Everything felt fuzzy as Moira woke, her skin caressed by the satin sheets. Leaning forward, she rubbed her head, her hair was short and choppy, the breeze hitting her neck made her shiver. The window across the room was open, rain and wind trickled in making the stone floor wet, she could see her breath. Moira cleared her eyes and saw everything was not just fuzzy but lacking color entirely. The world was gray and uncomfortable to look at, it was hard to focus.
Shuffling around the sheets to stand, she felt another beside her, quickly withdrawing her hand, she screamed but the breath was stolen from her lungs, her voice disappeared from her lips, she grasped her throat in shock. She watched the silhouette under the sheets as it lay there: unmoving, their chest neither rising nor falling, their body firm but cold, their skin like ice through the sheets as she pressed into their thigh with her hand. Moira pulled back the sheets slowly, revealing dark brown curly hair and closed eyes. Moira reached for the edge of the sheet, pulling it back as the person turns to their side. Frightened by this sudden movement, she pushed herself off the bed, her legs like jelly and collapsed as she tried to run away. Moira looked for the door and found nothing but a wall and curtain in its place, she panicked and staggered to the window. Reached the wall and leaned against it, it was smooth stone, bending half out of the window for air she saw the world high above the clouds.
Mountains stretched out forever, the rivers looked like tiny blue lines drawn in the dirt, the forest like a sheet of green waving under her. Below her, it was like looking down a giant hole, the world seemed to fall, the sky met the ground, the trees, the birds, the clouds, it all blurred together as she tried heard the whistle of the wind in her ears rushing past, trying to grab the nearest thing and only felt the lashes of the roots sticking out of the cliff, whipping her hands, her face, her legs hit the rock as she tumbled forward. A voice, a man's voice screamed at her, he sounded desperate and weak; it was like the world began to shake as she fell. As she got nearer and nearer to the forest floor she could hear the man's yelling get louder. Turning to face the sky where she fell, she saw a hand reach for her, sharp fingers with vicious claws gripping toward her, its dagger like nails cutting deep into her stomach, blood fell with her.
"MOIRA!" he yelled, another voice against his in the wind.
"Moira!"
"Moira."
"Moira...?"
Opening her eyes, she woke to see the color draining slowly back into the world. Tsina and Greyse blankly staring over her, Jalla seemed to laugh at Moira's grogginess. She was not in that room anymore, she reassured herself, she was not hurtling towards the forests overgrown mossy ground. Her eyes in their sockets felt foreign, her face was numb and slack, her arms weak and hands shaky as she tried to wipe her face from the dream.
That man's voice.
It echoed in her head all day, she was unfocused and in a haze throughout the entire day, her body moved as if her brain left her, like a carriage with no driver, a horse with no rider. Breakfast, music lessons, dance lessons, luncheon and then tea, Odiovitian etiquette and traditional dance, followed by a dull reading of cartography and learning who made them and how the maps were made, by the time she finally reached her mind it was dark, she entered conscience while talking to Jalla for her nightly tea. Nothing seemed right, it felt crooked, it felt backwards, like life was the dream and this was not real.
"Moira?" Jalla asked, bringing her back to conscientiousness. "You've been ignoring me all day."
Moira looked at Jalla's dark brown eyes and sighed, her face paler than usual. "It's nothing but a bad dream, that is all."
Jalla grinned and lightly pushed Moira. "A day of silence because of a bad dream? Pfft- You should have these dreams more often." She teased, as they clinked their teacups together. "We travel in two days, and you haven't even wished anyone good-bye or a farewell, most Ladies will see it as an insult."
Moira wanted to say 'Let them be Insulted', she mentally punished herself for thinking such things. "Maybe I should make a public Goodbye?" she asked as Tsina and Greyse walked in with a tray of Crusted Pistachio Tarts and Lemon Balls with another pot of steaming tea.
"Public display of affection towards the people that didn't even know you existed until five years ago? HA!" Greyse scoffed out, setting down the tray on the table at the edge of the bed, she poured herself some tea, adding cream and sugar and honey and then adding more tea, then poured another glass for Tsina, no cream or sugar, just honey, Moira got up and did the same.
They all sat at her tea table at a corner of the room, Moira looked into the mirror, she was paler than usual, her head was woozy and light. She did not look like the person she felt she was. She felt different somehow, the dream lingered with her body, her stomach did not show its wounds but she felt the claw marks in her skin as she moved. Moira sat back down and looked to the three as they argued of the inaccuracies of mythological storybooks and actual legends.
"Have you ever had a dream where you were stuck in the dream?" Moira asked abruptly, they all stopped arguing among themselves and looked at Moira curiously. She felt ashamed of the question as they looked at each other cautiously.
"Because, you know, last night I was stuck in my dream, more of a nightmare honestly, and it felt unusually real. Everything was black and white and there was a man, and my hair was-"
Tsina placed a hand on Moira's, her eyes soft as they met Moira's sad eyes. "Moira, darling, I think you know why you're having these dreams." Moira panicked for a moment, Tsina couldn't possibly know what Moira dreamed of, could she?
Some Elves have powers such as dreamwalking and telekinesis and manifestation, but such powers were strictly prohibited in the Domes. To make sure they don't secretly use their powers, King Rejans great-great-grandmother, Queen Honelia made a metal collar, powered by lightning charged diamond plate pieces, to ensure if they do use their powers they would be paralyzed permanently. Over the decades the collars were refined, evolving into wristbands, then to ankle braces, then finally to four very small metal bracelets placed on ankle and wrists, they were a bit of an eyesore considering the garb people wear here though everyone that had them were mostly servants and you could tell who was who with them.
Tsina stood, eye level to Moira while sitting down, "Moi- You're leaving in two days, and we haven't exactly been at your side since the Dance of Colors..."
Moira laughed lightly and shook her head. "No, it's that. More importantly, why haven't you been at my side. You are still my handmaidens, the both of you." Moira looked at Greyse sternly.
Greyse waved her hands defensively, "I had no part in that, Moira! That was Tsina, shes the one who is afraid of the unhuman frea-" Moira cleared her throat before Greyse had time to finish the sentence. "Tsina doesn't like being around them."
Tsina gasped, turning around and quickly hit Greyse, Moira laughed at their frustration while Jalla shook her head disapprovingly.
"Moira, the thing is, I can usually feel people, it's a powerless reaction: you are like thorns and flowers, Jalla is like muddy water and perfume." Jalla said "Hey!" in offense and Greyse laughed, "But they-" Tsina thought hard, Greyse laughing still wheezing. "They do not smell like anything, or feel like anything. They are vibration-less. Moving but motionless. Living, but-" Tsina did not finish, but Moira already knew the end to that sentence.
Jalla teased, "They are just like us, Tsina, they were once human The same vibrations that run through us, runs through them. King even said so at the Ceremony. 'our lines were once one and now have been separated by the grace of time.' The Fasi's have a direct line to King Michael the First of Odiovitae, Lord of the Athaaric Clan."
"What?" Moira asked, very intrigued and also disgusted. "I'm related to the Athaaric's?"
Jalla pushed Moira softly, "No, not anymore, you probably haven't shared close bloodlines with the Athaaric's in over a century. The War of Mankind and the Great War after that, then the Civil War between the Northern Kingdoms, that is a little over five-hundred years of distancing us from them. Moira showed her disgust on her face, her lips curled into a frown.
"Gross." Tsina said, before Moira could speak, they all laughed and clinked their tea cups. The thought of having to leave washed over her once more. Her heart did not want to say goodbye, not to anyone, not even her own people. She had been welcomed by them the minute she was introduced. There was nothing else to say on the matter. She was bound to depart in two days. Moira helped the girls clean up and assured them she could dress herself for bed and bid them goodnight. Jalla headed to her room and waved Moira off as she closed the door. Moira was finally alone. She tried to get her mind off dream as she closed her eyes. She felt for her hair, her thick robes were still there, she was not in that room anymore she assured herself.