Rain is skipping on my shoulders and rolling down my night black hair. A sharp wind rushes past me and a bone chilling shiver snakes down my spine. Looking up, there are thunderous gray clouds hovering, dancing to the downhearted song of the sky; each drop calling out its own story. The dirt is bathed with crimson blood. The water falling from above merges with the wine-red essence. It's slowly washing away, but it shouldn't—it should stay as reminder of what happened. What did happen? Why can't I remember? I search harder in all the crevices of my mind, yet nothing surfaces. Pushing further, I kneel on the cold, wet earth with my hands to my ears. The shrieking of the silence swallowing me… the cry of the tears… is falling like the rain… I release my head—I realize my hands are covered in the same blood dripping from the trees.

Why?

I'll look to the horizon to see a young man who appears to be little older than I, hunched over in the distance. With a closer look, he seems vaguely familiar, but from where do I recognize him? I stumble over to him and try to speak, but the words get tangled in my throat. He looks up and catches my gaze. My first instinct is to turn away and look down, but his eyes, they are emerald green, glinting like gems and I can't break away. Instead, I stand up straighter and shift closer. My hand rises slowly and involuntarily and I run my fingers through his soft, golden hair. His cheeks are drenched. It's not just from the rain. Like an emerald emits a flaming radiance, I could see the same fire burning in his stark green eyes. My thumb brushes below his eye tenderly to wipe away the tears that stain his beautiful face.

Suddenly, he draws back and pushes me behind him. I hear the hushed lunge of a swift, masked man dressed completely in black as he lunges toward the man who wields a sword in defense. I turn my head and my stomach flips as I hear a sickening crack, then, a heart piercing scream of pain as I feel something damp spray on the flesh of my arm.

Quickly, I snap my head around and see the young man lying in the dirt drenched in a pool of mud and blood. I want to cry out but I still am not able to. Words in my throat falter but I no longer cared as I fall to his side and gently pull him up against my body for support. He is limp but heavy and I struggle a little as I embrace him. I cradle his head in my arms. There is blood trickling down his scalp in a thin, fragile stream. I delicately wipe away the crimson dripping from the crevice between his lips with my fingertips. The pain I feel in my gut forces me to clench my teeth although I know that it is nothing compared to what he is experiencing. But I don't cry. I need to maintain my composure. Instead, I whisper soothingly to him and beg him to stay awake and with me. His breathing is shallow and unsteady while his lungs gasp for air. His stunning eyes are falling in and out of focus but they finally fix on mine as he says, "Rebuild our kingdoms."

Bile rises in my throat and I look away. I don't want him to see the tears rising behind my eyes. I look to the dependable gray rain to wash away the tears I had shed. Blood is everywhere. It is on the earth. It is on my hands. The rain washes it all away but the image of blood remains, gnawing, in my mind.

Horrified at the reflection, I squeeze my eyes shut and try to force it out of my head. It hurts so much in my chest that I scream fiercely to myself. This can't be true. I will scream and scream in my mind until everything is better. I don't even notice that I dropped the now motionless corpse to the ground and that he is no longer breathing. Still, I scream.

Then, abruptly, the scene fades and I find myself screaming out loud. It was the dream that visits me every night. Many times, I had refused to go to sleep in fear of seeing those eyes again. Of course, that was never possible because I was always too tired to stay awake all night. However, from all the experience I've had with terrifying nightmares, I scream and scream with my eyes shut until I awake. This is the one way I have discovered to be the most effective although it isn't the most pleasant one.

Sweat rests on my forehead in precious little beads that I wipe away with the palm of my hand. I look around the room for some figure of comfort to calm my tension. There are all assortments of random items scattered all around my room, a massive mirror being one of them. Don't get me wrong; it's not that I'm vain. It's just a form of reassurance that I know myself and always will. After scanning the numerous objects resting on my shelves, my eyes fall on a painting of a falcon soaring through thunderous storm clouds. The painting itself is about two feet high and three feet wide. There is no sign of land from this view, as the entire canvas is covered in tousling gale clouds, raging shades of gray tearing through the darkened sky. As there seems to be no sign of light, there is a falcon amongst the shadow; a swift, golden, falcon, ricocheting through the storming winds like a small fragile sailboat lost at sea, just barely hanging on to life at the surface of the massive, salty waves. Its great wings are spread out with feathers flying in every direction. The emerald eyes I see in my dreams are present here, as well. Those heart piercing green eyes of the falcon glint and are the only signs of hope. It was a gift from the prince of a neighboring kingdom for my sixteenth birthday. When I look at it, it brings the distinct sensation of ascending through the clouds, with the wind. Closing my eyes, I feel the breeze beneath my arms and suddenly have the irrational urge to go flying. When I go flying, I feel like a small sail boat, lost at a vast, infinite blue sea. I sit there for several minutes, imagining.

There is a tap on the door.

I promptly break myself out of the tranquil trance of flight and answer to the knock.

"Who is it?"

"Rae, it's me, Gi."

"You may enter."

As Gi entered the room, I hastily fixed myself up—or at least to a presentable state. My silky yet knotted black hair I patted down to appear less tangled and quickly tied it behind my neck. It's actually quite amusing how I was named after my hair—my raven black hair. I started spelling my name as "Raevyn" instead of "Raven" because personally, I think it makes it more refined and slightly less like the name of a bird. I don't have a last name. I imagine one could say it is "Fly" or "Flight" or something like that. In our region, a family name is more like a family "ability" that is passed down the generations. It's not something you can choose. As you probably figured out by now, my family has the power of flight. Nearly every one of the abilities possessed by individuals is unique to a certain blood line.

"Negotiations with the Wruai family take place in a week." Gi's calm tone did not veil his unease as well as he had hoped. Maybe that was because we had been best friends ever since he had arrived three years ago. At that time, he claimed to have no memory of his past or his line of ability. Requesting to be a member of the Royal Sentry at the age of sixteen, he was instantly accepted for his remarkable combat skills. Now, he's my main body guard.

"Yes, I am aware of that," I say coldly. I've been angry at him for the entire day. I think I have bad memory because I forgot why already.

"Rae—I…" He glances at me warily as he stumbles over thoughts, "I'm—I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry for taking your mother's side on the decision to double your guards for the duration of that day."

Oh, so that was it.

"I'm just concerned about what could and might happen at the meeting. It's for—"

"—my own good." I've already heard the same thing from countless people enough for a lifetime. It's like listening to a broke record player.

"Please just try to understand.

"Yes, but—Stop looking at me like that! You know we are just worried about you."

"Stop treating me like a child, Evengi," I say with a severe glare of annoyance. At that, Gi winced a little. Evengi is his full name and he knows that I'm serious whenever I address him by that name, "I'm not young anymore. You know as well as I do that we are of the same age.

"Please return to your post, now. I need to get my rest."

"Okay, I'll leave."

Gi stands up and is halfway out the door.

"Gi…"

He turns around, "Yeah?"

"I forgive you."

"Thank you, your highness," he says with a mocking tone as he leans over and gives me a friendly hug. I feel the warmth of his moist breath on the back of my neck and close my eyes for a second.

I smile lightly, he quietly shuts the door and I slouch a little, listening for his footsteps to fade into absolute silence before I collapse on my fluffy pillow and drift back into sleep. I dream of flying through the night sky and weaving through the colossal, thriving trees of the forests south of Quiore. I sleep peacefully the rest of the night. There are no more nightmares.