| 14 | News

149 28 35
                                    

^     R y k e r   L o r d a i r e  a s  A s h e r  A n g e l  i n  B O O K  1     ^

💮💮💮

The anomalous episode of my blackout was that I usually have nightmares

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

The anomalous episode of my blackout was that I usually have nightmares. However, this time, it was different. I didn't have nightmares. I had . . . some uncanny dreams. Most of them were about my sister. Others were about my father.

I saw my sister sprinting away, pushing her legs forward belligerently. Fear settles on her gracious face. She was holding something in her hand – a dagger. Long, incandescent, startling and mystifying. Running beside her was an oriental man presumably around his early twenties. Both of their clothes were covered with grunge, as if they've been crawling through a fissure for years.

In the next moment, I saw two Demons attacking them. They both killed the oriental man. Aqua cried as the oriental man disappeared in her arms, and she stood up, running away, approaching the sounds of the beach. She collapsed near the soggy sand, and the waters advanced towards her, as if they were urgent and bothered about her. They closed around her, as if they were protecting her, and crashed over her. I watched as the clouded sky brightened with lightning, and the ocean wrenched Aqua further and further away from land, out into the wild oceans and hysterical waves where whales circled around her tenderly. All the way to a place that Starseeds call home on Earth.

My dreams shifted. I was in what seemed to be a cave with stern-closed iron doors. It was chilly, and the ceiling was crawling with spiders.

I saw my father. He was weak, indignant. Panting profoundly as if he's so close to death. Blood mixed with sweat drenched his brows and trickled down his face, dripping to the sandy floor. Chains compactly grasped his wrists and ankles and his neck, holding him place.

"Dad?" I called out. My voice reverberated:

Dad.

Dad.

Dad.

Dad.

Christian Lordaire raised his head feebly. He narrowed his bloodshot eyes into the dimness, trying to spot me. When he did, he croaked, "R-Ryker?"

Ryker?

Ryker?

Ryker?

Ryker?

"Dad!" I tried running towards him, but my feet seemed to be stuck.

"Are . . . are you dreaming?" Dad asked.

"I'm unconscious right now, so yeah. Were you calling me? Is that how I came here in my dreams?"

"No." He looked awful. There were scars tarnishing his face, and blood drying around the corners of his stubble. His clothes were ripped as if wolves tugged on them with their jaws. "That means . . ." he gasped, catching his breath. "That means . . . one of the archangels brought you here."

Starseeds: The Broken-WingedWhere stories live. Discover now