The Halo Of Vakh (BOOK 1)

BURN THE PLAINS

⚠️ Violence against children. It's only a line but if such themes trouble you, then skip a line or two after it says "Her head spun."  ⚠️

Joseryn faded between darkness and dreams, lost herself to the silence of the mountains and the obsidian of unconsciousness before getting plunged into the brightness of a field, lined with sunset tulips, her feet dipped into a thin mist and grey eyes and dark hair flickering in and out of her vision. She was too tired.

A warm hand on Joseryn's forehead made her eyes open. Her vision was a blur and all she saw was a mass of grey and white, jumbling into one so that she had trouble making sense of what stood around her. She tried to move. She couldn't. Her head felt heavy on her neck, as if the hair hanging limp and laden with icicles that clung to her head like crystal ornaments, was as heavy as a log. Her vision swam once and her throat burned. She couldn't feel her lips. She couldn't feel her hands and she couldn't feel her feet. Soaked through with cold and ice, she tried to make sense of the scene before her.

"Here!"

She knew that voice. Her mind had coiled itself into a thousand knots.

"Bring me blankets! Somebody get the water! Move faster you jackdaws!"

Joseryn tried to speak. The words wouldn't come. She was floating over clouds. Disconnected. Her head swam. She tried to lift her head and open her eyes completely but her body seemed to have a mind of its own. She was cold. Too cold. The hand on her face left, and she tried to chase after its warmth. She felt a damp chill on her face. Had she fallen over? Where was she?

People talked around her, shuffling around, shouting and yelling. Something warm covered her and her head swam once again. She let herself fall beneath the clouds.

She swam in the fields, feet caressing the golden grass. She thought she heard someone call her name. Saw the obscured man once again. She wanted to call out. The scent of flowers and ash swept strong in the air. She knew it was a dream. It was a lonely dream, she thought. Calm, perhaps, with the neverending blooms and music of birds high in the air, but it was forlorn. It faded into dark.

Consciousness returned its golden light to her after minutes, hours, days, months. She could not tell. Something gold floated over her head. She tried to reach for it but her arms were too heavy. She mumbled. Her lips cracked and hurt. The jagged sound that left her lips, scratched at her throat. The gold disappeared. There came a shuffling and then there was water and there was tranquillity in the sweet liquid trailing down her mouth. She tried to speak again.

A gentle pressure fell on her forehead. Warmth spread across her. The weight was gone as quickly as it came. She heard something creak. Then came the voices.

She could not make out the words. She recognized one of them. The name sat at the tip of her tongue and yet she could not place it. She wanted to call out to the person beside her. Thank them for their kindness. But her mind was too tired. She let herself fall asleep again.

When Joseryn finally felt the energy return to her limbs, she shot up like a trapping net, the memories tumbling through her mind like a hoard of wild bison, stampeding over each other. She scrambled on the blinding white sheets and feather soft mattress, swinging her legs off, her hair falling in front of her face.

"We were afraid we were going to lose you."

Cygnus' voice made her whirl around. Relief went through her like a shard and she almost keeled over. Cygnus was alive. He seemed tired and pale. The hollows under his eyes and over his cheeks made him seem a breath away from toppling over. But he was alive. And that was all that mattered.