I stare at the pages, tracing every line with my eyes, hoping that something magic will happen and they will rearrange themselves into something I can read. Page after page, I do the same thing, and still nothing happens.
It’s a beautiful font. Curls and lines, dashes and dots. I just wish I could understand it. This book has all the answers to who I am. I just know it.
After a while my eyes start to burn, so I close the book and sit it on the chaise and pad over to the bed. When I crawl in, it feels like I’m rolling on a cloud. It’s soft. Majestic. If that’s even a thing.
I roll over to my side, curling into a ball and bring the covers under my chin, and watch the flames of the fire dance. It’s so beautiful. The way it moves and juts into the air. The way the colors meld between yellows, reds, and oranges.
Darkness slowly creeps in and before I know it, I’m spiraling down into the sweet abyss of nothingness.
RUN!
“Run little one. You must get away. They are coming for us.”
“Mama. I can’t. I can’t leave you.”
“You can and you must. You’re the one. You’re the one that will save us all. All of our power, our bloodline. It’s all in you now. You are the future of the fae. You little one.”
“Mama. No,” The warm tears feel like fire against my cold cheek.
“Take her! Get her to Morgai!” Mother commands, and a pair of hands wrap around my stomach and whisk me off the floor. My little hands and feet stretch out, kicking and clawing to get back to her. To get back to them. They are stained red with the blood trickling down my arms.
A crash echoes down the hall as flames engulf the house moments later. The cries of the fae echo through the land as sharp claws hold me in their clutches, and I ascend higher and higher into the sky. The wind grows colder the higher we go.
More harsh.
More angry.
The houses in the little village are nothing more than orange specks on the horizon. Like orange dots scattered across the dark green grass. An arrow flies through the sky, zinging by as we bank hard and to the right.
Wings sound like thunder as they flap harder and harder, pushing us higher and higher.
So cold.
Freezing.
My little body has stopped shaking and darkness creeps in.
A hot fire dances in an orb around me, warming me up. My eyes open, but they’re tired.
“Hold on, little one,” the man’s voice says. Gentle, yet commanding.
The sounds of the waves crashing below are the only noise I hear as the large wings of the dragon glide over the landscape. There’s nothing out here but grass and water, except for a few small houses with smoke billowing out of the top.
“Tired.”
“I know. Just a little further and then you can rest. Rest for a long time.”
“Mama?”
The man doesn’t answer, but his talons grip around me. Not in anger or to punish, but to support. I feel what he feels, his pain. His sadness.
“You will see her again soon, little one. We just need to get you to Morgai.”
“Morgai, the ancess- ancess…”
The man laughs, “Yes. The ancestral burial ground of the true fae. You will be protected there. They won’t be able to hurt you.”
Moonlight shimmers on top of the waves below like snow on a mountain. Ahead is a large body of land jutting out of the ocean, trying to touch the sky.
