My mother stands before me once again in the misty field. I hear a train approaching in the distance.
"Acilya, your father is in danger, he doesn't have much time—"
The train is coming closer. I can see it now, coming up over the hill.
"What do you mean? You told me before, but does that mean he is alive?"
The train is halfway here.
"You need to help him. He is closer than you think."
Her cryptic answers aren't helping.
"Now go, Acilya—"
She takes a few swift steps toward me and pushes me onto the train as it passes.
My eyelids fly open. If I am to trust that it was actually my mother speaking to me and not my own subconscious, I think that my father is alive.
My book is on the floor. I carefully remove my sleeping kitten from my lap, who I have still not decided on a name for. I reach down, pick up the book, and stand, stretching my aching limbs. What did she mean, Your father is closer than you think? How am I even supposed to find him when I can't even find my own knife? This idea compels me to abandon my book on my bedside table and stride down the hallway.
I stand outside Adrian's office door, preparing to knock, then stop myself. I can't be irrational and make decisions before I think them through. So I force myself to wait, loitering around the hallway for what feels like hours before I hear his door open. I can't get caught this time. I slip inside and open the drawer where the stone was, hoping to see it, but nothing is there. Even when I reach into the back of the drawer, the stone is not there. I exit the room before Adrian catches me trespassing, cursing myself for not going back to his office sooner. I know I couldn't risk it then, since if he caught me again so soon he would suspect that I was up to something, but it still stings to know I was so close.
Especially when, every other second, I wonder why I am still here. I know now that the royals killed my parents, and the prospect of revenge seems more like something I could do to ease my own guilt and sadness rather than honor their memories. Or, my mother's memory, if I am to believe that my father is alive.
My father is alive. One of the people I wished had survived every day. I wished he was in my life since I knew so little about him. I remembered so little. I know I can't get my hopes up, that everything could have only been a dream, but I can't help but feel a new motivation come to me. I need to venture into the dungeons again, but first, I need to find Fallon. Personal attachments aside, I don't trust anyone else to go below the royal grounds with me. Since it is lunchtime, I assume he will be near the dining hall with the other servants, and I arrive there within a few minutes.
I see him, near the far end of the atrium. Not paying attention to anything around me, my vision locks on his slim figure. So when a cold hand grips my arm, drawing me to a halt, I whirl, ready to take down my attacker. Then I quickly claim that I was surprised, greeting Harlow. He's sitting alone and motions for me to sit with him. My vision lingers on Fallon, though. I can't help but—
Nevermind. I pull my eyes away, shaking my head to regain my senses.
Harlow smiles, a broad, kind, grin. He's the kind of person that can make friends with anyone he meets because he is so amiable and funny.
"So, how have things been, Acilya?" He gives me a secret smirk, raising an eyebrow. I lean in, confused.
"Good, I guess," I give him a polite response. I don't know what's going on.
He nods, shaking his ringlets so they don't block his eyes. I never noticed the sparse freckles over his nose and cheeks. Cute.
"So are you going to eat... or?"
YOU ARE READING
A Shattered Dawn
Fantasy"Who would you like to die for tonight?" Acilya Niehdre did everything to survive after she was left on a moving train in the middle of the Celestial realm, Genia. As a half Night Angel, this is not where she belongs, but she forges a life of her ow...
