I wasn't sure what I was expecting the moment my head hit the pillow in the little guest room. A part of me thought I would wake up to a demon dragging its claws through my abdomen, tearing open my insides as it watched me choke on the venom seeping from its claws.
Another part of me expected to wake up to her aiming a sword at my throat, finally catching me after a decades' long chase. There was no coming to terms with that sort of fear, as shaky and tired as my limbs were.
Yet, somehow, I barely remember closing my eyes.
"Time to get up, Songbird," a voice whispered in the faint, distant valleys that crowded my mind. "Hey. Songbird."
It was quiet. I needed the quiet. Needed to remember what it was like to close my eyes and see nothing but a black void. No memories. No voices.
No mistakes that I could never hope to redeem myself from.
"Songbird," that same voice whispered, tugging at me. "Songbird, the . . ."
I could feel myself falling, my consciousness drifting further and further from . . . From what? I was supposed to do something.
A sheering, sharp pain spliced my skull.
"Wake up!" More urgent. Violent, even. Swirls of black and red smoke filled my vision.
Panic. I was feeling panicked, but why?
"Songbird!" A bellow this time, shaking the ground I now laid on. Dirt crunched beneath my fingers, my surroundings becoming more and more solid-
A series of slow, patient footsteps grew closer and closer. When I thought someone would step on me, I heard what sounded like a rustle of fabric, followed by cool, almost comforting fingers alongside my cheek.
"That's it, Little Lion," a soft, female voice hummed, a hint of mockery churning the last two words. "Open your eyes."
I didn't quite understand the last part. I could clearly see the smoke around my face, my eyes burning from the exhaust. Next to me, my fingers twitched, brushing against dirt and rock. The need to wave the smoke from my eyes was becoming intense - by the gods, it burned.
Don't. Songbird, you'll get us both killed.
The grip the woman had on me tightened.
"I hold no qualms with you, wayguard," she said suddenly. "Release her."
Wayguard. Bogdan. Rhoe.
Stop thinking, you idiot! a familiar voice hissed. Because the more and more I realized what was going on, the more everything solidified around me. Then: Don't any of you fucking try anything, or I'll send you all to hell.
Ah, so he must have met the other lovely inhabitants residing in my head.
The amount of smoke increased tenfold. I gasped, struggling to breathe, the woman's fingers fading from touch-
I was standing in an open square located in the middle of a cold, unwelcoming dock town. I recognized it almost immediately; the cracked stone and dirt that made up the roads, the old, ancient buildings that somehow stood firm against the wind and the snow and the freezing rain year after year. I could even smell the damn fish through the icy air, feel my throat burn with each breath I took due to the frosty temperatures.
I froze, finding myself facing a familiar bakery, the windows glowing from a welcoming fire lit somewhere inside.
Do. Not. Turn. Around.
The thought was my own - the first moment of clarity I've had all night.
Bogdan, where are you?
YOU ARE READING
On Death's Honor
Fantasy"When you're in a place that darkness thrives, you learn to fear the light." "Why?" "Because the light will kill you faster." ------ For as long as she could remember, Wren has lived a rather unconventional life. She's hunted down trolls, bled out w...
