On The Run - Chapter V

cHAPTERv

When I awoke the following morning, it seemed daylight was still several hours away.  As my mind began to focus I realized that my sleep was ended due to a disturbance.  I searched the dark of the cabin to see if I could see anything out of place.  Both of the doors remained closed and there was no noise coming from anyplace.  As I sat there considering whether I should shut my eyes or search for what had awoken me I realized that I was now wide awake and was going to start my day whether I wanted to or not. 

As I sat up the sensation of sleep completely drained out of me.  Outside were the sounds of a completely content environment.  Apparently there was nothing external for me to be concerned about.  Yet there were no dreams that I could remember that would have disturbed me either.  The feeling of uneasiness had yet to dissolve from me.  As the minutes slipped by and my nerves wouldn’t calm I knew that I was going to have to be proactive in taking control of myself. 

Standing to my feet and looking around the room I decided to take a walk outside.  The morning hours were cool and the smell was welcoming.  Sitting on the porch and contemplating the events of the previous day I decided to try to sort some things out. 

I re-envisioned the torn and battered figure in the doorway holding my dagger…broken…my dagger was broken!

At first the image replayed in my head repeatedly.  My mind kept rolling back to the door slamming open, broken dagger dropping to the floor. 

As time seemed to turn to winter’s snow, my thoughts continued to replay those images slowly.  Falling around me with grace and beauty, turning everything cold, making every movement take all the energy I could exert.  Standing to my feet and turning towards the door my feet slipped on the stairs and I felt as though I floated towards the ground.  Landing with pain racking through my body I tried to immediately stand but seemed to be moving in slow motion.  Reaching for the door, slamming it open, slowly running towards the spot on the floor where I knew the broken dagger lay, stumbling and falling again. 

Looking up, noticing Zordith’s legs, then her hands reaching down to help me up.  As our hands met she asked if I was ok.  She must have immediately noticed the darkness that had fallen on me.  She took me in her good arm and held me close as I began to sob. 

“What is so wrong that has caused you such pain?”

I was unable to explain my distress through my sobbing, but was able to only get out the words, “…my dagger…”

Attempting to comfort me she said, “We will make sure to get you a better one.”

She obviously had no idea how important that dagger was to me, or the power that it gave me, which I had only first begun to discover.  I couldn’t be mad at her for trying to comfort me, but I wished so badly that would just stop.  She would never understand the importance of that dagger.

In that moment all hopes of what my dreams had indicated I would ever become faded.  Never would I find out the limits to its power that the Citedale feared badly enough to kill everyone with the gift to use them.

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