Message to the Moon - Book 1: The Forest

Chapter Seven - Memories

"Oh crap." As soon as I realized I was awake, I knew I actually wasn't. I was dreaming again. As relieved as I was to get some sleep, I dreaded what was to follow. I could feel the tension and danger like an unwelcome weight on my chest. It hurt, almost physically.

I think I'm standing in my backyard. My first backyard. There's a tree that scratches at the back of my mind. It's just familiar enough to allow me to vaguely remember climbing it. Of course, I recall it ending in a broken arm. It had frightened my father so much I never so much as thought about climbing it again.

I stood near the back door of the building. It was large and home to many others than just me. Mostly people that my father insisted weren't servants despite them catering to my every need. I hated it and they never accepted the fact that I didn't want to be treated like that until... Until after this memory. I think.

I held my sword in hand and pointed it at my sparring partner. He was my friend. I know that. He insisted I shouldn't consider us friends because when the time came, we'd have to abandon each other. I refused. I loved him.

He held a sword out too, a cocky grin smeared across his face. "Getting tired there, princess?"

"Am not!" Suddenly, as if the memory was catching up to me, I did feel tired. I felt too tired. Much more than I remember when this was happening. Why does my arm hurt? It's not even the one holding my sword. "And don't call me that!"

He tilted his sword up and shifted his stance lower. His expression changed, challenging me. "Make me... princess."

"Hmph. Taunting won't work on me anymore. I've grown immune to your foolish attempts by now!" I stuck my tongue at him and gave my sword a wiggle.

"Oh, it won't, will it?"

"Yep! It looks like you'll have to come at me this time, pretty boy." His already practically black eyes darkened and his grin turned mischievous. Oh no.

"Whatever you say... Sacred and honorable messenger."

I gasped. "You... You jerk face!" Being the idiot I was, I ran at him and swung. He easily blocked my shot, his grin gone.

"If I didn't know better, princess, I'd say you just seriously went to chop my head off."

"Maybe I was!" I recoiled my blade, attempting again and again. Until my arms and legs grew sore and I found it hard to breath. As I caught my breath he took that moment to knock my weapon away. It didn't have time to hit the floor before his swords tip was an inch from my nose.

He spoke after I heard the clang of my blade hitting the ground and the smack of his lips. "Disappointing. There was a moment there I thought you might have actually improved."

"Shut up." I moved his sword away from my face with a finger, giving him the stink eye. "You can seriously be really mean sometimes, you know."

"It's my job to make sure you can survive out there. If it means pulling on strings a friend shouldn't, than I will."

"But you don't mean the things you say. I can tell."

"Oh can you now?"

The dream stuttered and fizzled away. It looked sort of like sand if it were any different colors and then thrown directly into my eyes. It felt like it too.

Images faded back in. At first I thought it was just darkness but I could make out the lines of furniture in my bedroom. My door was cracked open to let a sliver of warm light in. I did that sometimes to remind myself I wasn't alone. Not yet.