Life, Death, and Time - A Books Of Beginning Collection

Oneshot: Beautiful Dreams and Terrible Nightmares

Background: Takes place in 1899, before the events of the Fire Chronicle that occurred in that time period.

Content: Rafe's dreams and nightmares, and the person in them, and what they mean for his future. 

Rafe was running, though he didn't know why. He had the sense that the very shadows on the walls of every brick store and tenement apartment building were chasing him eagerly, wanting to draw him into their fold. His feet pounded as he tried to escape them, though he was increasingly getting the sense that it was futile.

The streets were dark, though a few distant fires burned like stars in the distance. Rafe didn't notice this much though. He did not need the light to navigate, not when he had been dashing about these streets for his entire life. He did not fear the dark, because his whole life had been dark. The night was an old friend at this point.

He used to not fear shadows or the magic lurking within them, but as their claws tore at his back, their hunger evident with every breath they took, he reconsidered. He had always loved knowing that power crackled from his hands, but now he was afraid that it was a death sentance. After all, the humans wanted him dead and the shadows chased him down for his magic, even as it grew. He could feel it now, bubbling within him, an angry thing made of fire and grief.

His eyes burned with that power, glowing green in the darkness like an animal's would as he looked for his escape. They fell on a rope ladder hanging precariously off the side of a house. He could climb up onto the rooftop and make his escape from there.

Dashing to the ladder, he took hold of it, hauling himself upward at rapid speed, his feet struggling to find the rungs in the dark. He was mostly yanking himself upward with his arms, he was going so fast. The old, damaged ladder could not take it. It's ropes, so frayed with time and use, began to snap. Rafe heard the sound, and his heart sunk and one side of the ladder fell, leaving him dangling.

He tried to think of a spell to use to save himself, but he was too afraid to do magic at the moment. The shadows had gathered underneath him, snapping their teeth, waiting for him to fall so they could devour him. The other rope snapped, and Rafe's eyes fluttered shut, his stomach kicking as he fell.

Out of the blue, a hand grabbed his wrist, a soft hand with a surprisingly strong grip. He was being hauled onto the roof, saved from the shadows. He began to breath heavily, clutching that hand for dear life as he was yanked on his knees, the cold shingles of the roof chilling him through his trousers. But he did not care. He was alive.

Rafe opened his eyes to see his savior, only to have his breath taken away. She had to have been an angel, for there was nothing on Earth that Rafe could imagine was so pure and lovely.

The girl looked to be around his age. She was pale, though her cheeks were flushed red from pulling him up. Dark golden hair fell in waves around her delicate face. She was on her knees too, like him, only unlike him, she was not impure and dirty, covered in city grime and sweat. She was dressed in a gown of white and ivory and lace, with a long black coat pulled over her shoulders to shelter her from the cold. Her hands had flown to a golden locket with a worn rose on it, that hung around her neck with a belonging, as though it had been there for a long time. Her eyes, large and hazel, were filled with compassion and concern. But there was also an underlying strength there, and a deep sorrow. This girl had seen horrors unimaginable, Rafe could already tell, but she would persevere through all of them.

Wordlessly, she held out her hand and helped Rafe to his feet. Her skin was so soft and warm, though they were calloused in a way that suggested she had to work hard for her survival.