I wish never to wake; only to live my life in dreams for waking is when the nightmare begins.

He ran as he had a thousand nights before. Through a blinding blizzard, the sound of screams, the stench of split ozone, and seared flesh followed every fleeing footstep. He tore through trees and thickets, thin shallow slashes studded his body as branches and barbed thorns raked and rent his flesh. Finally, for the first time in a thousand sleepless nights, Declan broke free of the forest. Fear-maddened steps skidded to a stop when stone and pebble plunged over the cliff’s sheer edge a thousand feet down to the black cold depths below. A hell cold wind sang through the trees biting through his skin and into his bones. The smell of sea salt left a briney taste on his tongue as great black waves the size of mead halls thundered violently into the cliff’s face, the miserable call of gulls rose from below and combined with the mocking chatter of the forest’s crows.

A gust of air sharper and fiercer than any before swept all around him. Freshly fallen snow danced on the wind reflecting and refracting the slowly fading sunlight. The forest screamed a cacophony of crow speech and through the veil of shimmering crystals, Declan saw them emerge from the trees. A woman taller than himself, clad in dark furs, spear, and shield across her back, hood pulled over her head casting her face in shadow. Hoar frost crunched lightly with each measured step of her feet revealing the Guðs gras beneath, the infamous red leaves of The Wolf’s Wood plant leaving a bloody trail in her wake. Her feet were bare save for the sinuous swirl of dark ink that slithered over the tops of each foot and coiled up her legs. At her side matching her step for step was a massive wolf. Ghostly white with paws the size of shovel heads that carried it noiselessly across the frosted earth the creature was so large its head nearly came up to his chest. Dark black eyes stared hard into him. The beast’s mouth twitched and its lip curled into a snarl revealing dagger long teeth. His choice was to plunge into the dark depths below or face this woman and her monster.

There was a soft crunch and a bite of cold as Declan slowly dropped to his knees on the snow-slicked ground. The hulking creature advanced on him, teeth still bared. A low uncertain growl gave ground to the snarling snap of jaw and a beastly bark of threat. Declan closed his eyes and lowered his head giving the wolf his neck. Better to be over with it. Hot breath fresh with the smell of blood rolled over him as the wolf’s massive muzzle moved mere millimeters from him. To his surprise, he found himself ass down in the snow, the great beast nuzzling his neck like a common pup. He embraced the wolf grabbing fistfuls of fur as he pulled the monster down on top of him in a gesture of love and acceptance. The wolf scrambled back to its feet and nipped playfully at Declan before letting loose with a howl that shook the world sending the crows flying in a great ominous cloud of black feather.

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Declan’s heart beat in his throat as he was torn awake to the sound of howling.

I am still dreaming. He thought.

It’s only the wolf dream. He pleaded,. the howling rang out in the night once again causing his very soul to cry out in terror.

“Where is Becks?” Declan asked sharply for no reason other than the fear one could not shake when being forced from sleep.

“Feth are you on about, mate?” Sero his cell mate asked sleepily.

“Bec”irah. Where is she?” He asked again impatiently.

“Feth should I know?” Sero said rolling over and going back to sleep.

I should smell her. Where are you girl?

Her scent was faint. He knew that meant her adjoining cell was empty but he didn’t know why. The boy, Lorenzo, had come to them earlier in the yard with another boy all smiles and finery. They were having a hunt to celebrate his name day and he had invited Becks to go along. The look she had given Declan, equal parts joy and reluctance had not been fair of her. He had no place to tell her no, no matt how much he wished too. he was not her father and even if he were Dominus’ son’s word outweighs any word of a slave and yet still she looked at Declan for his approval. He had not found it in himself to give it but he lied with a reassuring smile all the same.

That was half a day ago or more and she was still not returned. He wished to think of all the logical reasons why and could come up with none, his panic would not allow it.

“Guard! Guard!” Declan yelled over Sero’s protests. After a few moments the guard called Stutter appeared on the other side of the bars.

“I need out.” Declan blurted immediately.

“Ffffor whwhwhwhat?” The guard asked the sneer on his face evident even through the dark and the stuttering.

“Slepptu mér!” Declan commanded with all the will of The Force to be set free. The guard’s eyes flashed a glossy black and then he obeyed. The clank of keys and the whine of rusted metal told Declan he was free.

“Whwhwh-“ the guard started to say. With a flick of Declan’s wrist the guard’s head turned one hundred eighty degrees and he fell in a crumpled heap on the floor.

“Deck, what the kark?” Sero asked staring at the murdered guard. Declan had no time for him. He raced out of the cell naked as his birthing day, the sound of bare feet slapping on stone echoing all through out the corridors until he was up a flight of stone stairs and out on the grounds of Blackborne Manor.

The gentle twinkling of a million lantern bugs made it seem as if he’d stepped directly into the night sky. Well honed senses greater than any human told him the manor house was full of light and life but empty of the one he was searching for.

A whisper on the wind, a breath on the back of his neck. He was running just as he had a thousand nights before.

It is a dream.

He was carried by instinct on legs that grew evermore weary with each passing step. Over lilies, past jasmine, and through hemlock until he came across a sight that stopped him in his tracks. There at the foot of the great sentinel trees, laying atop a bed of discarded pine needles and crushed brown leaves, lay his heart.

By The Gods let this be a dream. Allow me to wake.

She lay still and soft as fallen snow. An arrow had taken her in the back and came out through her left shoulder, another through her right thigh, there were two more in her as well. in her right side down by her hip and the last had pierced her center mark between the shoulder blades, the metal tip burst through her chest glinted in the moonlight.

Slowly he went to her side and knelt beside her softly as if he were afraid to wake her. He pulled her close to him pushing a lock of her honeyed-hair from her face, shocked at how tiny she was. It were though she was a doll, porcelain skinned and frail.

“Mér þykir það leitt, litla systir.” He told the dead girl in his lap. “You deserved more. You deserved…you did not deserve this.”

It was still dark when Declan finished digging. The hardest thing he had ever done was put her in that hole. For a long time he just stared unable to bring himself to cover her and once he had he could not keep the guilt at bay.

I do not know the words. I cannot give you The Rites.

Without The Rites she would be damned. Unable to run and hunt with her ancestors in Freann.

They stole your afterlife as much as they stole this one.

Ég mun hitta þig aftur litla systir. Ég mun kaupa þig til Freann með blóði. eins mikið og það tekur.