Dream Wakers: The Veiled Prophecy (Book One)

Chapter 12

They sat together on a stone wall, wind rushing around them. His hair was kept neatly behind his neck, beckoning to times long before her own. There was a softness in his eyes and butterflies dusted her stomach. Lillian studied the movement of his mouth, unable to hear his voice. He pointed to the open hills and more shadows appeared in front of her. An ancient battle quickly unfolded. Warriors sped in horse drawn chariots. Tattooed bodies ran with spears. A rabbit darted between their feet. Fearful it would be caught amongst the violence, she started to panic. She tried to get up to save it but green light had wound around her knees, keeping her tied to the wall. Sensing her distress, he grasped her hand and the people disappeared from view.

Lillian could feel a presence to her other side and looked to see the woman. She also tried speaking, but no words came to Lillian's ears. She strained to hear, tried speaking herself but sound did not flow from her lips. She watched the girl rise, orange strings of electricity popping behind her. Lillian followed. Her shadow man held out his hand before dissipating.

Lillian tripped into darkness. She tried to scream for help, but moonflowers and herbs fell from her mouth instead. Smoke made her eyes tear, and the crackling of fire pierced her ears. She could feel her body reaching for a notepad, and the dream faded.

The sun had not risen when she woke. The sky outside was lavender and Lillian looked as tired as she felt. She pulled a large cream sweater over her slender frame and slid outside. The apples of her cheeks reddened on the footpath to her woods. The dim light peeked through the density of her trail as she walked briskly to keep warm, trying to sort out dreams she could no longer ignore. Aillig had always told her dreams were important messages from the subconscious. Before recent, she had agreed faithfully; she derived most of her herbal concoctions that way. Yet you shove off the strange ones, as if they are to be treated separately from your herbs. Dreams are dreams, she argued with herself.

She had to admit their presence had evolved from fearsome hauntings. Now, they almost offered her a sense of comfort. She pulled her hands to her lips to warm her chilled fingers. Repressing the shadow man's existence had saved her from abuse in childhood. Opening up to the realism of his companionship wouldn't hurt her now and Lillian's hungry curiosity started analyzing.

"I suppose ghosts are real enough if I've seen it my entire life," she whispered between the trees.

Mist curled around her legs as she wondered if the woman was also some form of haunted soul. Sometime in the night she had dreamt about her and the horrendous man that followed her.

"Maybe she died in a terrible way," Lillian guessed to herself.

Lillian tried to match their faces to someone she knew without success. It was too peculiar to feel so familiar with people she'd never seen before. She shook her head.

"Who knows, Lillian, maybe they're just symbolic of all the commotion going on. Maybe their image is only a physical representation of your thoughts, which are currently fear and love."

She smiled at the slumbering greenery around her. The shadow is a handsome man, she allowed herself.

"Unfortunate he's not real," she said playfully.

Reaching her garden, she clipped her rose bushes before going inside. She'd be needing to mix and replenish her stock soon. Lillian glanced at the clock as she picked up her dream notes, muttering under her breath.

"Time escapes me too quickly," she murmured, folding the paper and heading out.

She toyed with it in her pocket as she walked to the shop, a gentle crease pressed between her sculpted brows. She tried focusing on Aillig and the matter at hand, but for some reason she felt distracted to look at her notes now. It wasn't like her to push responsibility aside, but it was such a painful duty to recall Aillig's death. Dougal was also likely to show up again, and Lillian felt procrastinating the drama a little longer wouldn't hurt.