Witt Will Not Save You (Adventure and Romance)

Part 11

That night Maive wrestled and tossed around in her sleep, Harlen the Superior had shut her back inside that room with the stained glass window. She was certainly not used to the endless rocking of the large ship. It sent her head spinning with dreams of her floating in the middle of the sea on small plank of wood. In the dream she called out helplessly as she sat adrift a sea of loneliness with not a soul it seemed inside her dream world. Wave after wave crashing at her side pulling her deeper and deeper until she was drowning in a pit of her own thoughts. Maive now steeped in a hot sweat sat up panting and wincing. She lifted a hand to her forehead and surveyed the dark room.

Nightmares were quiet uncommon for Maive to experience, she up until now had taken residence in a small shack hidden within the trees just past her village and always slept soundly with the weirdest dreams she had being when she turned into some sort of nymph. No one had discovered it because the village people were too cowardly to trek the steep gravel and winding rocks the lead to it, they had no means to. The only reason she herself found it was cause she would love to venture through the woods collecting rocks and oddly shaped leaves. Every time Maive trekked a new path she would spill sand along the ground to mark the way she had been so she never got lost. Maive was quiet resourceful with things like that, every meal and every thing she possessed she either stole, hunted or foraged herself.

For the rest of the night she stayed awake and stared out that small window and wondered what road lay ahead of her, perhaps the most dangerous path she would ever take.