The Dreamfarer

11

Mae woke up in a stranger's arms. She swung herself out of them instantly, not wanting to feel someone's touch around her when she was unfamiliar with it. The warlock carrying her did not fight her. She hit the ground hard, the impact resonating through her shins as she grimaced. She straightened up after a moment and looked around.

The warlock beside her was shorter than the others she had met so far. His eyes were jet black and pupil-less, just like both Dael and Kroma's. She found herself wondering if all warlocks' eyes were the same. That thought led to her to wondering why Folco's eyes were not black, and why his teeth were different as well - she saw, as the warlock attempted to smile at her, that his teeth were just as serrated and disturbing as her father's. 

The warlock's hair was a flaming shade of orange; it almost hurt her eyes to stare at for too long. He was slightly plump, and his skin was a darkened chestnut, setting a stark contrast to his ridiculous hair - which, for the record, was a good six inches long at even its shortest point and sticking straight up.

He didn't say anything to her, and she was not about to strike up a conversation. Not when she saw Folco walking towards her once more.

She had seen him more than once in person, it was true, but it was always in their dream states. While she knew that as a Dreamfarer, dreams were her reality just as much as her conscious experiences were, it was still different in a way, seeing Folco in front of her. Like he had finally become part of her world - the world she had grown up in - instead of bringing her into his.

"Hi," she said to him. She could not stop her face from lighting up when she looked at him. The connection she felt between them was as present as ever, something deep in her gut trying to tug her in his direction. She wondered if he felt the same thing, or if it was just a Dreamfarer thing. Maybe all warlocks with similar powers were drawn to each other in a way. It was something to perhaps ask him about at a later date.

He must have felt something similar, because his grin was genuine and wide. "Hello, Maeve," he replied, the consonants rolling off of his tongue in a caress. A shiver ran through her, but it was a pleasant one; nothing like the way her stomach flipped and her skin crawled when Dael spoke to her.

He stopped just in front of her, looking down into her eyes for a moment before turning to glance at the other warlock.

"The mission went as I predicted?" he asked shortly. His tone was not as soft and smooth now that his words were not directed at Mae; they were barbs, sharp and demanding. She knew that the warlock would not be able to avoid them, and if she were him, she would not say anything but the truth in response to such a voice.

"Yes, Sir," the warlock replied. His tone was deferential, and Mae peeked at Folco curiously. She knew that he had been leading this small group on the rescue, but to get such a power-hungry creature as a warlock to truly adhere to your orders and show you respect... Well, Mae simply wondered if Folco had been overly humble when referring to his level of authority in their conversations. It occurred to her then that if he was trusted, feared, and looked up to for important tasks by Kroma, he must be Kroma's 'right-hand man,' per se. 

Folco nodded once, and his expression softened instantly as he looked back at her. "Maeve, we do not have time to try to outrun Dael. He will be after us now with a deadly fervor, and I cannot risk losing you."

His words were purely factual, but Mae's heart fluttered. She could not help but imagine him saying those same words in an affectionate tone, with his eyes shining bright and crinkles in the corners of his eyes as he smiled at her as though she was the only important thing to him in this world...

"Maeve?"

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts in a heartbeat. "I heard you. So what's the plan?"