Lucid Waking

Between Night and Day

Originally published on January 06, 2006

            “There are creatures in the world where day is night and night is day. They are fearsome savages set on blood and nightmares. They prey on those alone and helpless. Even the drow fear them. They are beautiful, but do not believe everything you see. Talons grow from their hands and feet and their teeth are sharp and long. Their eyes can shatter stone and their lips whisper pain. People that have been devoured by them are only found as bloody skeletons lost and long gone in the middle of the woods. They are the Orne-gwaith and their home is an unsurpassable labyrinth of trees.”
            “If you are telling me this to frighten me, I have no fear,” the young man said. His chin rested in his palm and his face was drawn.
            “Only the fearful say that.” The older woman had silver white hair and she sat at the table with her embroidery in her lap. Her needle moved in and out of the cloth with expert speed. Scenes of dragons and wraiths lay on the cloth, destruction and chaos portrayed in its threads.
            “Or, the very foolish,” a young girl walked into the room. Her onyx black hair fell over her shoulders and her arms. Her steps made soft clicks on the marble floor as she crossed over to the window. “Perhaps he is not ready for such stories, Safta.”
            “Don’t be silly, girl. If he wishes to be a true king, then he will know of such creatures. It’s important that he knows the dangers and responsibilities of a ruler.”
            The girl raised one eyebrow, but she remained silent. The boy rose and pushed in his chair. “Thank you, Safta,” he said glancing at the girl. He bowed before leaving the room.
            “Poor boy, he doesn’t know what kind of things are out there. Head always in the clouds,” the girl watched him leave and shook her head.
            “You shouldn’t talk about your brother like that,” the woman reprimanded, “Besides, he is plenty ready to be king.”
            The girl snickered, but her back was to the woman. “He better be.”

“Not much between despair and ecstasy”

Between Night and Day