NaNoWriMo, part 18
Nov. 25th, 2006 05:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bookish_dragon"We need to talk," Bjernu said, after the two women had left the room.
"Does it have to be now?" Marnak asked. "It has been a long day."
"Yes, now. This has been going on longer than today. This is a good a time as any, first time we have had any sort of quiet and privacy." He nodded at Ameena, who was sitting in a corner and meditating. She gave no sign of hearing anything, she was meditating too deeply for that. "No offence to her, but this is rather personal." Bjernu sat back on the upturned crate he was using as a chair.
Marnak sighed. "Then start. By all means, start."
Bjernu looked at the priest for a long time. "What were you doing these last couple of weeks? What has come into you? You never used to be that bitten on being the leader and all that. Making sure we all knew who was in charge. You turned into a very unpleasant person. Emmar and Ameena noticed it too, and they have only known you for about two weeks. Agreeing to that contraption, collar, or whatever it was supposed to be. The Marnak I left with all those years ago never would have done that. And then you go revert to that old behaviour today. Is that staying? We need, want, that more than we want the you from the last week."
Marnak put his face in his hands, and looked at the floor. Might made right. Did he have might? The strong should lead the weak. It was something that Kord, strongest by far, proclaimed, when He was not off brawling with dragons or judging major sports-competitions. He could say he was only following his god, but he knew that that was not the case. Whatever influence had been in his head, it had not been Kord. It had not felt the same, he realised now that he was looking back on it. It had not been Kord urging him to stand up and throw his weight about, making himself a nuisance while doing it. "I do not know. I really do not. The strong should lead the weak, it is one of the tenets of my faith, as you know." He held up his hand to stop Bjernu from protesting. "Please, let me finish. The strong should lead the weak, but none of you are weak." Bjernu looked mollified. "You are welcome. What did happen, I do not know. The thought had taken hold in my head, and would not budge. I listened too much to it, mistaking it for the voice of Kord. I will have to atone to Him for that. It is shameful behaviour on my end, and not exemplary of what He meant. Part of it is that I felt left out. Olgyu and Emmar, you and Ameena...I do not protest what relations have grown between you, and please do not think that I want you to stop whatever you have. I am not suicidal enough to tell Olgyu to leave Emmar." Marnak smiled a bit. "Whatever is going on, I applaud it. However, it did make me feel all on my own."
"You should have said something," Bjernu interrupted. "We did not mean to, but you were becoming more difficult to talk to."
"I know." Marnak looked unhappy. "That is part of it. The other part, I do not know. That thought just became stronger and stronger, and I did not recognise its badness. 'Might makes right', it is not something I normally believe in. But I felt that I had no choice but to listen to it. When I saw you and Ameena on the floor of that room, that changed. I remembered who I was, what I was, what I really believed and thought valuable. I may not be the best leader, Kord forgive me, but I am not a traitor to my friends either. I am sorry for dragging you this far into it. I should not have agreed to that condition." Marnak stopped talking.
Bjernu was silent. He did not know what to think. He was glad that Marnak had recalled in time who he really was, but the ease with which he had forgotten was scary. "Will this be permanent? Will you behave like you used to? The Marnak I set out with?"
"That is ridiculous. I am not the same as I was then, just like you are not the inexperienced little boy I set out with." Marnak smiled. "What I can and will do is try and be a good leader, not like I have been acting recently, but how I have been before. And trust that you will tell me if I walk down the wrong path."
Bjernu returned the smile. "I was not a little boy! I was an adult by that time."
"For an elf you were, and are, still a child. You have barely hit puberty."
"Mine was bad enough. It drove my mother crazy. I would not want on that lasts four times as long. How do elven parents manage this?"
"Tranquilizers and earplugs. And trying to foist the children off on unsuspecting family."
They laughed together, then stopped as they realised where they were and hoped nobody had heard them.
It was a long hall with a lot of doors leading to spaces which all turned out to be storage-rooms. Used storage-rooms. That did not promise much for an hour of illicit pleasure, Olgyu thought, who did not want to repeat the experience of shagging in a potato-cellar. The dirt had not been the worst part of that...She and Emmar went on looking for something a bit more empty and much more comfortable.
"Excuse me, what are you doing here? You are not allowed to come back here," a voice from behind them called out. They turned around. A very pink and clean-looking young man was standing there, his robes so white and pristine that they had to be new. He was regarding them with a look that he hoped was stern and forbidding, but he did not pull it off. He was looking very innocent and young, something which was accentuated by his wide open eyes and quivering lip. "I am sorry, visitors are not allowed in this part of the church." Olgyu was staring at him, making him feel uncomfortable. it was obvious she liked what she was seeing.
"We are sorry," Emmar said. "We must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. We did not mean to trespass. Could you show us the way back?" She poked her elbow in Olgyu's side. She did not like the look on the other woman's face.
"Yes, of course. This way, please," the priest said. He walked off, the pair in tow.
"Do not stare at him like he is some kind of dessert," Emmar hissed at Olgyu as they were walking.
"I am not. I am just looking," Olgyu protested, softly as well. She kept her eyes on the priest's back.
"Well, do not do that," Emmar huffed.
Olgyu sighed. "We will talk about this later."
The priest looked behind him. "Are you all right?" He was looking worried.
"We are. Why are you asking?" Emmar said.
He turned red. "I did not mean to eavesdrop, but I did hear you talk and you were sounding a bit angry."
Emmar smiled. "Thank you for your concern, but we are all right." She glanced at Olgyu.
"Here we are," the priest said, finally. They were standing in a large hall. It was warm here, even though there was no sun out.
Emmar looked around with her eyes wide open. "It is amazing!" She turned around her axis, trying to take it all in.
"It is not bad," Olgyu said. She did not care much for temples, but this was not a bad one. "That is a very impressive statue. What is it made of?"
"I can not tell you that, I am afraid," the priest said. "It is a very close-guarded secret."
'Wooden base and gilded then,' Olgyu thought. Still, they had taken great pains to depict Pelor as best they could. Him holding that sun like that made it not hard to recognise whose church they were in.
"Can I help you any other way?" the priest asked.
"Maybe," Olgyu said. "Do you rent out rooms to weary travellers?"
"There are some inns close by," the priest said. "We only give out rooms to those who are also in Pelor's service, and who wish to stay the night here."
"Ah, that is a shame. We are new in town and we do not know our way around yet," Olgyu lied smoothly.
The priest was visibly pondering what to do. He scrunged up his face and chewed his lower lip. It would not take much to get him to concede into giving them a room, Olgyu knew. She leaned forward a bit, much to Emmar's chagrin.
"I have got a nice room," a man behind the priest said. He was looking directly at Emmar. "The bed especially is very nice. Had it brought here from the capitol. What do you say we go and try it out?"
"Sir chief constable Schaffer!" the priest stuttered. "I did not know you were standing there. My apologies for ignoring you."
"Go away, I am not talking to you." The priest practically ran off. With the blonde woman leering at him, and chief constable Schaffer talking to him, he found that he needed a drink. And a sympathetic ear. "Well dear, what about it?"
Olgyu and Emmar looked at the chief constable, taking in his carefully tousled hair, to the smile that did not reach his eyes, to the smoking pipe to the pressed trousers to his shiny shoes. Olgyu did not like him. He was too pretty, and she did not like people hitting on Emmar, she had now found out. Emmar thought much the same things. "No, thanks," she said. "I am not interested."
“I bet I can make you.” He grabbed her arm, pulling her close and kissing her. She struggled to get free. “Hold still,” he said, breaking off the kiss.
“Let go off me,” she said. He pulled her to him again. She stood on his foot, grinding down. He grimaced and winced but did not let her go. Emmar brought her leg up and kneed him in the groin. Schaffer went down.
“Nice going,” Olgyu said. “He is still writhing though, so next time do it harder. They pass out that way. Now, we will have to go. Unless you ant to stay here when he wakes up. He might not be as friendly as he was before, though.”
“Like I would want him to be. Come on,” Emmar said. They walked off, quickly.
“You can not do that!” the chief constable wheezed, when the worst pain had receded enough for him to want and try and speak. He peered up. There was no one there. Those two women had done a runner. Schaffer got up slowly, hand pressed tightly against his groin. It hurt phenomenally, and he only managed to by sheer force of will. His eyes were still watering. He saw a dim shape ahead of him. “You! Get over here and help me,” he barked at the indistinct figure he saw passing him. “I need agents, now.”
“What is the trouble, chief constable Schaffer?” Vender said.
Schaffer groaned inwardly. That was the last person he wanted to see. “I got kneed in the groin, that is that what the trouble is. Have you seen my pipe?” he snapped at Vender.
Vender kicked the pipe out of sight. He had hated the thing the moment he had seen it. “No, I have not. Who did this regrettable deed to you?"
“Some bitch with red hair and who was dressed in black. She was rather pretty, though.”
“That almost makes it worth it, does it not? She is not one of mine,” Vender said.
“No, it bloody well does not,” Schaffer snapped. He doubled over again and did not speak for a while. “I know she is not,” he finally managed. “The person she was with, tall, blonde, said something about arriving today. They were travellers.”
“What are you still doing here? Go after her,” Vender suggested. “Or is you brain still refusing to work, chief constable Schaffer?”
“I am trying, high pries Vender.” Schaffer shot him a poisonous look. “But I have been injured, as you can see.”
“That will put a crimp in your social life for a while, yes.” Vender said. “Shall I call some of your agents, chief constable Schaffer?” He was enjoying himself. He watched the man nod, and leisurely walked off. He could not bring himself to sympathise with the man, despite his injury. Schaffer had only gotten what he deserved, as far as Vender was concerned. Shame not more women had done the same. Maybe he would have learned earlier.
After his talk with Marnak Bjernu looked in on Ameena. She was still closed off to the world. He could tell by the rising and falling of her chest that she was still alive. He sat down next to her. Was this love, that he was feeling? He certainly liked her, a lot. But did he love her? It was hard to say. He did want her to stay around for a long time. He sighed. It must be love then. He reached out his hand and touched one of her curls. She had nice hair. It would be nicer if she could wash it more often. He smirked at the thought, They could all do with a good wash after two weeks on the road. There was not much opportunity for one on the road. Bjernu dozed off, his hand drifted down to lie on Ameena’s shoulder.
It was dark. It was always dark here. In the beginning it had been light, almost sunny and fun to be. The dark ahd set in slowly over the years, hard to notice at first. Now it was all doom and gloom. She looked around her. There was nothing in sight, only darkness. She started to walk. It did not matter where she went, she had to walk. Red streaks appeared over her head, coming up to her and fading into the blackness behind her. The ground beneath her feet was soft and yielding. There was no sand. Bemusedly she noted that she was not wearing any boots or shoes. She trudged on. She knew that something was going to happen, and that staying here would not help her. If she did not go, it would only come where she was standing. Suddenly she found herself in meadow. The sun was shining and the sky was blue. There was not a cloud in sight. The grass was green and springy under her feet, tickling her bare soles. Unseen birds were twittering. She wandered, picking flowers as she went. It was very peaceful here. A slight breeze played with her curls.
A faint trembling came from underneath her feet. She stopped. The trembling stopped too. Had it really been there? She walked on, unconcernedly.
“Ameena,” a voice whispered in her ear. It was rich and oily. She shivered and kept on walking. “You can not get away from me. I know you so well I could write a book about you.” She raised an eyebrow. That was a new line. She stopped and waited. It was only the voice this time. She could deal with that. Hideous screaming colours appeared in the sky, blotches of sickly yellow and screaming purple. The circled around her, faster and faster. The ground trembled again. It was unmistakeable this time. Cracks appeared in the ground. The smell of sulphur wafted up and she could hear boiling lava. The temperature around her rose fast. She ran away. The twittering of the birds faded away, taken over by the sounds of clods of earth hitting the lava and getting swallowed and burned. She could not get off the meadow. Cracks appeared under her feet, ahead of her, behind her. She was surrounded. The sky had gone dark. The only light the lava under the ground.
“Let me go!” she screamed. The ground opened beneath her feet and she fell forever. Wind blew past her, as the lava roared in her ears.
“I am always here, Ameena. Watching waiting. For you. You can not get away from me. I will never let you go. You are mine. I am a part of you. One day you will give in to me. Such fun we shall have at that time, you and I.”
“Go away! Leave me alone. I do not want you, nor will I ever. I want a normal life,” she shouted. She was tumbling and turning with nothing to hold on to in her endless fall. She curled up into a ball, shielding herself against anything that might happen. She could not say anymore, this did not go the way it was supposed to.
“A normal life is not for you and you know it. You will not let yourself have one. However, this boy, Bjernu. He seems a good choice. Maybe he is more receptive than you are.” It cackled, a fatty laughter.
“Stay away from him!” she screamed. She felt nauseous. “He is not for you.”
“He is not for you either,” the voice whispered. “I am the only one who is good enough for you. You can never get away from me. Give yourself over to me.”
“Never!” she screamed. “Never, never, never, never, never!” She closed her eyes tightly.
“Ameena, wake up, “ a voice said in her ear. A hand had been placed over her mouth. “Please wake up.” Disoriented she trashed about, hitting whoever was sitting next to her in the chest. “Oof!” The hand jerked but stayed in place. “Ameena, please wake up. It is only me. You were screaming, that is why my hand is over your mouth. Everything is all right. I am here. You are safe, Ameena.” Her brain dredged up the name ‘Bjernu’. Slowly she opened her eyes.
"Does it have to be now?" Marnak asked. "It has been a long day."
"Yes, now. This has been going on longer than today. This is a good a time as any, first time we have had any sort of quiet and privacy." He nodded at Ameena, who was sitting in a corner and meditating. She gave no sign of hearing anything, she was meditating too deeply for that. "No offence to her, but this is rather personal." Bjernu sat back on the upturned crate he was using as a chair.
Marnak sighed. "Then start. By all means, start."
Bjernu looked at the priest for a long time. "What were you doing these last couple of weeks? What has come into you? You never used to be that bitten on being the leader and all that. Making sure we all knew who was in charge. You turned into a very unpleasant person. Emmar and Ameena noticed it too, and they have only known you for about two weeks. Agreeing to that contraption, collar, or whatever it was supposed to be. The Marnak I left with all those years ago never would have done that. And then you go revert to that old behaviour today. Is that staying? We need, want, that more than we want the you from the last week."
Marnak put his face in his hands, and looked at the floor. Might made right. Did he have might? The strong should lead the weak. It was something that Kord, strongest by far, proclaimed, when He was not off brawling with dragons or judging major sports-competitions. He could say he was only following his god, but he knew that that was not the case. Whatever influence had been in his head, it had not been Kord. It had not felt the same, he realised now that he was looking back on it. It had not been Kord urging him to stand up and throw his weight about, making himself a nuisance while doing it. "I do not know. I really do not. The strong should lead the weak, it is one of the tenets of my faith, as you know." He held up his hand to stop Bjernu from protesting. "Please, let me finish. The strong should lead the weak, but none of you are weak." Bjernu looked mollified. "You are welcome. What did happen, I do not know. The thought had taken hold in my head, and would not budge. I listened too much to it, mistaking it for the voice of Kord. I will have to atone to Him for that. It is shameful behaviour on my end, and not exemplary of what He meant. Part of it is that I felt left out. Olgyu and Emmar, you and Ameena...I do not protest what relations have grown between you, and please do not think that I want you to stop whatever you have. I am not suicidal enough to tell Olgyu to leave Emmar." Marnak smiled a bit. "Whatever is going on, I applaud it. However, it did make me feel all on my own."
"You should have said something," Bjernu interrupted. "We did not mean to, but you were becoming more difficult to talk to."
"I know." Marnak looked unhappy. "That is part of it. The other part, I do not know. That thought just became stronger and stronger, and I did not recognise its badness. 'Might makes right', it is not something I normally believe in. But I felt that I had no choice but to listen to it. When I saw you and Ameena on the floor of that room, that changed. I remembered who I was, what I was, what I really believed and thought valuable. I may not be the best leader, Kord forgive me, but I am not a traitor to my friends either. I am sorry for dragging you this far into it. I should not have agreed to that condition." Marnak stopped talking.
Bjernu was silent. He did not know what to think. He was glad that Marnak had recalled in time who he really was, but the ease with which he had forgotten was scary. "Will this be permanent? Will you behave like you used to? The Marnak I set out with?"
"That is ridiculous. I am not the same as I was then, just like you are not the inexperienced little boy I set out with." Marnak smiled. "What I can and will do is try and be a good leader, not like I have been acting recently, but how I have been before. And trust that you will tell me if I walk down the wrong path."
Bjernu returned the smile. "I was not a little boy! I was an adult by that time."
"For an elf you were, and are, still a child. You have barely hit puberty."
"Mine was bad enough. It drove my mother crazy. I would not want on that lasts four times as long. How do elven parents manage this?"
"Tranquilizers and earplugs. And trying to foist the children off on unsuspecting family."
They laughed together, then stopped as they realised where they were and hoped nobody had heard them.
It was a long hall with a lot of doors leading to spaces which all turned out to be storage-rooms. Used storage-rooms. That did not promise much for an hour of illicit pleasure, Olgyu thought, who did not want to repeat the experience of shagging in a potato-cellar. The dirt had not been the worst part of that...She and Emmar went on looking for something a bit more empty and much more comfortable.
"Excuse me, what are you doing here? You are not allowed to come back here," a voice from behind them called out. They turned around. A very pink and clean-looking young man was standing there, his robes so white and pristine that they had to be new. He was regarding them with a look that he hoped was stern and forbidding, but he did not pull it off. He was looking very innocent and young, something which was accentuated by his wide open eyes and quivering lip. "I am sorry, visitors are not allowed in this part of the church." Olgyu was staring at him, making him feel uncomfortable. it was obvious she liked what she was seeing.
"We are sorry," Emmar said. "We must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. We did not mean to trespass. Could you show us the way back?" She poked her elbow in Olgyu's side. She did not like the look on the other woman's face.
"Yes, of course. This way, please," the priest said. He walked off, the pair in tow.
"Do not stare at him like he is some kind of dessert," Emmar hissed at Olgyu as they were walking.
"I am not. I am just looking," Olgyu protested, softly as well. She kept her eyes on the priest's back.
"Well, do not do that," Emmar huffed.
Olgyu sighed. "We will talk about this later."
The priest looked behind him. "Are you all right?" He was looking worried.
"We are. Why are you asking?" Emmar said.
He turned red. "I did not mean to eavesdrop, but I did hear you talk and you were sounding a bit angry."
Emmar smiled. "Thank you for your concern, but we are all right." She glanced at Olgyu.
"Here we are," the priest said, finally. They were standing in a large hall. It was warm here, even though there was no sun out.
Emmar looked around with her eyes wide open. "It is amazing!" She turned around her axis, trying to take it all in.
"It is not bad," Olgyu said. She did not care much for temples, but this was not a bad one. "That is a very impressive statue. What is it made of?"
"I can not tell you that, I am afraid," the priest said. "It is a very close-guarded secret."
'Wooden base and gilded then,' Olgyu thought. Still, they had taken great pains to depict Pelor as best they could. Him holding that sun like that made it not hard to recognise whose church they were in.
"Can I help you any other way?" the priest asked.
"Maybe," Olgyu said. "Do you rent out rooms to weary travellers?"
"There are some inns close by," the priest said. "We only give out rooms to those who are also in Pelor's service, and who wish to stay the night here."
"Ah, that is a shame. We are new in town and we do not know our way around yet," Olgyu lied smoothly.
The priest was visibly pondering what to do. He scrunged up his face and chewed his lower lip. It would not take much to get him to concede into giving them a room, Olgyu knew. She leaned forward a bit, much to Emmar's chagrin.
"I have got a nice room," a man behind the priest said. He was looking directly at Emmar. "The bed especially is very nice. Had it brought here from the capitol. What do you say we go and try it out?"
"Sir chief constable Schaffer!" the priest stuttered. "I did not know you were standing there. My apologies for ignoring you."
"Go away, I am not talking to you." The priest practically ran off. With the blonde woman leering at him, and chief constable Schaffer talking to him, he found that he needed a drink. And a sympathetic ear. "Well dear, what about it?"
Olgyu and Emmar looked at the chief constable, taking in his carefully tousled hair, to the smile that did not reach his eyes, to the smoking pipe to the pressed trousers to his shiny shoes. Olgyu did not like him. He was too pretty, and she did not like people hitting on Emmar, she had now found out. Emmar thought much the same things. "No, thanks," she said. "I am not interested."
“I bet I can make you.” He grabbed her arm, pulling her close and kissing her. She struggled to get free. “Hold still,” he said, breaking off the kiss.
“Let go off me,” she said. He pulled her to him again. She stood on his foot, grinding down. He grimaced and winced but did not let her go. Emmar brought her leg up and kneed him in the groin. Schaffer went down.
“Nice going,” Olgyu said. “He is still writhing though, so next time do it harder. They pass out that way. Now, we will have to go. Unless you ant to stay here when he wakes up. He might not be as friendly as he was before, though.”
“Like I would want him to be. Come on,” Emmar said. They walked off, quickly.
“You can not do that!” the chief constable wheezed, when the worst pain had receded enough for him to want and try and speak. He peered up. There was no one there. Those two women had done a runner. Schaffer got up slowly, hand pressed tightly against his groin. It hurt phenomenally, and he only managed to by sheer force of will. His eyes were still watering. He saw a dim shape ahead of him. “You! Get over here and help me,” he barked at the indistinct figure he saw passing him. “I need agents, now.”
“What is the trouble, chief constable Schaffer?” Vender said.
Schaffer groaned inwardly. That was the last person he wanted to see. “I got kneed in the groin, that is that what the trouble is. Have you seen my pipe?” he snapped at Vender.
Vender kicked the pipe out of sight. He had hated the thing the moment he had seen it. “No, I have not. Who did this regrettable deed to you?"
“Some bitch with red hair and who was dressed in black. She was rather pretty, though.”
“That almost makes it worth it, does it not? She is not one of mine,” Vender said.
“No, it bloody well does not,” Schaffer snapped. He doubled over again and did not speak for a while. “I know she is not,” he finally managed. “The person she was with, tall, blonde, said something about arriving today. They were travellers.”
“What are you still doing here? Go after her,” Vender suggested. “Or is you brain still refusing to work, chief constable Schaffer?”
“I am trying, high pries Vender.” Schaffer shot him a poisonous look. “But I have been injured, as you can see.”
“That will put a crimp in your social life for a while, yes.” Vender said. “Shall I call some of your agents, chief constable Schaffer?” He was enjoying himself. He watched the man nod, and leisurely walked off. He could not bring himself to sympathise with the man, despite his injury. Schaffer had only gotten what he deserved, as far as Vender was concerned. Shame not more women had done the same. Maybe he would have learned earlier.
After his talk with Marnak Bjernu looked in on Ameena. She was still closed off to the world. He could tell by the rising and falling of her chest that she was still alive. He sat down next to her. Was this love, that he was feeling? He certainly liked her, a lot. But did he love her? It was hard to say. He did want her to stay around for a long time. He sighed. It must be love then. He reached out his hand and touched one of her curls. She had nice hair. It would be nicer if she could wash it more often. He smirked at the thought, They could all do with a good wash after two weeks on the road. There was not much opportunity for one on the road. Bjernu dozed off, his hand drifted down to lie on Ameena’s shoulder.
It was dark. It was always dark here. In the beginning it had been light, almost sunny and fun to be. The dark ahd set in slowly over the years, hard to notice at first. Now it was all doom and gloom. She looked around her. There was nothing in sight, only darkness. She started to walk. It did not matter where she went, she had to walk. Red streaks appeared over her head, coming up to her and fading into the blackness behind her. The ground beneath her feet was soft and yielding. There was no sand. Bemusedly she noted that she was not wearing any boots or shoes. She trudged on. She knew that something was going to happen, and that staying here would not help her. If she did not go, it would only come where she was standing. Suddenly she found herself in meadow. The sun was shining and the sky was blue. There was not a cloud in sight. The grass was green and springy under her feet, tickling her bare soles. Unseen birds were twittering. She wandered, picking flowers as she went. It was very peaceful here. A slight breeze played with her curls.
A faint trembling came from underneath her feet. She stopped. The trembling stopped too. Had it really been there? She walked on, unconcernedly.
“Ameena,” a voice whispered in her ear. It was rich and oily. She shivered and kept on walking. “You can not get away from me. I know you so well I could write a book about you.” She raised an eyebrow. That was a new line. She stopped and waited. It was only the voice this time. She could deal with that. Hideous screaming colours appeared in the sky, blotches of sickly yellow and screaming purple. The circled around her, faster and faster. The ground trembled again. It was unmistakeable this time. Cracks appeared in the ground. The smell of sulphur wafted up and she could hear boiling lava. The temperature around her rose fast. She ran away. The twittering of the birds faded away, taken over by the sounds of clods of earth hitting the lava and getting swallowed and burned. She could not get off the meadow. Cracks appeared under her feet, ahead of her, behind her. She was surrounded. The sky had gone dark. The only light the lava under the ground.
“Let me go!” she screamed. The ground opened beneath her feet and she fell forever. Wind blew past her, as the lava roared in her ears.
“I am always here, Ameena. Watching waiting. For you. You can not get away from me. I will never let you go. You are mine. I am a part of you. One day you will give in to me. Such fun we shall have at that time, you and I.”
“Go away! Leave me alone. I do not want you, nor will I ever. I want a normal life,” she shouted. She was tumbling and turning with nothing to hold on to in her endless fall. She curled up into a ball, shielding herself against anything that might happen. She could not say anymore, this did not go the way it was supposed to.
“A normal life is not for you and you know it. You will not let yourself have one. However, this boy, Bjernu. He seems a good choice. Maybe he is more receptive than you are.” It cackled, a fatty laughter.
“Stay away from him!” she screamed. She felt nauseous. “He is not for you.”
“He is not for you either,” the voice whispered. “I am the only one who is good enough for you. You can never get away from me. Give yourself over to me.”
“Never!” she screamed. “Never, never, never, never, never!” She closed her eyes tightly.
“Ameena, wake up, “ a voice said in her ear. A hand had been placed over her mouth. “Please wake up.” Disoriented she trashed about, hitting whoever was sitting next to her in the chest. “Oof!” The hand jerked but stayed in place. “Ameena, please wake up. It is only me. You were screaming, that is why my hand is over your mouth. Everything is all right. I am here. You are safe, Ameena.” Her brain dredged up the name ‘Bjernu’. Slowly she opened her eyes.
