《The Legend of Fanaura: Cursed》Chapter 29 - Nightmares (Eireen)
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Men screamed in pain clutching their grievous wounds as bows twang sending snakes of deaths into the never-ending army. The castle walls stood high defiantly in the face of such ferocious siege weapon. The siege towers lumbered on slowly at snail pace.
“Fire!” The captain ordered suddenly as catapults unleashed wave of death destroying siege weapons and burning men alike. The sun was high and burning on them furiously. Catapults, arrows, and magic skills such as firebolt, wind arrow, also burning meteor fired from both sides furiously trying to gain the advantage. Rams battered at the gate as oil ran down with feet men ran in anguish as they were burnt from the magma substance; screamed until they rested into nothingness.
Eireen stood in the middle of the chaos, the wounded and dead lay thickly over the wintry ground, garish scarlet over the blackened land. They surrounded her, all over, all around, scattered in every direction possible. And all she could do was straining her sore, sore eyes - the very ones that cried and bled, and shied. The gem in her chest was nothing but a mere decoration. There's nothing she could do; helpless, hopeless, lonely. Then suddenly she heard a scream, likely a child, the primal most raw communication. The purest way one soul can ask another for help. Eireen whipped her head toward the source of the voice.
Not far from her right she saw a frightened little girl cornered by a beast. The creature was huge and grotesque with matted hair and huge twisting horns protruding upward into the blazing sky. It stood on it’s knotted haunches and stooped as its wrinkled face stared at the little girl. The girl’s eyes met hers, locked her with a desperate plea for help. But no matter she tried to move her legs they refused to budge.
“Help please, I don’t want to die,” the little girl begged Eireen for her life, tears streaming from her fuchsia eyes, “Hero, the chosen one, please help me…”
Eireen tried again and again to pull her legs, to make it move; anything just anything so she could run to the little girl to shield her for whatever harm may come to her, but her feet felt like it was planted rooted to the ground on where she was standing. She glanced down trying to see what made her unable to move. What she saw made her gasped in horror, underneath her lay pile and pile of dead bodies, their hands clawing, gripping, clinging desperately onto her feet and legs, their eyes opened, angry, dead and still. Their mouths moved in the synchronized way, “It’s all your fault! You are not the chosen one, you are a mistake! Look what have you done! You are not the chosen one!”
Her own scream startled Eireen out of her abysmal nightmare. Her cheeks were wet and her body was bathed in cold sweat. The sheets were twisted around her limbs, she must have been trashing in her sleep. Her heart pounded against her chest, she trembled. The room was entirely dark, she must have forgotten to light up the lamps. The remnants of her nightmare still clung to her mind, haunting her. She had been having these kinds of nightmares for days, even weeks, ever since the day the Goddess announces her as the chosen one and it has gotten worst after that trip to the lake with Scry.
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A sudden cold wind licked her neck and crept under her clothes, spreading across her skin like the lacy tide on a frigid winter beach. Her already trembling body shivered harder as she turned her attention toward the source of wind. The door to her bedroom was opened and someone was standing in front of it, the light from outside made her unable to guess who was it.
“Who’s there?” she asked. A heavy silence settled over them, thicker than the uneasy tension in the atmosphere. The silhouette shifted uncomfortably on his feet,
“A-are you okay?” the person finally spoke up. The voice sounded young, those quiet almost timid soft voice. Eireen wasn’t sure but she thought she had heard that voice before.
“I heard screaming,” he took a few steps into her room, “and-- your room door wasn’t locked. So, are you okay?”
Eireen finally realized who’s the person, “Marc…?”
“Yeah…,” he stopped not far from her bed, again looked gawky and uncertain, “I was just doing some patrolling in the area…”
In the dark Eireen looked at the boy, he has been one of her teachers these past days, he didn’t seem to show much care or affection beside her progress in learning the mage skill. He was quite practical and efficient, to see him worrying about her was quite a surprise for her.
“Silver?” he called out, he always called her by her family name, something about his eastern upbringing. Eireen blinked and nodded like an idiot before she realized that he probably won’t able to see it in the darkness.
“Yeah, I am okay,” she finally croaked, “just a nightmare…”
“I see, well I guess I am glad you are not hurt or anything,” he mumbled to himself and shifted his legs, turned toward the door, but he stopped again with his back facing her.
“Well, I’ll bid you goodnight then,” he added, “get some rest, you need the strength for tomorrow training.”
“Ah…,” Eireen eyes flickered down, for some reason she felt colder than before. Marc has always been practical, mission-oriented and somewhat cold. It was already rare enough for him to actually checked on her well-being. When not even Scry her own so-called fiancé who slept next door made the effort. He probably not in his room, as usual, jumping from one bed to another, from one embrace to another. It’s funny on knowing how her future marriage life would be, far before it actually happened. Scry already pointed out that she was a mere tool for him to play his string over Jace and the fact she was the chosen one didn’t really change on how he treated her; not like she wished some affection from him. Usually she would try to telepath Zeke when she needed someone to comfort her, especially when she had her nightmares, but lately, she kept failing on reaching him. After he was sent away to the frontline, she barely could contact him and after she was selected as the chosen hero, he disappeared and no matter how many time she tried to telepath him nothing seemed worked. She couldn’t help to fear for the worst might have fallen on him. She did try to contact her mom once, but her mom was someone who picked up her distress signal in the simplest tone change. So she decided to not do that anymore. She didn't want to make her worry.
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Something warm started trailing down her cheeks, it felt like stings crawling down her face. Then the tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down her face. She didn’t want to cry, she wasn’t expecting it either, but she felt very lonely and she couldn’t stop herself, not even the knowledge of someone that barely able to be called as a friend was with her. She felt the muscles of her chin tremble like a small child, there was static in her head once more, the side effect of her constant fear, constant stress she had been living with. She heard her own sounds, like a distressed child, raw from the inside. Brick by brick, her walls came tumbling down, she just broke down. She sobbed into her hands and the tears dripped between her fingers, raining down onto her duvet as she pulled her legs and cuddled them with her forehead resting on her knees. Her breathing was ragged, gasping and her whole body shaking. Then, suddenly, she felt something warm on her shoulder, patting and rubbing her carefully, pulled her out from her hollowness. A soft light came from Marc's left hand. It gently illuminating the room. He had conjured simple ray magic. The glow was soothing and calming.
Marc had laid his other hand lightly on her shoulder, and instead of flinching on the touch she welcomed and was soothed by his action. His eyes showed an awkward concern but his usual cold face was gentle. He didn’t say anything much but leaving his hand on her back until she calmed down.
“Thank you…,” Eireen croaked, her voice rasped because of all the crying. Marc just nodded formally.
“Are you okay now, Silver?”
“… I guess.”
Marc stood there watching her, he had pulled his hand away but he stayed.
“Do you need anything?”
Eireen shook her head dubiously and ended up nodded instead. She opened her mouth and closed it a few times without saying anything. She had an argument in her head on whether she should openly request it to him or not.
“Are you sure?” Marc saw her expression and knew that she had something in her mind, “If you are feeling better and don’t really need anything, I guess I could leave you now?’
Eireen finally nodded, “I am fine, thanks. You should go if you need.”
Marc gave her one last concerned look before he finally turned his heels, “goodnight then. Sleep well, Silver.”
But he didn’t manage to go far when he felt a tug on his sleeves, he looked back and saw Eireen shaking hand was holding his corner right sleeve. He glanced at the girl who looked down but refused to let go of her grip.
“Stay? Please? Just till I fall asleep?” her voice was so quiet, he barely managed to get the full sentences of her words.
He stood there uncertain on what to response on her request. The silence lay on Eireen’s skin like a poison. It seeped into her blood and paralyzed her brain, her pupils became dilated and the tremor in her hands became stronger. She didn’t dare to look up and find his awkward face. Unable to contain the uneasy atmosphere she let go of her grip from his sleeve.
“I am sorry, don’t mind it…” she said flushed by her own action.
Marc stood there quiet and still almost like a living statue. When finally he moved, he walked to a nearby chair and pulled it near the window.
“I guess… I don’t mind to stay around for a bit,” he said without looking at her and sat on the chair, “I will leave the bedroom door open too, I don’t want anyone to misunderstand. Especially because you are the fiancé of Prince Scry Treeoaks…”
Eireen was dumbfounded to see that he actually granted her impulsive plea, he made her think that he wasn’t as cold as she thought he would be.
“Thank you…,” Eireen finally smiled for the first time, she hasn’t been able to smile sincerely since the day Zeke told him about his assignment to the frontline.
“Uhm… don’t worry about it. Just go to sleep, you will need all the strength for tomorrow,” Marc said matter-factly.
“Ugh yeah…,” her smile slowly disappeared, remembered about the hell training she still had to face in the morning, “well goodnight… Marc.”
“Goodnight…”
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Adelaide
The entries here are transcribed from the log of Marie Ruiz, first mate of the Adelaide. It was definitely, definitely not published without her permission or knowledge by a certain lovable artificial intelligence for the purpose of sharing it with my AI friends on other ships who follow it like a soap opera. No way, no how. Remember guys, don’t go spreading this around too much. Only pass it on to those you can trust. God forbid this should ever end up on a public network… (Adelaide is a science fiction web serial featuring the adventures of a crew of smugglers. In space. It’s on the softer end of the soft/hard sci-fi spectrum because the author got a C in physics. Updates every other Sunday.)
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