. "Princess Arcadiel, are you alright?"

Then everybody is speaking, everybody is pushing to get close to me, and I am about to turn on my heals and run. A voice cuts through the crowd.

"Leave her be."

The people fall back, not kneeling like before, but letting their heads hang with respect. A path clears up the middle, and two people make their way towards me. Both are dressed better than the masses, one in shining white armor lined with silver, one in gold. The boy carries an bow while a broadsword straps itself to the girl's belt. The boy reaches his hand to me, and I recognize him. The boy from the dungeon. The boy who called to me in the abyss before he was taken from me in a swirl of nothingness.

My wings flare without my control and I cast my palm in front of me. A shield of light wells, cutting me from the people gathered in front. Through its layers, I can see people falling to the ground again.

"Arcadiel." The telepath is back. I rear out to knock her from my mind, but she finishes her sentence before I can. "We can explain everything. Just calm down."

Walls expand around my mind, cutting off her connection. The boy shoots me with a pleading look. "Just let us answer your questions."

"Where's Koen?" I demand. He should be here. "I will speak to him, and him only."

The boy's fingers itch towards his bow. My other hand conjures a black blade from thin air, one that seems to drink in light. I do not stop to ponder how I managed to accomplish this, I am too focused on my current situation and finding the people I love. I point the blade at his throat. "Put your weapons down!" I swing it over to the girl who has just begun to unlatch her sword. "Both of you!"

The boy nods and lays his bow on the ground. He lifts his hands in surrender, demonstrating that he has nothing else in them. "There. No weapons."

"Now tell me where Koen is!" I restate, voice shaking.

The boy rubs his temples. "Arcadiel, Koen's been dead for two hundred years."

"What?" The word comes out of my mouth in a gasp, a lifeline for air. I collapse to the ground, my shield breaking and my blade dissolving. I can hear the truth in his words, there is nothing that will refute his statement. Ink leaks from my hands to the ground, shaking it and staining it the same color as the tattoos on my skin. The boy attempts to approach, telling the girl to stay put with his eyes. He bends down to my head level, kneeling, like lowering himself will make the truth cut less.

"My sister and I can explain everything, if you let us." He offers.

I jerk my head up from the ground, a hiss sounding on my lips. My finger nails dig into the dirt. My newfound wings spread over me like a tent as I think of Koen. I remember the feel of his smile, the touch of his lips, his teasing, flirting comments as we would spar time and time again. I would always win and he would say that he'd get the next round, no problem. I guess now he never will. Two hundred years.... Why am I still here? Why is the boy here, why are any of us still alive, two spans longer that we should have been. Why do I still feel youthful when Koen is buried beneath the ground somewhere to eternally break into smaller and smaller pieces, only to be swallowed by the earth? I want to cry, but the only tears that fall from my cheeks are the black of tar and leave slimy streaks along my face as they fall.

The boy speaks again; he grabs my arm. "Please. Let us help you."

I shake my head and hiss, jerking my wrist free. I break from the circle, wings carrying me a few feet of the ground. The feathers stir wind and dirt up to the faces of those who watch this scene. My face contorts with hatred, not necessarily towards him or his sister but to the world. "Don't try and find me." My voice breaks and I launch myself into the sky.