Chapter 12: Andromeda

“She’s not dying, she cannot die!”

Andromeda woke up with a jolt, sitting straight up. Her breath was ragged, and sweat beaded along her forehead. Her wide eyes scanned her surroundings, seeing no incoming arrow.

“By the stars!”

Andromeda heard the gasp and finally registered the people in front of her. Her mum sat on the foot of her bed, her normally combed hair a frazzled mess. Around her stood a few of the neighbors, as well as the village doctor, all with shocked, pale faces.

How long had she been out?

“Andromeda!” exclaimed her mother, relief flooding through her face.

“Doctor, was…was she supposed to wake up? You said her heart was slowing, almost stopping,” one of the neighbors said uneasily. She studied Andromeda, the woman’s lips trembling.

The doctor shook his head, unable to speak. He wore the typical medic’s uniform, eyeglasses perched precariously on his nose as he peered at her, stunned. Andromeda kicked off her blanket and stood up. She had to act as if nothing was wrong, and get these people out as quickly as possible.

“I’m fine, really. I just happened to fall into a deep sleep, that’s all. I do it all the time.” She chuckled nervously.

The doctor glanced at her mother before looking back at Andromeda. “That was more than just a mere deep sleep, you were showing symptoms of a coma. We thought your heart was coming to a stop.”

Andromeda winced. She hadn’t known it was that bad when she slipped away. She put her arms out, ushering the group towards the door, a fake smile plastered along her face. “No, no, I am truly fine! See, I am up and walking. I’m all right.”

The group quickly shuffled away, giving Andromeda bewildered looks and a wide berth. She led them to the front door and opened it for them.

“I am terribly sorry for the fuss my mother made, she let her emotions get the best of her.” Andromeda managed to force another laugh, but her stomach twisted as she spoke.

The group stayed silent as they filed out, the doctor taking off to the village while the ladies returned to their homes. Frantic whispering began to start up as they walked further away, their shoulders knocking together. Andromeda let out a breath and shut the door, resting her head against it. The image of the arrow was still burned into her mind.

“Andie?”

Her mother’s voice came softly from behind her and Andromeda turned to face her. She gave her a tight smile, but her mother’s disheveled state was beginning to scare her.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice quiet.

“I was asleep, Mum, like I said.” The lie slipped through her mouth easily. Maybe because it was the same one she told herself.

“You were not asleep.”

Andromeda stared at her mother.

“You were not asleep, Andromeda. I tried to wake you up, I yelled, I grabbed you and shook you like the devil but you wouldn’t wake up! What happened?”

“Mum, nothing happened, I was just—”

“Do not lie to me, Andromeda! You haven’t left the house in weeks, you’ve grown so distant, and now this!” Tears started to form in her mother’s eyes. “You scared the stars out of me. I yelled for the neighbors. I yelled for the doctor. They told me you were dying, that I was losing you. And then you sit up miraculously, claiming to be asleep? You tell me what happened, no lies.”

Andromeda looked down shamefully, breathing hard. She was bound to find out at some point.

“I was in a dream.”

Her mother looked at her, her face still a ghostly pale.

“Not really a dream, actually,” said Andromeda, still staring at the floor. “It’s more of…a vision? I don’t know, but I slip into them at random moments. I have no control of it, and I see things that don’t make sense.” The scene with the soldier carrying his dying friend flashed in her mind before she continued. “I didn’t know how it affected me in the real world.”

Andromeda finally glanced at her mother. Her face was in a quiet shock mixed with disbelief. Shame ran through Andromeda and she gazed back down.

“How long has this been happening?”

“Weeks.” She nervously rubbed her thumb against her wrist.

“Is this why you stopped leaving the house?”

“I couldn’t risk it.”

“And you didn’t think once to tell me?”

Andromeda bit her lip. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Worry me? Andromeda, I am here to help! You cannot hide things like this from me!”

Andromeda flinched. Her mother rarely ever raised her voice.

A sigh came, and her mum walked over to the living room, slumping onto a couch. Andromeda quietly followed after hesitating, and sat across the room.

Her mother looked at her daughter, worry creasing her face.

“What do you see?”

Andromeda brought her gaze up with surprise. “What do I see?”

“In your dreams. What do you see when you slip away, as you say?”

“I see…I see different scenes each time. I’m placed in moments I don’t recognize, even when I try to. It blocks me from looking too closely at the people, their faces. Sometimes they’re happy dreams. Sometimes, they show sorrow. I don’t know how, but…they feel real. True.” Again, the picture of the ravaged city of Aldebaran entered her mind. No matter what, she wouldn’t tell her mother of that, or of the arrow that was aimed for her head.

Silence filled the room, sunlight filtering through the windows.

Her mother unexpectedly stood up, a determined look on her face. “We’ll find a way to fix you, Andie.”

“What?”

“We’re going to find a way to fix you. I will find every medic and every book on it, we’re going to stop these wretched nightmares.”

Fix me?

“Wait, Mum, I never said they were nightmares. I’ve already looked everywhere, there’s nothing—”

“I said, I will find every damned medic and Healer there is in Ophelia, Andie. You are my daughter, for stars’ sake! I will find a way to stop this.”

Her mother made her way to the hall, heading for the front door, taking into no account her ragged state. Andromeda rose and managed to grab her hand, a pleading look in her eyes.

“Mum, please, it’s not that serious. They don’t hurt me. And…I think they show themselves to me for a reason.” Her mother only stared at her in disbelief. “Please, don’t go into a spiral of madness over it. Help me get through it.”

It was the first time Andromeda had acknowledged her morbid curiosity aloud, but she knew it was the truth. Something was telling her this was all for a reason, and she wanted to know why.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing, love. I’ll get rid of this, and you’ll be back to normal again.” She slowly removed Andromeda’s hand, a sad smile on her face, before turning to leave. The door shut behind her with a thud as Andromeda stood still where her mother had left her.

A sick feeling began to creep into her stomach. Isn’t this what she wanted? To go back to her normal life? To be able to explore her world again? She could only do that if these dreams would leave her. Yet, she knew this wasn’t the answer. She couldn’t just banish the dreams and move on—she needed to know why. She needed to know what caused them, why her kingdom was in flames, why she was the one slipping away against her will.

Her mother wanted to erase the dreams, but Andromeda only wanted to understand them.