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Anja
Everythingaround me is hazy as a sheen of white fog fills the air. I wave my hands around, trying to find something concrete to hold onto.
Shadows move beyond the mist, growing closer, then more distant, and there’s an almost constant wail floating around in the background as if the mist itself is screaming.
Panic starts to rise within me, and I try my best not to let it consume me.
It’s just a dream.
I’m asleep, that’s all this is. I’ve spent the past couple of weeks learning about magic and all kinds of spooky things, and now it’s all coming to me in the form of a dream. It’s nothing more than that.
Lies.
I don’t know if I think the word, or if the mist is talking to me. It doesn’t help with the panic.
The rush of water calls my attention and I turn towards it, compelled by forces I can’t fully explain or put a name to. I’m certainly not as in control of myself as I wish I was.
I can’t hear my feet against the ground, and the air is weirdly still, especially considering the presence of the mist. I don’t know what to make of it.
An old woman appears by the edge of the river, a white dress in her hands.
I try to call to her, to ask her what she wants, but no words come from my mouth. Despite that, she turns to me, revealing my own face staring back at me.
A loud scream rips through me even in the dream. I can feel it from the pit of my stomach, all the way up to the pressure behind my temples. There’s almost something supernatural about it, though I can’t put my finger on what it is.
The mist, the woman, and the wailing fade in an instant. My eyes snap open, revealing the darkness of my dorm room to me. I stare up at Nati’s bed above me and take some deep breaths while I try to remind myself that it’s just a dream. A bad one, but nothing more than a nightmare.
A thin sheen of sweat covers my entire body, my breathing is rapid and my throat is sore from screaming. I touch my throat, almost surprised to discover that it feels exactly the same as normal. Somehow, that doesn’t feel right.
With my breathing back under control, I roll over and search for my water bottle, grabbing it so I can take a drink, but there’s nothing in it.
I groan. I refilled it before I went to bed, I should still have plenty to see me through until morning.
I throw back the covers, knowing that there won’t be any sleep for at least another hour. I don’t know whether I find the dreams themselves the worst, or the aftereffects, but neither are particularly pleasant.
A chill travels through me the moment my feet hit the cold ground. I reach around for a robe to throw over my sleep shirt, almost giving up on finding it when my hand hits the rough fabric of my blazer. It’s better than nothing, and I’m going to be back in bed before long anyway.
The soft snores and snuffling sounds coming from the other beds reveal that my roommates are all still sleeping soundly, which is at least something. If it wasn’t for the pain in my throat and the exhaustion in every inch of my body, I’d think that the screams were just in my head.
Though that only raises more questions than it answers. How am I screaming in the middle of the night and no one can hear it? I should probably ask Mum about some of this, but I can’t bring myself to. Either she’ll get super excited about my powers finally showing themselves, or she’ll start worrying that I’m manifesting in a way she can’t understand.
No matter how I look at it, it isn’t good.
I get to my feet and pull on my blazer, glad for the warmth even if it’s not the nicest material against my skin. I head out of the room and down to the bathroom so I can refill my bottle from the sink. The doors of the other dorms are tightly shut and soft moonlight illuminates the corridor. It’s eerier than I expect it to be, but in a way that’s also beautiful.
I set my bottle down on the shelf over the sink and run some of the cold water, splashing it over my face. I meet my gaze in the mirror and shudder at how bad I look. And if I’m not mistaken, my roots are starting to show brilliant silver-white. Which shouldn’t be possible. That’s not how the potion Mum brews me works.
I shake my head. It’s probably all in my imagination. I’m tired and still in the haze of the dream. I fill my bottle and drink half of it down before I even leave the bathroom. My throat is still raw from the dream-scream, but the water at least makes it feel a little better. If it’s still like this in the morning, I can go down to the infirmary and ask for something to help with it, hopefully, they won’t ask too many questions that I won’t be able to answer.
Satisfied that things are as good as they’re going to get, I head back to the dorm, hoping I won’t wake anyone in the process. I know we’re allowed to go to the bathroom when we need it, but I still feel a little uneasy being out of my room past lights out.
A soft tapping stops me in my tracks, causing my heart to race and all kinds of panicked thoughts to slip through my mind. I search around frantically in an attempt to work out where it’s coming from.
A shadow behind one of the windows catches my eye just as a raven hops through the open pane. It cocks its head to the side and studies me, almost as if it’s curious.
I take a step towards it, expecting it to fly away and being somewhat surprised when it doesn’t.
“Hello,” I say softly.
