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My throat worked as I tried to swallow past the harsh, burning dryness.
“Mum!” I roared; my voice hoarse as I called out to my mother. She was dressed the same as she was that night, her night dress crumpled, and her hair pulled back into a braid. She stopped at the base of a tree I wished I did not recognize, and looked in my direction, her eyes wide.
Skidding to a stop in front of her, I doubled over, my hands on my knees and dry heaving onto the ground between us. A sharp pain in my arm made me yelp as I straightened up, my eyes watering.
“Maeteo,” Mum smiled, her voice the same as it had been the night she was murdered. She did not look any different. The same smile, the same freckles — the same.
“You need to move,” I gasped, reaching out to take a hold of her arm and instead finding nothing but cool air, “Please, we need to move!”
“Do not worry, my sweet boy.” Her voice was soothing as she reached for me, placing a hand on my cheek. I could not feel it, instead only the feeling of cool wetness hit my skin like a slap, making me wince. “We cannot be hurt.”
“What is happening?” I asked, my voice breaking. Staring into her eyes after fourteen years was making me feel like a child again; a scared, lonely, angry child.
“You are dreaming, my love.” She cooed, her hand leaving my cheek and the coolness leaving with it.
The sound of thundering horses drew ever closer, and I looked over my shoulder just in time to see the one thing I never wanted to see again in my life. The soldiers that murdered my mother were coming towards us the same way they were the night she had died, and I threw myself in front of her, unsure exactly of how this was going to work out.
The arrow was already drawn and fired, and I felt the sharp stabbing in the middle of my chest, making a scream rip itself from my throat, but I did not fall.
I did not bleed.
I looked down, expecting to see the arrow lodged in the middle of my chest, but instead found nothing. As I ran my hands over my chest and stomach, I turned, knowing already what I was going to find, but I could not will myself to look.
Another slap of cold hit my skin as mum reached forward, pushing my hair off my face, and forcing my head up.
Right there, in the middle of her chest. Blood was starting to pool on her night-dress, and I could already feel the scream building in my chest. But she smiled. She did not fall to the ground like she had that night. She stood, holding my eyes and smiling as though nothing had happened.
“This is not real, Maeteo.” Her voice carried on a breeze through the trees as her lips did not move. “None of this is real. You are dying, my love.”
I shook my head, a sob breaking its way out of me as I reached for her hand, desperate to have a grip on her so she could not leave me again, but my fingers closed around damp mist. Vaguely, I could hear other voices; panicked and demanding.
“It is not your time, my boy, my sweet boy.” She hushed me, pushing my hair back again and smiling at me in the way only a mother could, lovingly and without restraint. “I must leave you. You are not due here yet.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I sobbed, taking in as much of her face as I could as the edges of my vision started to blur and blend, the darkness of the forest being replaced with bright, white light.
“No one does, love.” She laughed lightly as blood started to drip from the sides of her mouth. “Kira needs your friendship, Maeteo. Do not take advantage of her feelings for you. She needs friendship and guidance; she is not yours to love.”
The words sent a searing pain through my chest, and I let out a noise that was somewhere between a sob and a scream. The trees around us had disappeared now, and it was just mum and I in an empty whiteness. I stumbled over my feet, trying to keep myself close to mum as she started to back away from me.
“Don’t leave me,” I cried, watching as she took step after step backwards. Blood had covered her nightdress now, and the edges of her shimmered as she backed away.
“I am always with you, my boy.” She smiled, her voice carrying on in an echo around me as she disappeared fully, “I am always in the wind.”
~~~
My mother’s face remained etched into the backs of my eyelids as the comforting whiteness was ripped away from me, replaced with a blinding yellow light.
I tried my hardest to lift my arm and push away whatever it was that was shining down on me, but my arms would not move. My voice got stuck in my throat, and I found myself choking on the dryness there. A pair of hands pushed my shoulders up from behind, moving me onto my side so I could vomit that way, and for that I was thankful.
A gut-wrenching burning spread across the front of my chest and stomach, and I screamed as I was brought back to lie on my back. There was something soft across my legs, but my chest and stomach lay bare, and I tried to blink my eyes open, but they would not co-operate.
“You’re okay, Maeteo. You’re okay,” Tarian’s voice broke through the blood rushing in my ears.
Tarian. When did Tarian get here? The last thing I remembered was leaving the tavern after getting into a fight with the bar tender when he had badmouthed Kira. I had, admittedly, drank too much, and the sound of him calling her something that would make even a criminal’s blood turn had tipped me over the edge. I’d leaped over the bar and grabbed him by the collar, but I was already too many drinks down and he easily got a hold of me. He’d burst my nose and my lip and thrown me out into the evening air.
I did not know what happened after that. What had I done? Panic began to rise in my chest, and I gagged again, Tarian moving me quickly so I could dry-heave over my side.
I tried again to open my eyes, desperately seeking the comfort of seeing my best friend’s face, but someone placed an ice-cold cloth over my forehead, covering them in the process.
