Remnants

Chapter Six

| Damian |

--*--

Rhys and I walked along a narrow dirt pathway lined with small glowing crystal that stained the grass and surrounding stone dwellings with a beautiful blend of vivid colors. It was a sight I'd seen countless times, but it never failed to leave me awestruck. In the distance, the soothing chirps of a thousand unseen insects paired with the moon's white glow gave a magical feel to the camp. It somewhat alleviated my fatigue.

I watched as many of the camp's residents blew out their wooden torches that hung beside their doors before retiring into their dwellings for the night. A few others wandered about, conversing, and enjoying the calming thrum of the forest. The joyful laughter of children chasing the flickering lights of fireflies and the faint smell of the ocean drifting on the evening breeze created an atmosphere of glee, and it made me smile.

I exhaled into my palms and rubbed them together. "It's gotten a bit chilly lately," I said softly.

"You won't hear me complaining. It just means no more hot, sticky nights for me," Rhys said with a grin, "I'll finally be able to get some sleep." He paused and his cheerful expression faded as he looked at me. "That reminds me. Has it gotten any better?"

"What?" I pretended not to know what he meant.

He took a quick look around for prying eyes before moving in close and whispering, "You know. The nightmares?"

I gazed down at the dirt pathway and sighed, contemplating whether I should lie or not. "No, they haven't." I decided it wasn't worth lying.

"Why don't you talk to someone about it? What about Raynor? He might know something about the man you keep seeing."

"I don't know," I said reluctantly, "He already has so many things on his plate. I don't want to add to that and have him worrying about me."

I mean, they were only nightmares. Everyone has experienced them sometime in their life. It was normal, and I was sure Raynor would feel the same way.

"I understand what you're saying, but it's only getting worse. And that scar..."

I moved my hand under my sleeve and brushed my fingers over the burn scar that covered a small portion of my left shoulder.

"...you said it hurts every time you get the nightmares," he continued, "That's not normal. And it's reason enough to at least mention something to someone."

"It's not a big deal. Really. Just forget about it."

The scar had been with me for as long as I could remember. I've asked Raynor about it a few times before, but each time I was met with a stern look, as though it was a taboo subject. Ever since then, I decided never to bring it up again and buried my curiosity.

"How could I? It's obviously bothering you, and I wouldn't be a good friend if I just stood around and did nothing."

"They're just nightmares, Rhys. Bad dreams." I appreciated his concern, but he was slowly starting to annoy me.

"This is different, and you know it. You keep saying it's not a big deal, but scars don't grow, Damian. And your scar has gotten a lot bigger since I first saw it." He glared at me. "Raynor should be returning soon. I'm giving you until then to make up your mind, but he needs to know about this. It's fine if you hate me after, but I'm only looking out for you." He reached out and smacked the side of my neck with a smile. "You'll thank me eventually."

I brushed him off. I wasn't sure if I should be frustrated or grateful for his stubbornness. Maybe both.

"Whatever," I murmured.