Chapter eight- The Dream
The man dressed in black silk paced in a tower of black onyx stone and white marble. The man was tall and broad, oblivious to the sleeping girl watching him in her dream. The man had dark, thick black hair tied into a tight pony tail, and a long tunic. His skin was so pale, with eyes so gloomy that it was hard to look at. Yet, the face she saw had been seen by many others, others in history books. Who was this man?
The man began to speak. His voice was dark, rich, and it echoed, but it was clear to hear. He spoke in a rhythm, it sounded like it was in a different language.
She heard a knock somewhere, perhaps there was a door. The tall man turned around. “Come in.”
The sound of a door opened. A creature walked through the door- it looked like a troll. It was dark grey, with red piercing eyes. It was very short with a club, and a tattered dark green rag for clothes. Sharp teeth protruded through its mouth, menacingly grinding its jaw.
“What is it, troll?” The man growled.
The troll’s voice was deep, and it sounded like it was very stupid. “No traces of her, my lord.’
The man whipped around, slamming his staff upon the marble floor, making it shudder. “You haven’t looked hard enough! Search more! She is in that wretched school, you imbecile! The headmaster may be more powerful than the average wizard, but it’s no way to stop us from retrieving the girl.”
The troll shrunk down in the shadows, and the dreaming girl saw fear gleaming in its putrid red eyes. The man’s anger penetrated the room as though his temper was a sharp knife on a fragile surface.
The man slammed his fist against a wall. “He most likely put a charm on her! That foolish man, he shall die someday…”
“Wha- what do we do, my lord..?” The troll stuttered.
The man roared. He waved his staff and made the troll go flying into the stone wall. The troll sat up, dazed, but still intact. “Do you stupid trolls remember anything? You follow my orders the way I want you to, and one simple order is for you to listen!”
“I’m sorry, my lord!” The troll cried. The man looked out of a window in disgust.
“Bu- but sir, we do wish good pay…”
The man apparently had enough of the troll. He turned around very fast, and moved his large, red staff in a circular pattern. The troll screamed in pain, and a horrible sight entered the dreaming girl’s mind.
Blood was pouring out of the troll’s eyes, nose, ears, and bubbling hot blood out of the mouth. Slits of blood were appearing in its dark colored throat, arms, legs, and stomach. The girl watched in horror as Malistaire Drake whipped around in disgust, looking her way although she wasn’t there… It was only a dream…
I woke up with the searing painful screams of the troll ringing in my ears, and Malistaire’s pure bloodlust eyes printed upon my eyes. I was covered in sweat and convulsing. I hated the blood, the loss of a life. I had a headache the size of an earthquake in my head, and my eyes stung from the sweat. I got up from bed and ran to the bathroom. I threw up in the toilet, and yet nobody woke up. I cried at that point for a couple minutes, letting my salty tears mix with my sick. I flushed the toilet, and brushed my teeth. I got into a new, clean pair of pajamas, and put a cold washcloth on my face. My sweats were gone, but my upset stomach still kept me awake until dawn.
The next morning I said nothing. I ate my breakfast in silence; however, I still didn’t feel good.
“What’s wrong, honey? You look a little hot.” My mother said as she walked in. She felt my forehead. “Holy crap, Mary you’re burning!”
“I don’t feel so good, either.” I mumbled. I put my head in my hands and rubbed my eyes. “Mama, can I stay home today?”
“Sure honey, I can’t possibly let you go to school this sick…”
I dropped my spoon in my cereal bowl in disgust. The sweet taste of the flakes just made my mouth feel slimy and bitter. I ran to the bathroom once again, my mother close behind me. I threw up in the toilet, my mother rubbing my back and encouraging me as a vomit. I wiped my mouth and flushed the toilet. My mother set up my toothbrush for me to brush my teeth right afterwards, and sat on the toilet as she watched me.
“I thought I heard something last night, were you sick last night?” She spoke softly.
“Yeah, just had a bad dream.” I replied. What I didn’t tell her was: I had a dream of Malistaire Drake searching for a girl that could possibly be me, whom is enrolled in Ravenwood just like me, and had watched a harmless troll be bled to death with boiling hot blood and cuts sprayed all over its body. I didn’t tell her the gruesome thought of the troll’s bloodcurdling screams, its red putrid eyes becoming hot suns in fury and terror, a deep gash pounding upon its body every second in every place of his muscular body.
Instead, I said I had a ‘bad dream’.
“What was it about?” My mother asked calmly. I could see the worry in her eyes, and I knew this was the question I was avoiding to answer.
“I got chased by wolves in a dark forest.” I lied. It was the first thing that came upon my mind.
“Oh honey, I’m sorry. Why don’t you go lay in bed and I’ll make you some hot soup? I know you like the chicken kind…’
I walked out of the room, leaving the nasty cereal on the table. I walked downstairs, and into my room. I realized Sabrina was out of the house somewhere, so I sat in my bed and watched the silver rain fall outside in the window. I was memorized by the pure white light of the cloudy sky, realizing that there was a beautiful blue sky among those clouds… I opened the window and stuck my head out to look up. I knew I looked crazy, but I loved the feeling of the cool, wet drops sprinkling my face. Slowly, the cool air and the fresh tears of the sky made my upset stomach seem a little more… Better.
~•~
The rest of the day was slow. I spent the day studying the Basic Wizardry book that my professor gave me. It was so fascinating! I learned about famous wizards, such as Merlin, Ophelia, Dracula, Cleopatra and Shakespeare. The quotes from Hamlet were amazing, and Cleopatra’s bravery inspired me so… Of course, there were bad wizards as well. Robbers stealing from Earth with no sign on their little recording things they call “cameras.” Those are wizards. Murders, earthquakes, those apparently are us. There was even a few witches who put Salem
Then there were the Titans. Three of them, to be exact. Nobody truly knows what happened, but everybody knows there was a big war that made the three main schools; Fire, Ice, and Storm. Myth, Death, and Life were peaceful.
The Dragon Titans of Fire magic ruled the Land, the Ice Giant Titans of Ice magic ruled over the sky, and the Storm Lord Titans/Tritons of Storm magic ruled over the seas. Each Titan had their own story.
The Storm Titans expected that the Ice and Fire Titans were scheming, and were ready when the attack happened. They refused to fully destroy their enemy and so, fell into a cursed slumber as their price for mercy.
After the Great War with the Dragons and the Tritons, the Ice Titans went into a state of stasis, as their story tells it. Apparently, because it is derived from the giants, Ice magic will always be more powerful than that of Fire and Storm; just as Storm magic thinks itself more powerful.
For the Fire Titans, there were many eons of peace, that is until the Tritons and the Giants began to bicker on trivial matters. Finally, war broke out between the two sides and the Fire Titans became involved as the universe was threatened. In order for there to be peace, the Fire Titans used their great power to stop the war and the world became dormant and silent. Though the Titans now sleep, Fire magic, the most powerful of magics (Says differently by Ice and Storm) comes from the essence that the Titans released into fire and magma.
Each Titan thought their magic was more powerful. Each Titan was blaming. However, nobody knows who truly won, or who truly the wiser choice was. Really, the whole thing is bias.
I flipped some pages.
Malistaire, of course, was in the book. I read the article slowly, every single word. I read aloud as I leaned against my pillows on my bed:
Malistaire Drake, a retired Death professor from Ravenwood School of Magical Arts, had ripped away the Death building in Ravenwood exactly three years ago. Nobody knows why Malistaire Drake did what he did, and it still remains a mystery. What witnesses had told reporters, was that they had seen him “floating” on a cloud of black shimmery smoke, and had waved his hand with mighty strength. The Death school had apparently exploded from the school area, and fell down into the universe under Wizard City Wizard City
The rest was about his birth date, his teaching years, and his grades in Ravenwood. I thought about the life teacher- Sylvia Drake? What a strange love affair, between life and death!
The door opened, and my mother came in. She had a tray in her hand, and upon it sat her signature steaming chicken soup. It was absolutely delicious, and my mouth watered.
“Hi honey, sorry this took so long. You know how it takes all day to make.” She smiled, and nodded to the book. “What are you reading, sweetie?”
I shifted the position on my pillows. “Basic Wizardry. The facts are amazing in here! Did you know Malistaire Drake had a wife?”
My mother almost dropped the tray and hot soup on the floor. Her face turned pale white, and her eyes bulged out like a bugs. I noticed her hands were shaking slightly. “Mom, are you okay?”
She stiffened, and put the tray on my window sill. “Yes, Mary. I did know. She was the Life professor, wasn’t she?”
“Yeah. The author who wrote this book said she was really beautiful. Have you ever seen her?” I asked.
I saw a small smile on my mother’s face. “Let’s just say that I’ve seen her a lot of times. We were very close, I suppose… And for her being beautiful, I don’t know.”
I gaped at her. “You knew her? Tell me about her! Please!”
She looked at me and sighed. “No, Mary. You should eat. It’s a long story…”
I looked at the soup in disappointment. “At least tell me what she was like.”
My mother sat down at the end of my bed. “Well, she loved her school. She was very proud of her school and her students, and never let anybody down, I suppose. She tried to do her best, but some things don’t always turn out to be happy endings…” My mother’s face twitched.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, I-“My mother coughed, but it was a strange cough. “She got sick, as it tells in that book your reading.”
“That stinks. I wonder how a woman so full of life could like an evil guy like Malistaire.” I added, quietly.
My mother nodded curiously. “You never know, Malistaire could have been a good man, once… I believe there is a heart in him, just like everybody else.”
I looked at her strangely, and remembered my dream. I shuddered. “I can’t imagine it.”
She smoothed out my hair. “Why is that?”
“I don’t know.” I lied. How could I tell her about my dream? “He just sounds bloodthirsty to me.”
My mother hugged me, and kissed my forehead. “Everybody thinks that of him at first, but you never know.” She walked out of the room.
Well, what does she know about Malistaire. Her school was life; they weren’t supposed to think of evil things, or even evil people. They were the magic of music and spirituality, good things. Perhaps that was all she can think of…
I ate my soup in silence, chewing the tasty chicken while I searched the book’s pages for Sylvia Drake. Unfortunately, I found nothing. Not one word, only the paragraph with Malistaire. I finished my soup and put it in the sink in the kitchen. Suddenly, I heard our doorbell ring.
I walked downstairs, and noticed Richard’s newspaper on the coffee table as I passed to reach the door. When I opened the door, Richard was standing with a book bag over his shoulder. His brown hair was messy, and his blue eyes glittering in worrisome.
“Hi Richard, what are you doing here?” I asked. I glanced down and I realized that I was wearing my sweats. Not the best thing to wear while talking to a cute guy.
“Hey, Mary. I didn’t see you at school today- are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Was just a little sick, that’s all…” I ran my fingers through my hair. “Did school just end?”
“Yes.” Richard replied. He took a piece of paper out of his bag. “I stopped by Professor Wethersfield, and he told me to give this to you. Apparently it’s your homework.”
I looked at the sheet of paper, and I realized I was slightly disappointed. “Okay, thanks, I guess…”
“So, did you have a cold or something?”
“You could call it that. I had kind of a disturbing dream last night, didn’t end well for me.” I answered gloomily.
“What, did you die?” Richard asked, I could see a little bit of laughter in his eyes.
“No!” I chuckled a little. “No, nothing like that. Just… Different, I suppose.”
“Want to tell me about it?”
I thought about telling Richard, but it just didn’t sound right. Yes, he was amazingly handsome, a great listener, and sweet… However, he wasn’t my “best friend.”
“Nah, I’ve gotten over it.” I lied.
“That’s what you said about your dad.” Richard said, quietly.
I was slightly taken back with his choice of topic; I didn’t expect him to talk about my father. I remembered when I was furious with him, just because he was fire like my father.
“And it’s true.” I was starting to feel guilty with all these lies.
“K’ then.” Richard stepped outside, and nodded to me. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow, right?”
“Um, yeah, I will be there.”
“Ok, bye Mary.” He closed the door.
“Bye.”
I sighed, and sat down on the couch. I sat there for the rest of the day, watching it rain.
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