The Fanged Throne

Chapter 19

In the dark, over a hundred miles away and across the barren desert, Thayer awoke with a gasp. His entire body was covered in a thick layer of sweat, which was rich and stank. He sat upon the thin cloth he used as a bed, deep in the forest.

He had had the strangest dream. He had dreamt about the small blonde girl, Elora. His mind was still fuzzy, unable to remember the dream clearly. Yet he could there was a figure, clothed in darkness, both familiar and yet unfamiliar, a stranger. Thayer now remembered they had stood in a vast darkness, no walls or roof. Just darkness. The floor had rippled underneath their feet, dark thick liquid swallowed their legs. Thayer was sure he could feel something moving in the water, it pulsed and slithered against the tide.

Elora lay in the centre, her white hair glowing in the dark, calling to him. He had tried to move but his legs sank further into the water, like quicksand. The figure stood above her, something silver glinted in their hand. Thayer watched in frozen horror as the hand came down over and over again, the darkness turning a hazy red.

After what felt like an eternity, the figure stopped and the haze cleared, Elora was gone. The water had begun to dissolve, and his legs freed, the figure turned to him and their hood fell away revealing their face. Before Thayer could cry out in shock he awoke, the face forgotten, hidden away in his mind.

Even though he could not remember the face, he knew, he knew deep inside his bones, that Elora was in trouble. Without wasting anytime, he got up and swung his satchel over his shoulder, making his way back the way he came.