Shadows To Be

I was unable to fall asleep last night and this idea came to me. Keep in mind I was tired and half asleep.
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A peal of thunder broke through the room with a sharp crack causing the still figure in the room to jolt upwards clinging desperately to the sheets covering her. Breathing ragged and harsh, she shuddered delicately at the sound as it faded away into the night. Her body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat; the sudden summer storm making the atmosphere of the room oppressive and muggy. Sighing in resignation about yet one more night of sleep being interrupted, she threw off the covers and padded silently to the window. Rain ran in torrents off the eaves of the building, forming a miniature veil of water in front of her. She swung the windows open and breathed deeply of the scent as the wind rippled the hem of her nightgown, molding it to her body, and sprayed her with a fine misting of rain.
Leaning against the sill, she closed her eyes and allowed the wind to cool her body as well as calm her mind. Fading quickly were the images of the dream. The cursed dream had haunted her mind for months now, causing her restless nights and a dark sense of foreboding that something terrible was yet to come. Even now, if she had not been journaling the details of the dreams, writing down the tiny pieces that still remained available to her tired mind upon coming out of Reverie, she would not remember much but the pervasive feeling of ? wrongness. Lately though, these dreams had become more powerful and vivid. So much so that she was beginning to feel as if she were within the dream itself, needing only to reach out her hand and touch? She shook her head, closing her almond shaped eyes tightly, willing the image of what she feared to see away from her. Dwelling on this unpleasantness for long only meant that she would feel miserable for the rest of her day. Yes, best to forget.
Opening the windows wider still, the young maiden reached a hand forward and allowed the warm rain to fall into her cupped palm. It stirred memories from deep in her soul about running through the woods of her homeland, gentle summer showers soaking the clothing and making you feel happy in the way only a child can. Ah, but she missed her family, her sister, her best friend. It brought about a longing to leave, even if only for briefly, and a desperate need to tell someone about these unpleasant dreams. Quite against her will, her mind turned back to the images as the nostalgia faded imperceptibly away. The evilness permeating these dreams was something powerful; new? and yet at the same time ancient. How this could be, she did not understand. Underlying all of it was a feeling of familiarity. The chanting perhaps or the symbol? Her eyes widened and a shiver walked on little padded feet up and down her spine as she realized the chanting was the source after all.
The chanting was in draconic, an ancient and powerful language, almost magical in its own right. As a mage, she?d learned this language well from her beloved Master, a knowledge that was requisite for studying under his gentle guidance. Individual words from tonight?s dream were all that stood out in her mind, one in particular more strongly than the others: reaver. She could not help but think that this term should have greater significance to her than it did. She sighed and turned away from the window. There was a way to find out more, but with many things there was always a risk of losing herself in doing so. This risk was the main reason that she had not done so previously. She wasn?t ready. Not for that just yet. Her hand crept upward and touched the tiny stone embedded in her forehead. Familiar voices whispered in her mind and she smiled. The voices were warm and friendly; reassuring her that she was ready and she had but to try.
Nodding her head in acquiescence, she lay down upon the coverlet of the bed and closed her eyes. Reaching deep into the recesses of her mind, she searched for a memory for anything that would explain the images and put her overwrought mind at ease. The voices surrounded her, guiding her toward what she sought. She tightened control over the process, reminding the voices that it was she that was in charge of the trip. Questioning? testing? a slip now and she would become a shell, nothing more than a living husk, her mind locked away within itself.
A tiny ball of light appeared on the horizon. Mentally, she guided herself toward it. The light grew in size as she approached and formed a huge representation of the symbol from her dreams. A flat marble disc, half white, half black, it spun slowly on edge much as a coin is want to do when dropped. Looking at the whiteness of the symbol gave her a feeling of some small comfort; a sense of, if not goodness, at least something natural. She pulled her eyes reluctantly away and looked at the black and was immediately struck with a feeling of hate, of pure evil. Cries of the wrongfully dead echoed in the closed space of her mind, threatening to deafen her. Terrified, but unable to turn away, she watched as 2 points of red appeared within a shadow of the darkest kind. Impenetrable and seeming to oppress the light shining from the white side of the disc, the shadow began to coalesce and form into something that sent an icy stab of fear into her heart and set her body shaking uncontrollably. It was large, all teeth, talons and scales. She knew somehow instinctively that to allow it to take her its icy grip was sure death. Gathering up every ounce of strength she could muster, she moved herself quickly away from the great beast and began speeding back to consciousness. A booming roar followed her, the shockwave sending her hurtling through the spaces of her own mind: ?Look upon the Deathwyrm puny mortal! I WILL have your soul!? Knowing only that she must get out, she threw the entire force of her will into one final effort. Her consciousness jolted back into being just as she felt a searing coldness against her right ankle. Stifling a scream, she sat up quickly and looked at her throbbing leg. Etched plainly in white on her skin was the form of a large taloned hand. As she gently examined it, the image faded away bit by bit until nothing remained but the memory of the pain and the terror.
She pulled her knees to her chest, hugged them close and wept?

~LA