Chapter 2

I was floating on the waves of sleep, my subconscious drifting towards the lighthouse of Nate’s soul. The dream began as they always did, with the golden warmth of sunlight kissing my skin. I watched Nate from a distance, his laughter carrying on the wind like a melody only I could hear. He was on holiday, somewhere in Poland and I was thrilled that he could be so close to me. When I saw he was planning his trip near my village, I almost couldn’t sleep from excitement.

I reveled in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the carefree tilt of his head as he laughed with friends. But then, the sky darkened, and a noticeable tension rippled through the air. People began to scatter, their screams piercing the tranquility like a knife through silk. Nate’s brow furrowed in confusion, his gaze darting around to find the source of the chaos.

That’s when I saw them—witches, cloaked in darkness, their faces obscured by masks that made them look like harbingers of death. Red cloaks billowed behind them as they unleashed torrents of magic upon the unsuspecting mundanes. The air crackled with energy, and the scent of ozone filled my nostrils, even in the dream.

The witches’ hands danced with lethal grace, weaving spells that tore through flesh and bone. Blood painted the cobblestone streets, bodies twisted in grotesque shapes as life was ripped from them without mercy. I felt each death like a stab to my own heart, the despair clawing at my throat, threatening to choke me.

Nate was running now, his face a mask of terror. He tried to help, pulling a woman to her feet only for her to collapse again, a gaping wound where her stomach had been. The witches were toying with their prey, drawing out their suffering with sadistic glee.

I snapped awake, my fists clenched tight, the rage from the vision still coursing through me like a burning fire. There was no time for the grief that gnawed at my soul, no room for the fear that tried to paralyze me. I had to act. With a swift movement born of desperation and ancient instinct, I shifted into a falcon, my body contorting until feathers replaced skin and talons took the place of fingers.

Trying to remember any landmarks in his surroundings, some of the tension in my shoulders relaxed as I realized he wasn’t too far away.

The wind beneath my wings was a fierce ally, carrying me toward the village with a speed that defied nature. Below me, chaos reigned; the idyllic town had become a battlefield, its inhabitants either victims or soon-to-be casualties if help did not arrive soon.

As I descended, I saw Nate—my Nate—fighting against the tide of darkness. His fists were clenched, his face set in a grimace of determination as he tried to shield a child from the onslaught. My heart swelled with pride even as it broke for the innocence lost.

I dove into the fray, my own magic surging forth in a brilliant display of light and power. My song poured from my beak, a battle hymn that bolstered the spirits of those still standing. With each note, I wove protection spells around the mundanes, creating barriers that the dark witches’ magic could not penetrate.

I lashed out with beams of pure energy, cutting down any who dared harm those under my protection. My talons raked across faces, drawing blood and screams from those who had dealt death so casually. I was a force of nature, an avenging angel sent to deliver retribution.

As the last of the dark witches fell, I transformed back into my human form, my dress billowing around me like the wings of a guardian spirit. Nate’s eyes met mine, and in them, I saw recognition, gratitude, and a flicker of something deeper—a connection that transcended dreams and nightmares alike.

In the space between heartbeats, our eyes locked, and the world faded away. Nate’s gaze held a universe of emotions—recognition, gratitude, and a spark of something undefinable yet profoundly familiar. It was as if he knew me, truly knew me, beyond the veil of dreams and into the very essence of my being. Joy surged within me, a wildfire ignited by the possibility that he, too, felt the invisible thread that bound us together.

But then, in the blink of an eye, tragedy struck with the cruelty only reality can muster. A witch, hidden in the shadows, unleashed a torrent of malevolent magic. It cut through the air, a sinister whisper that promised pain and suffering. I saw it coming, a streak of darkness aimed straight for Nate’s heart.

Time slowed to a crawl, and I felt myself moving, reaching out with hands that suddenly seemed too weak, too slow. But I was powerless to stop the inevitable. The spell hit its mark, and Nate crumpled to the ground, his lifeblood painting the cobblestones in crimson hues.

The world shattered around me, its fragments cutting deeper than any physical wound ever could. Grief enveloped me in its suffocating embrace, and I succumbed to the darkness that threatened to consume my very soul. I could no longer feel the ground beneath my feet, the sweat beading on my forehead, or the chill of the wind. The cacophony of screams and chaos that surrounded me turned into a distant echo, fading into nothingness.

My vision tunneled until all I could see was Nate, lying motionless, the light in his eyes dimming with each passing second. The pain was unbearable, a relentless torrent that washed away all else. I was drowning in sorrow, helpless against the tide of despair.

And then, it happened—my vila song, once a wordless melody, began to change. The lyrics flowed from my lips, carried by a voice that seemed to belong to someone else. I sang of love and loss, of dreams turning to dust, and of the heartache that comes with witnessing the fall of a soulmate.

Come, just come

Closer you’ll see

How soft a kiss can be

Follow my voice

And the wind of the night

It may lead to your love

My heart cries as the rain falls

Why love can’t last for life

The song poured out of me, each word a testament to the love I had harbored in silence. It was a lament for what could have been, a dirge for the future that was stolen from us. As the last note hung in the air, a haunting echo of a love cut short, I fell to my knees beside Nate, my tears mingling with his blood on the cold, unforgiving ground.

The ground beneath me was a tapestry of blood and rain, the cold moisture seeping through my white dress, turning the fabric into a second skin that clung to my shivering form. Yet, I felt nothing—no chill from the wetness, no discomfort from the fabric that now bore the stains of tragedy. My body was numb, a vessel devoid of sensation, as if the relentless downpour had washed away my ability to feel.

I cradled Nate’s lifeless body in my arms, his once vibrant eyes now dull and vacant. The world around us had fallen into an eerie silence, the chaos of the battle giving way to a stillness that was almost reverent. It was as if the universe itself held its breath, mourning the loss of a soul so pure and bright.

A sharp pain sliced through my numbness, a searing reminder that the nightmare was far from over. The tip of my pinky finger lay severed on the cobblestone, a small but potent symbol of the violence that had unfolded. The wound throbbed, yet it seemed distant, a mere whisper compared to the agony that clawed at my heart.

The sound of booted feet against the stones should have startled me, but I remained as still as the dead beside me. A figure loomed over me, their presence an ominous shadow that blotted out what little light remained in the day. I did not see their face, nor did I care to.

A voice, cold and cruel, hissed a command into my ear, a chain of words that wrapped around my soul with an iron grip. “Silent and stay silent,” it decreed, and like a marionette whose strings had been pulled, I obeyed. The command took hold, its magic weaving through my being, silencing the song that had continued to flow from my lips unknowingly.

I did not notice its absence, for the silence within me was as complete as the stillness that surrounded us.