Ash and Dusk

Chapter 27

Darkling's POV

It was the first time I dreamt in many years.

However, I could still remember that it didn't use to feel this way, like the darkness of sleep was this thick, unbreakable even in its deepness. It felt as if I was the only one left in the world in an infinite silence before something I couldn't see wrapped around my neck, strangling the breath out of me.

But then it stopped.

The layer of shadow I felt dissipated and I was left in the sweet, normal, unconciousness of sleep.

Still, unusual images flashed through my mind. I saw the Morozova's stag in the clearing of Tsibeya, ground covered heavily with snow, but this time the animal was not the colour it should have been. The sleek, almost shining white of its hair was replaced by pitch-black, in a shocking contrast with the surroundings. Its antlers resembled the tree branches, rising proudly above its head in smooth, dark arches.

The stag shook its head with nervousness at the same time storm clouds appeared on the sky, completly covering the sun. It seemed as if it was already night.

After waiting impatiently in the middle of the clearing, the animal fixed its gaze on me and, without any warning, started sprinting forward. Toward me. I didn't dare to move, but I felt like even if I tried I couldn't have succeeded.

The stag stopped abruptly before it reached me, sliding on the snow the rest of the distance between us. It was strange and quite intimidating, standing this close to it. It's head lowered until we were at eye level. A hot breath blew right in my face, extending quickly around us in a cloud of fog. I felt an inexplicable state of danger looking into its eyes.

They were silver.

Round, almost human-like, with the metal shine of steel irises.

They were the last thing I remembered before I woke up.

This, and the feeling of wrongness.

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The room was dark and moonlight shined through the curtains in soft rays, making patterns on the ceiling.

I blinked slowly.

A pile of sheets was tangled around my body. I was laying in a bed, in the bed of my chamber back at the Ravkan Embassy, I realized. I couldn't remember how I got here or how the fight at the docks ended. The only thing that persisted was the feeling of metal cutting through the bone.

I raised my hands upwards, observing from my still laying position.

They were healed. Mended. I pulled the long sleeves of my shirt until they piled above my elbows where I could see two faint red circles. The spot where my arms have been cut. Brushing my fingers over the spot, I felt a strange jolt, not of power, but of emptiness. A familiar one.

That meant...

I looked to the right, where Alina was sitting on a chair near my side of the bed. She was sleeping, head held in one of her palm. The wound on her forehead was still there, with dried blood not even cleaned. A healer should have looked upon it.

When I shifted in a sitting position, her eyes flew suddenly open, like she didn't intend to fall asleep. I froze at the sight of her.

Her eyes had lost their warm brown shade. Instead, I was pinned in my place by a silvery, almost white shade, one that made me feel like I was looking at Alina through a double set of mirrors, in which her reflexion wasn't quite her. Similar enough to recognize her, but too different not to be wrong.