So, I'm back already. I really like this story, I think it can go somewhere. Oh what am I saying? Enough with the sappy lappy!
Evergreendusk : Thanks for the tip, I'll remember that!
This one is, well… You'll see.
Takes place six years from Fall of the Beasts.
Everything was hazy. Conor felt like he was walking on air. Briggan stood beside him, staring up with big blue eyes. He saw nothing but white. Tons and tons of white. Briggan suddenly started whimpering. The world started to take on color, dark colors. There were grays and blacks and browns. Then Conor knew where he was. Everything started to click in his mind. He was in Sadre. The place where…
No… He thought, eyes widening in shock. He felt a little dizzy. It seemed real now, even though he knew there was no way he could be here. This can't be. We… We escaped this horror! I must be dreaming, or something… Then Briggan growled, snapping Conor out of his thoughts. He saw blood… Bloody foot-prints and he felt the need to run. Run as fast as he could muster. He couldn't let whatever made those foot-prints catch him. It would cost him his life. But he didn't move an inch. He was frozen in place by fear. Briggan suddenly raced off, in the direction of the foot-prints.
"Briggan, no!" Conor screamed. For some reason, it took a lot of effort to say that. Conor chased his wolf, coming to a halt when he saw where he ended up. He was in a room made of stone, with a person standing in the middle. Zerif, holding a knife colored in red with blood, stood in the middle of the disturbing room.
"Why, who is it? It's the person we've been waiting for. Isn't that right, Wyrm?" The oily man said, smirking wickedly. No… Not again… Conor looked around, seeing all his friend laid, dead, on the floor.
Helloooo. Isn't it wonderful that our old friend showed up. The Wyrm spoke in the deep, dark, and terrifying voice it carried.
"I'm not your friend!" Conor cried out. Briggan staggered a bit, then fell over, dead. Conor knew he had tears streaming down his cheeks, but he didn't care.
Run. He thought as he sprinted away from the scene, panting badly. There was no way out, and he knew that, but he got as far away as he could from that traitor. He dashed, leaping over every rock, jumping over everything in the way. Then he tripped, falling down. He tried getting up, but he was too winded. He heard snarls and growls surround him. He knew it was over. He knew his fate. He hated what was about to become of him, but he couldn't fight it. There was no where to go, there was no way to fight. He heard foot-steps approach him, boots stopping right in front of his face.
"You thought you could run? You thought you could hide? Well, hate to break it to you, but that's impossible." The voice sounded familiar. It wasn't Zerif's though, so who was it? "Look up at me, Conor. See who this is." Conor tilted his head up to see something shocking. His expression went from sad to shocked in less than a second. Before him stood Rollan, his best friend. The orphan was dressed very neatly, it was very out of place in the dirty underground. The Many stood patiently behind him, awaiting his orders. It was confusing since Rollan didn't have a spiral on his head, meaning he wasn't being controlled. Conor wouldn't have blamed him if there had been one, since Rollan would have been in the same situation as Conor.
"What… What are you doing here?" Conor asked hoarsely, voice cracking on every word.
"What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Last time I checked you were controlling Eura and Greenhaven all at once. That was what you chose to control. But noooo, you have to rebel. Just like every other time we've let you be alone."
"What? Rollan, you're making no sense! Aren't I being controlled by the Wyrm?" Conor was tempted to try to run again, but he couldn't go anywhere with the Many on his every side.
"No, you're a leader of the Many, remember? No parasite? It's the deal you came up with. But since you've rebelled three times now, your definitely getting one!" Rollan said, pulling out a bottle, containing Conor worst nightmare. "Nighty night, Conor." Conor jumped to his feet and dashed in a random direction. The Many grabbed his arms and with surprising strength, dragged over to Rollan's wicked smirk. It matched Zerif's perfectly. The Many forced Conor on his knees.
"Please, Rollan. Please." Conor begged.
"You had your chance." Rollan stated, finishing off any of Conor's hope left. The Amayan twisted the lid and chucked the parasite at Conor as the blonde boy screamed out in fear. Conor squeezed his eyes shut preparing for the worst.
Conor jerked awake in his bed. In his room. He was breathing as hard as allowed and was sweating furiously. He swallowed to calm himself a little. Briggan jumped up onto his lap, staring at him with alarmed eyes. Conor reached up and scratched Briggan behind the ear as if to tell the wolf that everything was alright. The door swung open to reveal a panicked Meilin and a worried Abeke. Shane, Abeke's boyfriend, stood behind them, a grimace of worry on his face.
"What's wrong, Conor? Is there something attacking?" Meilin asked, already whipping out her quarterstaff and positioning herself in a fighting stance.
"No. It's… It's nothing." Conor lied, unable to meet their eyes. Quite frequently, he woke up his friends with his nightmares. He felt bad that he was the reason their sleep was stolen from them.
"It's obviously something." Shane said, looking tired. They had found out Shane had just been in a coma, so he was fine. They all decided to live in an abandoned inn. All five of them together, every day and… Every night.
"Was it another nightmare?" Abeke asked gently.
"What's going on?" Rollan questioned as he sped down the hall and right into Shane knocking them both down. Conor jumped back a bit when Rollan ran in. The dream had caused some mistrust he assumed.
"Yes. It was a dream." Conor answered Abeke once he recovered. Rollan pushed his way through into the room, making Conor gulp a bit. He couldn't get that image of evil Rollan out of his head.
"Wrym dream?" Rollan asked, inching closer and closer until…
"Stop!" Conor cried out. Almost every dream he had was horrifying, and it left him broken. Some nights he didn't scream out, which resulted in his friends staying asleep. It also resulted in him having to council himself. This was the first dream he had where one of his friends betrayed him. The group shared a quizzical look, then Meilin turned to him. She carefully stepped forward, then she sat on the side of his bed.
"Let's talk about this." She said.
Okay, so that was fun and disturbing to write. I honestly didn't think it would so sad to write. I mean, a while ago I wrote one where Shane died and Conor almost did, and I didn't even cry. But this one… It just kinda broke my heart. Wow, I am sappy tonight! Anyway, hope that was good enough for y'all, see you next time!
