The dragons

Two nights ago, I had a strange dream.

I was running with the Ensemble. I think I was Colleen. Maybe it was that I'd been thinking about her for her birthday, but I was her, and I was flying while being buffeted by the wind. I was killing dragons.

Maddie kept screaming something. In my dreams I see her a lot, screaming always, pointing and warning me of danger ahead. Silver was hitting the dragon, Skye was dancing below it with daggers in her hands; I don't know where Valor and Aidan were. And Yoshua would not be there; he had refused to hunt them with us.

I think Lale was there, but not wholly.

He doesn't exist in my dreams where there is a lot of light.

These dragons were not good. Ethically, they were not good. They were not sentient; they did not think. They were cruel and unjust and fought for the sake of fighting, killed for the sake of killing. I was flying and panting and there was so much sunlight in these marble-pillared ruins that I felt ill. But I kept fighting them amidst blue sky, white clouds, and crumbling rocks. There was nothing in my hands; I commanded my friends below.

Somewhere after we killed a red-scaled, slithering dragon, it writhed and shot a beam of fire. I saw Lale then, just a dark shadow, slicing it's belly open, but I saw a claw come down to crush him, so I shouted. The shout tore the dragon's talons in two.

I felt something extremely heavy slam into my side. I careened and tumbled forward and was flung into darkness.



When I woke up I was on a yellowed street in the dark, lit with nothing but street lamps. The yellow stung my eyes. I was afraid. I kept trying to call the Ensemble, dashing between buildings, knowing that they were also frantically looking for me. At home (oh, home) they were celebrating the defeat of the dragons, yet Maddie kept anxiously calling out for me, also searching in the darkness. I spoke to myself to drive the fear away. Come this way, they won't follow you here. Stop. Run. Go.

But something was chasing me--dragon riders? Who knows? There was a girl with blackened eyes and skinny limbs like a jack-in-the-box, twins with red flaming hair and wide grins, and a man with short silver hair and wide shoulders and a malevolent smile. That was all I remember of them. There were many.

I kept running between the buildings, my heart beat crashing like a dying bird in my chest. I felt naked, vulnerable. I could not fly. I think my wings were broken. Colleen's wings, at least. I was pretty sure I was dreaming as her.

And then they cornered me at a school building. The silver-haired man grabbed me, slammed me up against the wall with these bright, grabbing things, like a mass of white shadows. The jack-in-the-box girl was laughing hysterically, like it was the greatest joke, and I saw the red of the twins pop like a bubble of blood. The man was upon me and I watched him as he rammed into me, and spears of pain shot through my womb, and he was laughing too.

And then they were screaming and screaming, and I felt no more fear. There was pain and nausea in this dream, even though the pain was muted. I collapsed on the ground, too tired to move. They were screaming and running because he was here. He tore the darkness to pieces with his own darkness, his eyes black with rage. He gathered me--her, now. I was no longer her, expelled at the height of her pain, the rape. I was watching them, anxious and relieved that he found her. She was crumbled in his arms, barely breathing, weeping, and he kissed her brow and held her close.

What a strangely romantic dream.

Sorry, Leen. I put you through something weird again. XD No rest, even in my sleep, hmm?