Autumn's Fire

Autumn's Fire: Chapter 2

Sweat drenched the sheets of my bed and prickled my skin into goosebumps as I woke in a start. I stared wild-eyed at the wall and sat for a few moments, feeling my heart pound and push violently on every vein in my body. I couldn't remember what dream had shaken me. As soon as my eyes had opened, the only memory that remained of the dream's terror was my pounding heart and a distinct feeling of warmth on my skin. I pondered the feeling at length, gently touching my arm as though it would radiate the heat I remembered being upon it until only moments ago. But all I felt was the cold chill of sweat and frustration at not being able to grasp what the dream had been. I couldn't think on it for too long, though, as soon my Mum came rushing in. She threw open the door and, with a spade clutched in her hand, she looked around the room as if ready to kill.

I flinched a bit at the sudden intrusion, but then quietly, calmly, I spoke. "Sorry Mum, just another night terror. Did I scream again?"

She glanced around the dim light of the room for a few seconds, to make sure everything was alright and then with a heavy sigh, set the spade on my dresser. The spade was worn and covered in specs of dark dirt, and as Mum let it clatter onto the dresser, small bits of dirt fell from it onto my floor and dresser. Then, Mum sat heavily on the edge of my bed and, resting her head against the wall, stared up at the ceiling.

"Sorry Mum." I repeated meekly.

She gave a tired smile that barely touched at the bags under her eyes. "Not to worry love. These things happen." Then she paused and dropping her voice low, asked, "Was it the same one again?"

I nodded silently.

"And you still don't know what it was about?" she asked, worry twinging at her words.

I shook my head, and as I did another sigh escaped her lips and she sat up straight, as though she were readying herself for something.

"Now, Autumn, if this continues, I really think we should go see someone, a healer, wise-man, anyone. You have these dreams almost every night, and... your father and I... we worry. Just please consider it?" she asked, staring at me intently.

I stared at my lap and lightly chewed the inside of my lip as I thought. Part of me didn't want to go because I'd never been one to meddle with magic and being around it generally made me uncomfortable. But the other part of me just didn't want to know the answer. This dream, terror, whatever it was, was horrifying enough that night after night it scared me to the core of my being, so much so that my mind refused to let me remember it once I'd woken up. I didn't want to go, and I didn't want to know. But I also didn't want my parents to keep being so worried the way they were. I thought for a long while as Mum stared at me attentively.

Finally, without looking up, I gave a generic, "I'll think about it."

This was apparently enough for now, and Mum nodded, satisfied. Then, lifting my head, I glanced at the dirt-crusted spade on the dresser. "Were you planning on gardening the intruder to death?" I joked weakly, trying to change the topic.

She laughed lightly and gently slapped my leg under the covers. "The Rinehilts brought us a set of about 100 magical plants that need to be potted and watered before we pack them into the wagons to take them to the city," she sighed, exasperated, as though just the thought of all the work made her tired.

I smiled at her for a few moments, expecting her to get up and leave, but she remained still. I leaned forward, tilting my head to look at her more clearly as the straw of the mattress ruffled beneath me. "Was there anything else you wanted to talk about, or...?" I asked in a tone of mixed confusion and concern. She stared straight ahead at seemingly nothing for a moment, and then, standing, went to grab my leather bag from the far corner of my room.