Echo

Chapter 3

It's all dark. Not in the pitch black sense but in the indoor sense. I feel it, that we're somewhere inside. It's kind of a room but I don't see any walls, like it doesn't have any end or something. I look around, everything seems visible, lit up by moonlight even when we're in a room. God, dreams don't make sense.

Opposite of me, there's someone standing, someone with authority. I can't see their face, but I can feel the power radiating off of them.

I begin to look around for papa as I have to talk to him about all of this. As I look around, I see two figures standing at a distance. I squint mu eyes so as to identify who they are, and just as I was was going to ask, one of them faces my way. I freeze in my spot looking at that face.

He doesn't appear in my dreams often, once in a blue moon maybe. I see him turn back to where he was looking before. It's him. Ian. Ian Arden. He is here means the other person has to be uncle Steph. Ian is uncle Steph's son. He is one of the three. One of the only three faces that are a constant in my dreams. The others are always a blur, people who I never remember. Always in the background, never the focus.

I'm brought back to the moment by a booming voice echoing in the large, seemingly stone room.

"Step forward. Ian Arden", the voice demanded.

My gaze shifts back to where Ian and uncle Steph are standing. His greenish hazel eyes seem to shine in the dark room, his light brown hair messy. The shadows in the room work wonders on his sharp jaw and his cheekbones become more evident.

With an expressionless face, he moves forward, breaking me out of my trance. I shake my head lightly to clear my head of these thoughts; I don't even know why I was observing him so meticulously. I've never done that before.

"Cut a gash on the palm of your hand to prove your loyalty", the voice demanded in an indifferent tone.

With a shocked expression and furrowed eyebrows, I look back to where Ian is. I can't seem to read his expression, I never have. I don't know why this is happening or who this man is, demanding Ian to cut his own hand, but this whole situation is preposterous. How did we even end up in this situation? This is what I hate the most about dreams, you don't even have an explanation as to why you even are where you are.

The well built man thrusts the sword forward in Ian's direction. I stand still trying to make sense of what's happening in front of me.

I look as Ian takes another step forward and stretches his hand so as to reach the sword.

I don't know what took over me, but within the blink of an eye, I take hurried steps towards them. The logical part of my brain told me to take the sword and throw it away considering the ridiculousness of this situation, but I guess that part has already retired for the day.

What I did next even surprised me but I somehow felt no control over the situation. Before Ian could wrap his hand around the sword, I curled my fingers around the sharp sword and felt the sting going up my arm. Trickles of bood ran down my fingers and on the ground. I had pressed my hand hard enough to cut a long gash and thus the blood continued flowing.

For a few moments, all I could hear was the sound of the droplets of blood meeting the ground. Looking up, I saw the blank face of the man and a shocked and confused one of uncle Steph. I then faced Ian to see a hint of surprise and something else in his eyes, that I didn't recognise. Concern?

Taking a step backwards, I uncurled my fingers from the sword and clenched my fist in hopes that the pain will subside and the flow of the blood will subdue.

I weirdly felt dad's presence but as I looked around the room, I saw no one. Focusing my attention to the situation at hand again, I felt everything getting blurry and hazy by the second.

Sighing, I close my eyes and relax my body, anticipating what I know comes further.