A woman.
She appeared above the scene, a disembodied apparition like me, but unlike me, she could intervene. As in the last nightmare, she wore deep crimson and gold robes, the fabrics looking heavy and the colors vivid and rich despite the ethereal nature of the vision. Her hair was dark, arranged in an elaborate style, and everything about her spoke of royalty and power.
She couldn't be Alar's mother as I had assumed when I'd first seen her in the previous nightmare. With the vision sharpened to crystalline clarity by Morgateth's power, I could see her more clearly, and she was much too young to be the Queen of Catonia.
Nevertheless, her presence changed everything.
The wind that had caught Veynathei shifted. The gust that had dislodged Alar weakened. The moment of disaster bent around this woman, finding a different path.
In this version, Alar's hands found the straps, Veynathei corrected in time, and they flew safely through the gap.
The woman faded, and so did the vision.
I woke up gasping and bolted upright.
Alar was awake instantly. "What's wrong?" His hand shot for the dagger he kept under his pillow, and he was out of bed and crouching in a fighting stance, naked as the day he was born. It might have looked comical if I weren't so shaken.
Realizing that there were no assassins to kill, he turned back to me. "What happened?"
I shook my head.
He dropped the dagger on the bed and put his hands on my shoulders. "Look at me, Kailin."
I couldn't.
The vision was still burning behind my eyes, the crack of impact still echoing in my skull, the feeling of the bond snapping still resonating through my body like the aftershock of an explosion.
"Kailin." His hands moved to my face, cupping my cheeks, forcing me to focus. "Look at me."
I looked. Blue eyes, wide with concern. Alive. Warm. His heart beating beneath the hand I pressed against his chest.
I burst into tears.
He held me, his arms tight around my shaking body, murmuring words I couldn't process. I clung to him with a desperation that must have frightened him, my fingers digging into his back, my face pressed against his neck, sobbing uncontrollably.
A loud knock sounded on the door. "Kailin?" Shovia's voice was sharp with alarm. "Are you okay?"
"She's okay," Alar called back. "She had a nightmare. Go back to bed."
A pause. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Retreating footsteps. The sound of a door closing.
Alar held me until the sobs subsided into shuddering breaths, stroking my hair with a patience that made me want to cry all over again.
"Was it the same dream?" he asked.
I nodded against his neck.
"How did I die this time?"
"You fell off your dragonia." My voice came out ravaged, barely recognizable. "But it was so real, Alar. Every detail was so sharp. Morgateth's power amplified it." I choked on the words.
"In what way?"
I pulled back enough to look at him, and the sight of his face, alive and concerned and so heartbreakingly precious, made the words catch in my throat.
