Though really, a nap sounded like the most brilliant idea in the world.
And with this giant cyborg by her side, who would mess with them?
* * *
A little boyplayed with his toy spaceship on his front porch.
Eleanor walked up to him.
"Hello."
"Hi," he said, but he didn't look at her. He kept playing with his spaceship, flying it around and making laser-shooting noises.
"Do you want to play?" she asked.
The boy shook his head as he adjusted the guns on his toy.
Eleanor looked around. There were other ships and toy planets all around him. "I can play. I can be some of the other things." She reached for one of the toy planets. It was a pretty one with stripes, huge, like a gas giant.
There were cracks in it, lines that crisscrossed the painted stripes like someone tried to break it open once.
But it held itself together.
It had soul...
"No, give that back," the boy cried out.
"What? It's just a planet."
"It's supposed to be mine!"
A beam of light came from the sky, and it flashed in her eye.
She dropped the toy planet.
The sphere shattered into pieces. The ray of light shined on the broken pieces.
"I'm sorry," Eleanor said. "I broke your planet."
The boy shrugged. "I was going to destroy it anyway."
This time he did look at her.
It was her father's eyes.
Eleanor awoke with a gasp.
She started to sit up, but she felt restraint across her. Almost immediately, she tried to fight against the weight of the bonds. Her eyes didn't want to focus at first. She resisted because she had to get up. She had to--
"Shh, Princess," Jedriek whispered. "Shh."
Her heart raced, and her eyes finally were able to focus in the dark room. She realized she was in the medical unit with Jedriek. The lights were low, but there was a faint glow around the room that kept just enough illuminated so she could make out the silhouettes
Jedriek held her and kept her safe. His big arm was the restraint.
He stroked her head. "Shh. It is well. It was a dream. You are safe."
She wasn't so sure about that last part. She shook her head. "It was a dream, but there was a message in it that I needed to hear," she said. Why she knew that, she didn't understand, but it was just the way she was. Ever since her mother had died, the ability got stronger. She never really talked about how her dreams could tell her things. The older she got, the more intense the answers were. Many times, she'd been able to make critical decisions because of them.
