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Lianna tossed and turned in her bed. She felt restless, a gnawing in her soul turning to something more. An ache. She quelled it with a pillow to her face, turning over and pretending to not notice it.
But that’s the funny thing. It stays. Continuing to gnaw and gnaw, never satiated. Never ending. Lianna felt it before exactly once, as far as she could recall. Still, she hated it. Every second of it.
She wanted to laugh. Pretend that it was all just a bad dream. That tomorrow she’d wake up and he’d be there. The same as before. Before everything that happened, all the lovely friendships she made that got ripped away. They didn’t hurt as much as him. But as she tried to settle herself again the pale moonlight caught on Facinna, shining into her eyes.
Lianna couldn’t help but to laugh. It was ugly and mirthless. Enslaved to the fates. If he was-
No.
Please.
Just stop thinking about him and stop thinking about what he would say. Or do. He’s gone! He’s gone and it’s all her fault. She should’ve saved him, pushed him out the way, said she loved him, poured her heart wide open and truly rip out her core. Finally bear it open for the world. Three words could’ve saved everything but no!
She was an idiot. And here she is now, paying the price.
And as she settled down, his eyes flashed through her mind. Those black eyes, once filled with warmth, then to horrors and control beyond her imagination, then… fear.
He was scared.
The thought made Lianna shudder. She perished the thought. Stood up. Paced around her room. Sat back on the bed, laid down, and doomed the cycle to start over again.
Lianna heaved a heavy sigh, her laughter turning to tears as she collapsed upon herself in bed, allowing herself to finally be consumed by his death.
Rowan bolted awake from a nightmare. He was used to those nightmares, he had them often as a kid. Nightmares of wasting and waning like his father did. Becoming gradually weaker and weaker, losing the fat and muscle that builds strength until he couldn’t lift himself up anymore. The last moments still conscious in a body doomed to failure.
A horrid nightmare. But a familiar one.
Rowan didn’t dare go back to sleep. He didn’t care that the moon was still out, rays of its light hitting Enrillon and lighting the room with a dim blue hue. He had enough of dreams.
He had once told a dear friend about his dreams, his father, his fears. Something he had only told few people. His mother, Lianna, and him. Rowan remembered the look on his face.
A look of confusion. He asked how Rowan could love his father.
“Because he’s my father. He took care of me. He loved me”, he remembered saying. His friend didn’t respond, but the look on his face betrayed his stoicness. A tangled web of emotions, dominated by sadness and wistfulness. His friend took his hand and squeezed it firm.
The last time Rowan saw that look on his face was when he was plummeting to his death.
Standing up, Rowan headed to the window overlooking the rebuilt kingdom. He noted how the reconstruction efforts left him with little time to dwell on that day, though small moments slipped into his mind. Fuck, he should’ve said anything! Done anything! Told him that the friendship he felt had melted away into something more. Then maybe he’d be here looking upon the new city from up high with him.
Rowan saw how high he was…
He got dizzy from the height. He felt sick.
Rowan sat down on his bed, feeling tired but praying to whatever god he had lost faith in that he wouldn’t go to sleep again. Not tonight at least.
He couldn’t dream of another death. He couldn’t dream of falling, falling, falling…
Not again, he pleaded, trying hard to not let the tears run from his eyes. Not again.
But again, he was weak. Once the first few teardrops escaped, every thought, every feeling, everything followed, draining his energy and pulling him further into the dream he was so desperate to escape from.