He could hear her again.
His eyes darted around the vast hallway, peering into the darkness surrounding him like a shroud. He shivered, just a little, shifting around nervously in the increasing cold. Her soft sobs echoed around the perimeter like the pattering of tiny furry animal feet creeping...creeping closer...creeping inward. Shaking visibly, his hands fumbled with the lighter in his pocket. Light, he needed light, surely they would go...surely she would leave. The darkness was a mouth trying to swallow him; he had never been so isolated. So alone. Completely alone in fact, no one to save him now, no one to keep her from him. It was so cold, he needed flame, heat, light, safety---
"Please sir, I beg of you--"
He never even saw her arrive.
A pair of pale hands tugged at his sleeve, emanating cold. He could feel her cold seeping into him, freezing him still, making him helpless, taking his power. And her eyes...those cold, sapphire eyes...
"This...is...mine..."
His first scream froze and shattered before it even hit the air.
With a gasp, the man known as Dilandau Albatou was instantly awake. For a while, he could only stare wildly, feeling the dark room press at him from all sides, mind racing frantically. Then he began to hear the warm, familiar sounds of the fortress around him: hull creaking softly, supports groaning, levistones humming their strange melody. Panic residing, he could once again think rationally. And then he knew: he'd had this dream before.
It was always the same when she came pleading to him: the same tear-filled eyes, the same weak, watery gasps for help, the same pleading for something he couldn't give her. Dilandau sneered. Of course it was only a dream: it was so very familiar, even routine...
Then why was he so frightened?
Even as he berated himself, he rose from his bed and reached for the light switch, breathing just that much easier as the darkness fled in terror. He reached for the overcoat still draped on his chair, and wrapped himself in that familiar, protective armor. Flames couldn't burn through that specially treated clothing; swords couldn't pierce the reinforced plates near his neck. Arrows would embed themselves in the thick material and get lost in the folds. His dragonslayers were right next to him, just one room over...nothing could get to him. And his sword...His sword was still on him, he realized belatedly: he must have been far more tired than he thought to sleep with it next to him. Still...
Ever so quietly, Dilandau padded to the divider separating his quarters from the barracks of his dragonslayers. He snorted, somewhat disgusted, as he peered into the adjacent room: how pathetically vulnerable they were! They all looked so very defenseless...yet content, curled snugly in their respective pallets; Chesta almost seemed to be laughing in his sleep. Dilandau's fists clenched impulsively, and he snorted. The infuriating thought crossed his mind that they might all be caught sleeping whilst someone crept into HIS room. He felt an overwhelming need to HIT them, smack each and every single peaceful, angelic, little face...he would teach them to sleep so peacefully when they should be protecting their superiors! Then reason caught hold and shook him vigorously. Of course they should be sleeping-- the night guard was on, the doors were locked, and the fortress was secured. He would need them tomorrow, when battles might be fought, and he would need them to be well rested.
Still...
Slightly peeved, Dilandau returned to his own bed.
"Double training drills tomorrow for everyone, that should about do it."
Strangely comforted, he drifted off to sleep, all memory of the nightmare erased.
Suggestions/comments/flames? Please R&R, opinions wanted!
(^----Dilly will be happy to deal with the flames ;)
~~Split Infinity
His eyes darted around the vast hallway, peering into the darkness surrounding him like a shroud. He shivered, just a little, shifting around nervously in the increasing cold. Her soft sobs echoed around the perimeter like the pattering of tiny furry animal feet creeping...creeping closer...creeping inward. Shaking visibly, his hands fumbled with the lighter in his pocket. Light, he needed light, surely they would go...surely she would leave. The darkness was a mouth trying to swallow him; he had never been so isolated. So alone. Completely alone in fact, no one to save him now, no one to keep her from him. It was so cold, he needed flame, heat, light, safety---
"Please sir, I beg of you--"
He never even saw her arrive.
A pair of pale hands tugged at his sleeve, emanating cold. He could feel her cold seeping into him, freezing him still, making him helpless, taking his power. And her eyes...those cold, sapphire eyes...
"This...is...mine..."
His first scream froze and shattered before it even hit the air.
With a gasp, the man known as Dilandau Albatou was instantly awake. For a while, he could only stare wildly, feeling the dark room press at him from all sides, mind racing frantically. Then he began to hear the warm, familiar sounds of the fortress around him: hull creaking softly, supports groaning, levistones humming their strange melody. Panic residing, he could once again think rationally. And then he knew: he'd had this dream before.
It was always the same when she came pleading to him: the same tear-filled eyes, the same weak, watery gasps for help, the same pleading for something he couldn't give her. Dilandau sneered. Of course it was only a dream: it was so very familiar, even routine...
Then why was he so frightened?
Even as he berated himself, he rose from his bed and reached for the light switch, breathing just that much easier as the darkness fled in terror. He reached for the overcoat still draped on his chair, and wrapped himself in that familiar, protective armor. Flames couldn't burn through that specially treated clothing; swords couldn't pierce the reinforced plates near his neck. Arrows would embed themselves in the thick material and get lost in the folds. His dragonslayers were right next to him, just one room over...nothing could get to him. And his sword...His sword was still on him, he realized belatedly: he must have been far more tired than he thought to sleep with it next to him. Still...
Ever so quietly, Dilandau padded to the divider separating his quarters from the barracks of his dragonslayers. He snorted, somewhat disgusted, as he peered into the adjacent room: how pathetically vulnerable they were! They all looked so very defenseless...yet content, curled snugly in their respective pallets; Chesta almost seemed to be laughing in his sleep. Dilandau's fists clenched impulsively, and he snorted. The infuriating thought crossed his mind that they might all be caught sleeping whilst someone crept into HIS room. He felt an overwhelming need to HIT them, smack each and every single peaceful, angelic, little face...he would teach them to sleep so peacefully when they should be protecting their superiors! Then reason caught hold and shook him vigorously. Of course they should be sleeping-- the night guard was on, the doors were locked, and the fortress was secured. He would need them tomorrow, when battles might be fought, and he would need them to be well rested.
Still...
Slightly peeved, Dilandau returned to his own bed.
"Double training drills tomorrow for everyone, that should about do it."
Strangely comforted, he drifted off to sleep, all memory of the nightmare erased.
Suggestions/comments/flames? Please R&R, opinions wanted!
(^----Dilly will be happy to deal with the flames ;)
~~Split Infinity