A Series of Observations

They had met in dreams many times before. Decades before or after their births, they found each other, if only they were clever enough to realize.

The subconscious terrain, be it real or otherwise, produced a time entirely unfamiliar to the pair, older than they had experienced before. The air sustained a significant weight, chills an ever-present sensation disturbing their skin, a darkness that could not be punctured.

These invasive feelings brought their consciousness forcefully into the present and caused a sense of urgency. Blood flew through veins and eyes observed in a sharper focus.

Their instincts were different during these times of meeting. With different times came ways of being they had to act quickly to adjust to, or else they would be discovered as the outsiders that they were.

The woman had awoken in the depths of a thick forest, the tree line offering very little of the darkening sky above her, velvet moss, tree roots and dirt below her feet. The cloak she wore the only shield against the chill that was setting into her bones, joining the anticipation and fear that was coursing through her veins. Dress now covered in mud and sweat, she looked around her. No tells of a right direction were evident. No streams of water to follow, no bright stars in the unnaturally black sky, she breathed and braced herself against a tree.

A twig snapped; her attention with it. Behind her the noise came, the growing sound of horses in the distance, even farther she could see the haunting image of torches coming her way. She ran in the opposite direction, one of many impossible choices made in an instant.

The man had come to consciousness in a fortress, surrounded by intricate tapestries and warm furs. In the corner, a suit of armor gleamed softly in the dim candlelight, his confusion rose with him. The floor held a chill he imagined was reflected outside, and beyond the wooden doors that held him in this room, he saw people pass from the light underneath.

He quickly changed and with the last belt loop linked, holding a weapon at his side, the door vibrated with a demanding fist. Quickly he approached, so to not set off suspicion. On the other side of the door, stood a large man of equal height but clearly a warrior.

“Come Captain, and quick. They found a witch I think you’ll be curious to see.” The warrior held the man’s gaze, but a deep level of respect and familiarity passed between them, they were friends then. The man offered a nod and followed.

The woman ran despite the encroaching threats behind her gaining ground. The trees had been thinning, ensuring any safety found in the darkness and thick wood gone. Her lungs burned, muscles with them, as she carried herself with a fear she had never known before.

The mirage of a city’s walls began to grow with her speed, but it would be fruitless to believe safety would be so easily attainable, not from The King’s Guard, a group of men trained viciously and eager to sink their teeth into every witch the king deemed a threat to his own power.

Her body seized, frozen in the space she took between breaths and steps, as the guard surrounded her, their magic a chokehold on her. This could not be right, she thought, what would a king want with her?

“Look what we found boys, a real treat!” A pristine white horse drew a disturbingly horrific man towards her. The gleam in his eyes was electrified with an unnatural sentience and markings across his skin painted him as the well experienced leader of this horde.

Words were lost on their way to her lips, breathing a remarkable feat with the power that held her in place. Eyes wide, a gasp escaped her as the spell released its hold and she fell to her knees, shackles immediately were placed around the wrists that supported her fall.

“This one looks like she’ll actually put up a fight.” The image of the man would be burned into her memory, past wounds dancing permanently across every feature and teeth rotting within his very skull. The woman held back her reaction of disgust, and instead threw forward the fire he so clearly saw in her.

“What do you want with me?” She held his gaze. The brutal man laughed.

“I’d hate to ruin the surprise for you.” He snapped his fingers, and her vision was blackened by the rough fabric of a blindfold. The tug of the chains connecting now her feet and hands motioned her forward.

She had no way to track how far they had gone, the turns they had taken. She was not trained with that level of perception. Exhaustion seeped into her as adrenaline held her upright. Soft earth transitioned to cobblestone beneath her feet, and before she could trip on the uneven surfacing, she was hoisted onto a horse.

The horde of men had thinned, this much she could tell. Some warriors were expanded to other areas or were left behind, she did not entirely know, but she was accompanied by far less than what she started with.

People could be heard at many decibels as they passed, arranging a variety of conversations that would never be complete. The horses slowed, and the brutal warrior in charge of her keep held tightly to her chains.

“Open the gate!” he called, and with little hesitation, whoever was beckoned responded, the groaning of already ancient metal and wood protesting their arrival.

The shouts penetrated her mind as the change of scenery altered the way her body reacted. It was warmer, they were inside, but the walls of wherever they were held onto a stench and dampness that threatened to make her sick.

The voices of hundreds grew louder, into shouts and cries of exhilaration and the energy of the area swelled to a crescendo with the beating of drums.

Her heart flew faster than her attempts to calm it down. The woman was ripped from the horse and pushed forward and through a threshold into a group of people.

A group of other women. She could sense their desperation, their fear, as it matched hers perfectly. Someone grasped her hands and held onto them with a grip only the certainty of death could bring.

“Where are we?” she begged the person, “I can’t see anything.”

The other woman let out a small cry. “We are being sent to die for a cruel and ignorant man’s entertainment. We are in his arena where he makes us pay for our dreams and everything we’ve done to keep them.”

The woman did not understand, she had had no time to adjust when she had awoken in the forest, time she would have spent understanding the world around her.

She feared this time was different, the dreams had never taken such a dark turn before. The woman attempted to rip her wrists free knowing that something had gone terribly wrong, something she might not have the chance to come back from.

The group of women were moved towards a doorway, each stumbling through without the ability of their sight, and the fire within her grew as she assessed the voices around her. Some were old enough to be her grandmother, and most were younger than one should ever be to know this kind of fear. She walked on and did her best to assure them, what little use it seemed to be anyways.

The crowd had reached a deafening level as the group was paraded for them, the woman was sure to keep her shoulders back, her breaths deep and did whatever she could think of to wake up.

The dream had a deeper hold on her than it ever had before, and she was helpless in the face of what it created. The woman thought for the briefest moments that she was very likely to never wake up.

How cruel it was for this power to turn against them, perhaps they knew they were pushing their luck. The man restrained himself with every amount of willpower he had as he followed the warrior that came to retrieve him, his Second, as he quickly became aware of.

A force motivated him like no other, and he knew he was quickly running out of time. The dreams never lasted more than a day or night, and it appeared he had woken up in the middle of that precious time.

The men quickly entered the stables and gripped the reins of their horses, hoisting themselves into the saddles as they burst into motion. The man could not pretend as though he was clueless. Not in this position, but he turned to his Second.

“Where have they taken her, the witch?” he asked, morphing his tone to exude a command.

“The arena, Captain, the games are beginning shortly.” He looked away at that, and believed he saw a deep-set disgust lightly shine over his features.

The men flew, people moved out of their way and other horses quickly evaded their shouts and they stopped at the tall archway of the ominous opening to the arena. Clearances were apparently not needed, as they were quickly welcomed to the exclusive viewing platform of the king.

The man could not believe his eyes, as multiple groups of women were being paraded, blindfolded, and chained, some even gagged. The pair had never had control over the ways the dreams allowed them to meet, but none had ever been so horrific. The man reminded himself of the part he must play as they entered the platform and sunk to a respectable bow, presenting themselves to the king.

“Ah, and here I thought you might not make it at all, sit.” The king commanded.

“We apologize for the tardiness, your majesty, we were securing additional game for your sport.” The man’s Second eyed him carefully as the king remained distracted.

“Well for that I am grateful then, drink and enjoy, you have worked hard for this after all.”

Goblets were given to both men, and they found seats. “What exactly is going on here?” the man asked quietly.

“I knew you had hit your head pretty hard during that last run but certainly you could not have forgotten this?” with no reply, the warrior Second continued. “This is the very creative and cruel display the king enjoys putting on to show to anyone that has a semblance of power that it would be unwise to cross him. He aims to exterminate the entire race of witches.”

The man faked recognition and sat with his expression quickly schooled to bored perfection.

Something about the dream that unfolded before him felt like a challenge to the commitments he had made, and a threat to everything that could come after. The sensations of being watched raised bumps along his body, the room suddenly feeling very warm to carry the gear he had on.

The drums had reached their peak, and the women were halted and roughly turned. The crowd could have disappeared with the silence that followed, and in tandem, blindfolds were unceremoniously ripped from the women around her, including herself.

The brightness of the torches and light around her caused her pause as she adjusted, the chains magically vanishing from around her now bleeding wrists and feet. She scanned the crowd to see that they had been placed before a platform, a large and old man that emanated a dark power at the center. His arms were outstretched, continuing the suspense of the crowd to grow in their silence.

A wicked smile grew on his face, and for a moment the woman believed that he had looked right at her.

“Let the games begin.”

The drums regained their terrorizing tempo, and the group around her remained still in confusion, they searched around, waiting for the threats to be unleashed.

She was a moment away from falling victim to her despair, her attempts to wake up long ago abandoned. For the woman, this would be the final dream she had, the last opportunity wasted, she could sense it.

Above the thrills of the crowd, above even the threats that materialized around her, she heard his cry, she heard her name like a forgotten prayer on his lips as he yelled for her.

He was there, upon the platform, and their eyes locked immediately, she called for the man, and they began to move towards each other.

The dream shifted then, the crowds disappeared like sand and the images of the women around her fell as the dream took a new shape.

The arena had disappeared leaving her very far away from the man, but before a single step could be achieved, tall, dark stone, taller than either the man or the woman would ever be to be able to climb or see over rose around them.

The platform had risen higher, the king gone to reveal something darker and without prominent shape.

“Did you think you would not be found?” its haunting voice filled their minds, scrapping along the edges of their sanity. “Did you think you could come to this place and steal what is mine?”

The man and the woman looked to the heavens that were void of angels or gods to save them as that shadow presence lingered.

“You will not hide so easily from me again. Go and catch what you seek at the center of my maze, if you are worthy enough to make it that far.” The voice faded in the peripherals of their minds with a deep and unsettling laughter.

There was only one path forward for the pair, a million alternatives to be played and conquered after the first step.

Their chests beat with a second rhythm, a power that emanated for only them to experience that they knew would be their key to find each other again.

So they took that first step and prayed they didn’t wake up too soon.