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Lambent, silver light beamed down, illuminating the planet below with a brilliant glow. Zara had walked this land many times and found the radiant sunlight could be strikingly elegant, yet simulatenously found that on the most part, it was so infuriatingly insufferable.
At present, she was journeying across the land of dazzling white light, though what her destination was, she was not yet certain. A slight breeze caressed her cheeks and she was thankful for the cool, gentle touch - a stark, but refreshing contrast to the boiling rays of sun which radiated down upon her. It caused her brunette locks of hair to float gently behind her and if there were any onlookers, it would have been easy to mistake the girl for an angel with her ethereal essence.
She wore a loose dress which was pristine and as purely white as the snow of Hoth. In the distance, an image piqued Zara's attention, and her dress flapped about her ankles as she broke out into a run. The image of her dashing across this shining land, with her hair rejoicing in the wind and dress billowing behind her, like a river, could have made even Aphrodite jealous.
As she approached the figure who had been so lucky as to be the object of her attention, Zara watched as the blurred shape seemed to increase in sharpness. With each of her footsteps that leaped like a mischievous fay across the sparkling plains beneath her, the unknown person appeared to grow in focus.
Being still some distance away, Zara's eyes could not perfectly decipher this person's identity. Nor even something as small as their species or gender. The sunlight cast its rays ferociously upon the planet and appeared to form a barrier of blinding whiteness, completely obscuring the person of Zara's fascination from view.
Suddenly, she was increasingly aware of the weight of her eyelids and the fading nature of the figure before her. She ran quicker, quicker, a bird on the wing, but they were further, further still. Her eyes fluttered with drowsiness from the heat and as the excruciating light solidified its opaque barrier between her and the stranger, Zara knew that it was hopeless. This was the end. She may as well succumb to it.
☆☆☆
Zara's eyes gently fluttered open and she turned her head to the side, feeling her cool cheek brush softly against her black silk pillow. Soft bedsheets of equally obsidian colour enveloped her slim, pale figure and she pushed them back, as she attempted to readjust to her surroundings. She lifted herself delicately until she was sat in an upright position, her raven tresses pressed against the bed's headboard of burnt umber.
A breathy sigh escaped her rose-dusted lips. The dreams had been getting worse.
That is, if worse were the term. Maybe they were not a bad thing at all.
