Ysbryd Iawn o Ryfeddod

Part XVI

Descartes (the cute, dear man) at one point believed that since when he dreamed he could rarely tell that he was, in fact, dreaming, and believed himself to be in the real world, hence when he awoke he could not know, for absolutely certain, that he was, in actuality, awaking. There was a very distinct possibility that what he knew as the real world was a dream, so therefore he could not know it at all. Before his first dream of Lovey, Alaric would have said Descartes was a moron, but perhaps now he might have some sympathy. For now he is in fact dreaming, but if you are able to tell him so, he will not believe you.

Perhaps you have once had a dream in which you could feel exactly what other characters in the dream are feeling while knowing you are not them (if not I would suggest you stay in more, and daydream.) This is what Alaric was experiencing as he looked at the dreamy Lovey. He knew that the tile floor of the bathroom was cold under feet. She pressed her toes like teeth into the grouted grooves. Her hands gripped her thighs hard, to keep her hands from shaking. A man was standing behind her, behind the mirror. His arm reached out from the glass and wrapped around her neck till it came to its fist. Perhaps his fingers were clenched because he was frightened too. Alaric couldn’t imagine what a demon could be afraid of.

“Do you know why she is going to die, Alaric?” the man asked. Alaric could only see the dark outline of his head behind Lovey’s.

“She is not going to die,” he answered, biting off the words.

“She is going to be the secretary of the Enemy. She will write down His words and deliver them on the unsuspecting public. That makes her public enemy number one, my dear.” He giggled.

“The only enemy is you, and you will die. I swear to God.”

“Oh, I can’t wait.”

And immediately, the man fist unclenched and he snapped Lovey’s neck. She fell to the ground, and he stood with his arm out the mirror, trembling and yellow.

Alaric woke up. It had been a dream, but not one to caste aside.

He went into Lovey’s room, and found her on the bed, writing on the complimentary pad of paper. Writing the words of that man’s enemy, he hoped.

She looked up, saw him, and smiled. Lovely Lovey. He sat down next to her, but didn’t touch her.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” she replied, and put the pad and pen on the night stand.

“We should probably be going soon,” he said.

“Yes,” she agreed. Neither made eye contact.

“I had another dream about you last night.” Their eyes met.

He told her about it, even about how she died even though he hadn’t wanted too. He even described the man’s trembling, and color. She held his eyes.

And immediately said, “if what he says is true why is he so afraid.”

“Dark Spirit will fear me cause I’m a warrior,” she thought.