A Court of War and Sacrifice

30. Meeting in Dreams

The artwork above is not mine.

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She was standing atop a stone mesa, staring at a desecrated battlefield down below. Hideous creatures made of smoke and obsidian ravaged the screaming Fae. She couldn't move to help them. She couldn't move to cover her ears. She just couldn't move.

Creatures filled the air, battling with winged Fae: Illyrians, Peregryns, and another kind she didn't recognize. She saw red, blue, and amber siphons. Swords clashed. The dead fell, with wings curled around them, both beautiful and grotesque. She still couldn't move.

A tall male strode onto the battlefield, his very presence emanating ancient power. She knew this male, somehow. She'd seen him before. He paused before her family. Or, most of her family. Two of them still fought overhead.

The male waved a hand and four females materialized. Each bore an ancient and terrible artifact. Her brother threw a shield over their family as the female wearing a crown lifted her hand and pointed at them.

The masked female curled her fingers over the earth. Unearthly screams filled the air as bony fingers tore free of the ground. The dead rose, wailing in agony and despair.

The female carrying the harp plucked a chord. Time rewound itself around the dead, and their flesh reformed. The undead now stood before her family. The ancient male pointed at her family, and her brother's shield shattered.

The undead descended and her family cut through them. The fourth female set to work. A stone glowed around her neck and as she touched the fallen warriors, they rose once more. The dark one threw back his head and laughed.

She tried to move, but was still frozen in place on the mesa. The undead swarmed her family and their blows rang true. She screamed, watching them become nothing more than mutilated corpses. The male's black gaze found her.

In a heartbeat, he was at her side. He tilted his head and lifted a hand to her chin. "Soon," he whispered. "Soon."

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Seren woke, a scream tearing itself from her lips. Azriel bolted upright, Truth-Teller already in his grasp. He scanned the room, then faced her. "What is it?" She couldn't speak. Azriel took in her shaking hands. He set his blade aside and pulled her against him, stroking her hair soothingly. "What did you see?"

Seren shook her head and kept her eyes wide open. She knew what she'd see if she closed them. "I...I don't..."

"Was it your father?" She shook her head. "Beron?" No, again. "Do you want to show me?"

"No," she whispered.

She couldn't show him that dream. It was so horrible. It would worry him. The shadows drifted up her arms and brushed against her cheek, offering comfort. A few of them curled over Azriel's ear. He tensed, but said nothing.

Seren blinked and a few tears dripped down her cheeks. Azriel kissed her forehead and continued to stroke her hair. He folded his wings over them, until the only light visible was from the flame on his arm. Seren summoned her fire and let it flicker around her body.

"Are you all right?" Azriel asked. Concern reflected in his hazel eyes.

"It was just a dream," she murmured. "I can't really remember it now."

"You can't remember it?"

"It's blurry. I don't really know what happened in it. It was...horrible."