Lost Dream


Nov 2, 2020
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Lost Dream
Leon Dragic

Royal Dragic Publishing
28 AC



A dream, or so I am told. The performance, for that it surely was, I overheard in a tavern. The storyteller agreed to a decent sum so I might adjust and publish the tale. The following is my meagre attempt to scribe, its wonder.


She shuddered awake. Something was missing. Frosted air billowed from her as she rose. Her skin crawled, as echoing cries crept, down a gloomy hall. How long had they sounded? She followed the mournful, longing calls. The calling stopped. Had it heard her? It scratched at the door as she shuffled near. It cried again. Or was it the door? She could not tell. The portal opened, creaking endlessly.
What she had forgotten greeted her with a cry. A pair of eyes glared accusingly at her while another pleaded. She gathered the judicial form in her arms. Wet fur soaked her gown. She shivered anew as she placed her charge by the fireplace. The judge presided as she drew the stones and struck them. The stones cracked, and sparked. The hearth smouldered to life. Warmth seeped from it. A new, satisfied cry, graced her ears. She was dismissed. The case clearly resolved.
She returned to the threshold and cried aloud. Her remaining sodden charge had fallen. Not two steps and it had collapsed. She rushed to its side, and swept it into her arms.
The bundle of matted hair held no warmth. She hurried to the fire. Snatching at rags and robes. She wrapped and she swaddled. But it remained cold.
She went for the kettle. Water sloshed as she placed it above the fire. The fire crackled. The contented form slept. The kettle whistled. The cold, weary creature gave a soft cry. She drew a cloth and wet it. She massaged the cold fur. But it remained cold.
The chilled coat shuddered. Clumps of hair came loose. Skin gave way and bones buckled.
She shrieked, and bolted to the hall. Her chest heaved in air. Her body vibrated, chilled by cold and shock. She rubbed her arms. But she remained cold.
Her breathing calmed. She reentered the room.
A figure stood there. There was no cat.
“Having that dream again are we?”
She rose from her bed and shivered. Nothing was missing now. But she remained cold.


Lost Dreams is now available at Pen and Plate and Dragic Ends, both located in Fyrmana.


The real origins of this short story are much like the preface: some truth with much embelishment.

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