❝do my violet eyes haunt your dreams as your weeping ones haunt mine?❞
FIRESTORM;
in which the last living member of a isolated fey clan survives the red paladin's wrath, and is sent on a journey to find her ancestor's creation. only to get throw...
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A SOFTENED MOAN filled the quiet spacious home as Randvi twisted and turned in her bed. Her forehead drenched with sweat, and her skin; sticky and hot. A candle sat on the family table, the wax was still warm suggesting the flame had went out a few minutes before Randvi started to cry out in her sleep.
A young man filled her dreams. A man that held no remorse of any kind. A man that had markings, a red tinge under his eyes, streaming down his soft skin and over his cheeks like fallen tears. Randvi had been having these dreams more frequently now, and they have come almost every night, sometimes in the shape of a man with fire reflecting in his cold blue eyes. Sometimes, a blur of red flying across her line of sight. She could hear words that weren't her own, weren't of this world and of her language. They whispered her secrets — of what — she did not know.
Her mother would always explain that these dreams meant she was connected with the Hidden. That these dreams held so much power within them but every time Randvi would have these dreams, they seemed more like nightmares than her untold future.
While Randvi's breathing began to increase, her mother, Sora had woken up from her light slumber. She could hear her daughter's soft muffled cries from across the room, and began to walk towards her sleeping frame. Sora placed a hand onto her daughter's forehead, feeling her slight fever, her forehead slick with cold sweat.
"Randvi." Sora called out in the dark without any luck, and then started to rock the sleeping Randvi even more roughly as she repeated her name louder. Randvi quickly woke up with a start, body shaking and her lungs gasping for air. Her wild purple eyes roamed around the room until they met the calm yet worried eyes of her mother.
"When will these dreams end?" Randvi's words cut through her mother's heart like a sharp knife. The brokenness of her daughter's words, the sight of her small body shaking with freight from whatever the Hidden shown in her dreams. She wished she could take them away and experience them herself, maybe she could make sense of what her daughter couldn't.
Sora wanted to believe that her daughter was made for great things. She knew she was brought into this world with an unworldly situation. Sora had almost bled to death on the birthing bed, and she should have died but she somehow, someway, she had survived. Since that night, she had always told her daughter that the hidden was dreams were good, that they were telling her the destiny she was meant to fulfill. But Randi barely spoke about them, and most of her excuses of not explaining further would be that she had forgotten them once she woke. Sora knew better, but she never pushed her daughter further. She knew Randvi will speak about them when she was ready and Sora would be there when that time would come, and help her achieve the greatness she was always meant to get.
