Conversations With a Beast, part 8

My… What would you have me call you?

Your mouth rarely smiles, but I watch your eyes… and they move more often. They track me like death, but I know what those daggers wish at the point of their blades. They want to find out if my heart can be piercedYou’ll have to step closer, assassin. Throwing from across this space is too much the gamble. Nothing would take a hit, except your pride.

~ Not yet yours…

I awoke as I sometimes do, composing a letter, correspondence that I never send. Unlike those typical dreams, I had been writing my message upon my thigh. I was still dreaming because the ink was there as I sat up from the lushness of the bedcovers–florid and done up in beautiful illumination. Never one to lie to myself, a clear thought flared across my mind as I gazed at my handiwork. He likes to look at these legs. Maybe he’ll actually read the message for once.

My dream self thought she was clever–clever and still very sleepy as a yawn erupted wide. So I settled back down under the covers and closed my eyes, again. Dream sleep was delicious, because there was a large fire crackling inside an archaic firplace. Its heat radiated from across the foot of the bed. And somewhere against the far wall to my right, there was the cavernous sound of water trickling lazily.

So when the bed dipped and I awoke to a lack of change, I startled completely awake–fully taking in the man seated at my side.

A Red Magus…

His eyes were no longer pearlescent, but the irisis were still rimmed in red. I remembered the transformation and his wrath, but he looked calmer now.

“What happened?”

My hand went to my stomach. Suddenly, the memory was there, rampant and sharp.

“Am I alright?” But what I really wanted to know was, “Am I safe now? What is this place” So I asked those too.

“It’s my domain, and no one will take you from it.”

“I think I’m hallucinating.”

Looking more fully, the room looked too clearly like a lushly appointed cave. The weighted coolness beyond the blaze at my feet whispered of being deep underground.

This is real. I assure you. That other… was the dream.” At my confusion, he added, “It does not make all that has transpired any less real.”

“I enjoy warping worlds, and this is my domain. No one may trespass as I am its creator and its keeper. Please, don’t be horrified. It’s a bad habit, no more.” 

With that, his eyes wandered to where I had kicked off my covers. My face flushed as he took in the entire message.

“I enjoy reading your words. Please, don’t stop writing on my account.”

Forlorn

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