The Quest for Normania #1: The Door of Andrios

14. Of the Nightmares that Haunted them

"The world I live in is called Ahala," began Ayesha as she walked back slowly with her guide towards the Fletchers' hut.

"Ahala?" said Cecil incredulously. "What an odd name!"

"Well, it is the name, at any rate. And me, I'm a... er, a royal heir of my kingdom in that world. Like..."

"A princess?" he filled in.

She nodded. "Exactly like a princess. I'm the only daughter of my father and I am to inherit the throne when I come of age. But then... I left, through this ancient portal in my land. I'd always been sure I was cursed – born cursed – because the day I was born, the royal seer had predicated a grave future for me, before she fell into a coma and died. And then, my mother died when I was three years old. And my stepmother always kept me at arm's length. I was convinced I was cursed and that's why people left me. My father, too, never seemed to be around.

"But now, after I met Ashisha, she told me I'd never been cursed. And that in fact, I have some magical power, the nature of which doesn't allow anybody to put curses on me."

Cecil was gaping at her. They had long arrived back at the hut, and had stopped in their tracks at some point, not going in. She could see the shock and fear on his face, and decided it was enough he knew about her. 'Anyway, I didn't promise to tell him everything.'

It was only when another young man popped his head out the door and greeted them did she turned to the hut. Lawrence stood there, his face moulded into a wide grin. Somehow, Ayesha felt calmer looking at him.

"Hello Lawrence," she greeted back. "How long has it been since you came?"

"Just as you two headed out," he replied. "I didn't want to disturb you."

"I wanted to have a bath after a long, long time," she told him. "I hadn't had one since I arrived here, and I suddenly realised that. Have you had any breakfast yet?"

"Yes, yes, I did. Thank you." Lawrence turned his attention to Cecil. "Hey, soldier, what's the matter?" His voice was soft as he addressed the younger man.

Cecil suddenly turned to him, startled. He seemed like he did not know what to say, so Ayesha spoke up:

"I just told him a scary story. Very, very realistic."

Lawrence didn't turn to her, but fixed his eyes on Cecil. "I see. I'm sorry to hear that. Do you want some juice I've been making?" The younger man didn't say anything. "It's cold orange juice."

At this, Cecil did look up. He blinked until he found his voice again and cleared his throat. "A glass wouldn't hurt, I suppose," he muttered.

"That's my soldier!" Lawrence grinned, leading the other man away into the kitchen.

Ayesha was left to her own devices. With a sigh of exhaustion, despite the good exercise she had just moments ago, she found herself back on her bed and drifting off to sleep... 

It was the same dream over and over.

A boy sitting across from her on the bed she now slept on, his eyes shaped like almonds, but coal black rather than brown. He wore a soldier's yellow suit and shining armour, though she somehow didn't think he really was one, but a manifestation due to the dream. He held a staff beside him, one carved of wood and a blade of quick silver inserted at the top edge.

The same stare of anxiety and worry, the searching look, as if he wasn't looking at her, but through her.

When he opened his mouth, she could only imagine what he might have been saying, for no words ever made it out. Likewise, when she opened her mouth to say that she couldn't hear him, no words would come out, either.