Balance of the Skies (bxb)

CHAPTER 3

Lorien sat up in bed, heart pounding, beads of sweat breaking out on his skin and dripping down his neck. He knew what time it was, yet he looked at the clock anyway.

1:23am

He tried to calm his breathing, hand on his heart, which was still beating furiously within his rib cage.

"Lorien, what's wrong?" his grandmother stood in the doorway. Had she heard him? Had he cried out loud?

"It's the dream Grandmama. I'm fine now."

"May I come in?"

He realised that she never walked into his room without asking. She had taught him everything he knew – love, respect, courtesy, privacy. He owed her so much.

"Yes, of course Grandmama." He swung his legs to the side and patted the bed next to him, where his grandmother sat. She looked at him expectantly.

"I finally looked into the mirror Grandmama," he whispered awkwardly. He heard her sharp intake of breath yet she remained seated there, waiting.

"I thought I would see my face, but it wasn't... there was this boy with eyes so bright... I don't think I ever saw eyes that shine so brightly. It was almost like they were reflecting the moon's rays, like, like.... moonbeams were shooting out of his eyes and.... Grandmama?"

"Yes, Lorien. I'm listening."

"The boy had silver hair."

When he felt he was calm enough to lie down again, his grandmother lovingly tucked him in, kissed his forehead and shuffled out. But he could not sleep, so he got up again and walked to his window. A light rain was drizzling down, yet he still opened the window to let the cool night air in.

Lorien felt guilty. He had never hidden anything from his grandmother before, yet he did not tell her everything that happened in his dream this time.

Again, he was gliding down the corridor, through the soft curtains, engulfed in the sweet scent of morning dew, strawberries and cinnamon. Yet something felt different and he could not quite grasp what it was. He reached the wall and once again, looked at the mirror, at the little moons surrounding it, and that was when he realised.

There was a whisper, a faint breath that he mistook for the breeze at first. Yet, as he reached out to touch the glistening moons, he heard it again.

Lorien...

He froze and that is when he looked in the mirror and saw the silver-haired boy looking at him. That is when he felt ice cold fingers clutch around his heart.

Lorien, come to me...

was breathed into his ear, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end...

He shuddered even now and decided to close the window. Yet, he knew what he had to do, what he needed to do to get rid of the restlessness and fear (?) he felt within him. He prepared the sketch pad and pencils and began to draw fervently, in concentration.

Two doors away, in her own room, his grandmother was also looking out of the window, up at the cloudy sky. There was no sign of the moon this time and that gave her comfort as silent tears fell down her lined cheeks.

Lorien took a deep breath and looked at the finished portrait. His critical self was not entirely satisfied with the end result, yet this was the best he could do at the moment. The resemblance was definitely there, so was the shade of the boy's hair. Yet, he felt he did not capture the look in the boy's eyes. His drawing illustrated a glassy, almost blank stare, but the boy in his dream had a glacial look, even though his eyes were almost like... like...

He could not find words to describe the colour, nor the look that those eyes had, nor could he explain the icy fear he felt when the boy had looked at him.