Her mind blanked.
The idea that he knew about the nightmare was unthinkable, but what other reason did he have to stare at her so intensely?
In the silent, still seconds that followed, Iliana found herself studying Aran for the thousandth time since they'd met. Before, she'd watched him out of curiosity, and admittedly a large amount of animosity. Now, however, she compared him to the living man of Lykos' dream.
Aran's eyes were colder, now. They lacked the twisting emotion that as a human he'd been unable to completely hide. His tanned skin was horribly scarred with deep, tearing marks only visible now because he hadn't bothered to fully tie his shirt. She was certain the living him lacked those markings. The most important detail, however, stole her breath when she realized it.
Physically, Aran was the same age.
Had he not woken her... would Iliana have witnessed his death?
Breaking their mutual stare, Aran's eyes dropped to Iliana's bedroll. He gave a vague wavve to capture her attention, then pointedly gestured towards where her feet would fall. Surprise had her pulling her leg to her chest beneath her cover, holding her anklet without baring it for the reaper to see.
"I don't understand," she lied beneath her breath, hoping not to be heard by the others.
Aran gave an exaggerated sigh. She had the feeling the action was drawn out just for the benefit of ensuring she understood how little he believed her. His hand swept uselessly through the fabric of her cover, before he pointed at her foot once again. She grimaced.
How could he possibly know about Koun's blessing? She'd kept a careful eye on Eumelia during their travels, and she was mostly certain the witch doctor hadn't picked up on the unordinary qualities of Iliana's anklet. If Eumelia, with all her magic, hadn't noticed...why would Aran? As she mulled over the idea, the reaper gave another exaggerated sigh, and she had the distinct impression that she'd be receiving a lecture, or perhaps even an annoyed growl, if she were actually capable of hearing him.
It clicked after a minute of ignoring him.
Perhaps Aran had noticed because it was a dream.
When she was younger, Iliana had taken every opportunity she could to run from her lessons. She'd hated being lectured by tutors who made no secret about their opinions on teaching a former street rat from the bottom up. What she'd needed to learn after entering high society were things other noble daughters had learned long ago. It was something she severely regretted now as she sat, racking her mind for stories of dream magic. Perhaps if she'd paid more attention, she'd have realized the dangers Aran posed earlier. Perhaps it wouldn't have taken a child of death staring her in the face to shake the knowledge loose.
From what little she could recall, while all gods could intrude on dreams, Koun alone had the ability to manipulate them in that manner. After all, the world one's mind went to in sleep was another reality entirely, one originally created for Shinnah and Doroi by Koun. The gods of death and life used the plane for escorting souls, which was why reapers weren't able to interact with the living. They weren't physically here. Some argued this meant that your mind left your body each time you dreamed, which made some paranoid nobility lead research into stopping one's ability to dream in its entirety.
She couldn't remember if it was ever confirmed, or if her tutors even mentioned it, but it was also said all of this was why some people spoke about just knowing when someone passed during the night. Optimists like to believe that reapers would allow you to see your loved ones one last time, giving comfort to the parting soul with a dream that the living would forget come morning.
أنت تقرأ
Siren Song (The Fated #1)
الخيال (فانتازيا)Iliana Katrakis couldn't care less about the will of the gods, and she's certain they feel the same way about her. After all, it's rare for the god-touched to live normal lives--and that's all she wants. Having spent the last three years aboard the...
