The Mystical Knights: The Sword of Dreams (11 page)

              “Nia...” a voice whispered; her body convulsed wildly as her heart thudded, high in her throat now.  There was something warm and thick on her face...the salty smell of iron and metal filled her mouth...

              “Nia!”

Chapter 9: Tears in Heaven

“Can someone wake her up?  She’s bleeding all over my pillow...”

“She’s bleeding all over the
carpet
...”

Nia squeezed her eyes shut tight, wrinkling her nose.  She could feel the strange sensation of sunlight burning her eyelids and the icy cold cocooned around her body like a straight jacket.  Her heart was still pounding, her blood was still racing...her mind felt clouded and fuzzy as if she had been holding her breath for too long and her limbs felt like lead...

“Nia...Nia, wake up.”  A warm hand shook her gently, velvet fingertips brushed back a few stray strands of hair from her forehead.  The familiar voice sounded worried.  “Would someone go get a glass of water?”

There was the soft padding of footfalls and the creak of a door opening...Nia took a deep breath through her nose, felt her hands ball up into tight fists.

“I wonder what she was dreaming about?” a voice mused curiously—a male’s voice.

“I don’t think she was dreaming...” came a haughty, yet concerned reply.

Whoever left the room was back now.  Nia could hear rustling and movement.  Then an icy blast of liquid hit her face, pooling down in torrents.  Her eyes flew open, fluttering quickly as morning light seared through the blackness.  Nia choked and sputtered as some water slipped down her throat.  Her back snapped to attention as she found herself sitting up, head aching.

At some point, Rowan, Quinn and Thor and joined the party. Everyone was gathered around her, watching with an admixture of unease and attentiveness.

“Ugh,” Nia groaned, wiping the front of her face with her hands.  As she pulled them away, she saw that her fingers were painted a crimson red; some of the liquid that was running down her face wasn’t water.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered hoarsely, pulling her night gown up to her nose to wipe away the blood.  Tilting her head back, she felt most of the blood run down the back of her throat; it tasted coppery, like old pennies.

“Are you okay?” Kenzie asked softly, her hand brushing against Nia’s back hesitantly.

“Hmm,” Nia nodded, swallowing more blood and some bile down with it.  She leaned her head forward, gratefully accepting the box of tissues that Thor had passed over.

“What happened?” Thor asked.  “Did you get punched in your dream or something?”

Nia couldn’t help but chuckle; she shook her head.  Brow crinkling, she looked around at the five of them, her eyes curiously staring at Rowan’s worried face.  “What are you guys doing here?”

“Making pancakes,” Quinn chimed in, but even his usually peppy voice wavered uncertainly.

Nia blinked.  "Making pancakes?"  She looked around at Kenzie’s turquoise walls.  “What time is it?”

“Almost quarter of ten,” Fiona replied.

“You were still sleeping so we went downstairs to cook,” Kenzie explained.  Her eyes looked tired and distant. Nia vaguely remembered the sniffling noise she had heard while drifting off to sleep...
Why are you sad? 
“I tried to wake you up and you began...twitching and—
convulsing
—and then your nose just started gushing—” she broke off, placing a pale hand over her mouth, looking rather green.

“I thought you were having a seizure!” Thor put in.

Again, Nia couldn’t help but laugh.  “No,” she said finally, trying to swallow back the dull throb in her throat.  “It wasn’t a seizure.”

“Then what was...
that
?” Rowan asked, gesturing to the blood on the floor.

Nia felt warmth blush her cheeks.  “I was having a...out-of-body experience,” she confessed awkwardly, shifting her eyes towards the plushy white carpet.

The others gawked at her, their eyes somewhat disbelieving.  Rowan’s already furrowed brow creased further, Thor’s mouth fell slack and Fiona and Quinn exchanged an unreadable glance.  Kenzie, if possible, turned even greener.  “You mean,” she stammered, fumbling over her words like a clumsy person stumbling over cobblestone, “that just minutes ago, there was an actual
corpse
in my room?”

Nia shot Kenzie a weary look.  “My heart was still beating—my lungs still breathing.  You can live without a soul—but it isn’t a life worth living.” 

Some color returned to Kenzie’s already pallid skin.

“Does...
that
...happen often?” Thor softly asked.

Nia shrugged.  “Depends on your definition of the word
often
.”  She pulled a shaky hand through her hair and scratched the crown of her head thoughtfully.  “Dream-walking happens more often for me—I can get into other people’s dreams sometimes.  It’s a safer version of having an out-of-body experience.  But the catch is, when you’re dream-walking the corresponding person usually has to be sleeping.  An out-of-body experience...”  Nia trailed off, shutting her eyes as she remembered that very first time when she was seven years old.  “They can be pretty scary.  When I first did it, I wasn’t aware of what was happening—or much of anything really.  I was...floating above my bed, watching my chest rise and fall as I slept and at first, I thought I was dreaming.  I can't remember when I realized what was really happening, but I do remember panicking—I was so terrified that I wouldn’t be able to get back inside my body.”  Nia’s heart raced at the sudden rush of memory.  “When I relaxed enough I was back inside my body and I sat up in my bed screaming.... After that, I was okay.  I knew then, to just relax and everything would happen the way it should.”

“What was with the nosebleed?” Rowan retrieved some more tissues and handed them to Nia.  “Does
that
happen every time?”

“No.”  Nia shut her eyes tightly as a ripple of pain passed through her head.  It felt like her brain was on fire.  “I don’t get nosebleeds often.”  She only ever bled when a psychic dream was intense—or when after an outer-body experience, she was nonetheless
pushed
back inside of herself.  Becoming one was a timely process; if it was ever done the wrong way, pieces of her soul could be forgotten forever and she would be left eternally damaged.  She remembered the fear she had felt when her name had been called—saw the look of suspicion cross Axel’s face as he peered into the forest.  She shuddered.

“Are you hungry?” Quinn asked, his green eyes like pools of emeralds.  “Pancakes are ready—and there is bacon and eggs.”

Nia’s stomach gurgled at the mouthwatering thought of food.  “I’m starving,” she admitted, giving her belly a soothing rub.  “You guys can head downstairs.  I’ll be down in a minute—I just want to,” Nia gestured to her bloody face, “clean up.”

Rowan pushed her hair back over her shoulder as he got to his feet.  His eyes still laced with concern, he gestured to the rest of the Knights and exited the room.  Face still ashen, Kenzie followed suit, looking at Nia with an indifferent look—a look Nia wasn’t expecting from her at all.  Thor and Quinn romped out of the room, tight on Kenzie’s heels and Fiona swooped gracefully towards the door.

It was the perfect opportunity to get Fiona alone—Nia bit her lip indecisively, watching as Fiona reached the doorframe and with a surge of allegiance, Nia spoke.  “Fiona?”

Fiona paused momentarily before facing her, her mysterious eyes, hawk-like and dignified.  She did not speak.

“I saw Axel.”

Fiona shut the door and watched Nia inquiringly.  Nia tried to speak again, but her words dangled at the tip of her tongue.

“You saw Axel?” Fiona prompted.

“Yes.”  Nia swallowed hard and sat up further, leaning back on the palms of her hands.  “I saw him, but he was cloaked in shadows.  I never saw his face, but I heard his name.  There was someone else there too—a female—but I couldn’t see her face either.”

Fiona nodded.  “Axel has many on his side.  It makes it most difficult to trust anyone these days.”

Nia's swallowed her heart back down and creased her eyebrows.  “Do you know anything about the Sword of Dreams?  I know I've seen it before—but I don't know much about it.”

Fiona’s vacant expression darkened; Nia could tell her mind was travelling very far away to a time Nia couldn’t even remember.  As Fiona thought, her eyes darted back and forth as though she were skimming over the pages of an unseen book.  “The Sword of Dreams is a very ancient weapon,” she stated suddenly, her voice sharp yet delicate all at once.  “It’s been lost for centuries.  I’m surprised Axel even knows of it.”

“He doesn't just
know
of it.  He
wants
it.  The Sword.”  Nia’s heart lunged unevenly in her chest like a crappy transmission.  "He's going to do something
evil
with it.

"There's no such thing as good and evil.  There is only existence and life and the choices we make." Fiona stated simply, her eyes narrowing.  “You’re absolutely sure that Axel wants the Sword?”

Nia nodded.  “Yes—that’s where I was.  I was in a forest watching Axel perform this ritual.  The Sword of Dreams came out of this mist and he said that he wanted it.  He-he said that it would make him unstoppable.”

“Even in the right hands, that weapon could make anyone unstoppable.”  Fiona began to pace the floor, lost in thought.  Her long fingers thrummed her chin absently, her eyes half shut.  “But in the wrong hands...he must want it for the
Greys
...They are the only ones old enough to know about it.”

“How do we find the Sword?" Nia asked fiercely, a sense of urgency bubbling from her stomach.

Fiona paused in her walk to give Nia a pointed look.  “It’s funny that you should ask that.”

Confusion furrowed along Nia’s brow.  “Why?”

“Because the Sword of Dreams was a gift that Nefertiti gave to her youngest daughter Setepenre.  She used it only once in battle, but after that, I, myself never saw it again.  She said that
'It wasn't hers to bear.'
  She hid it for one of her descendants to find.”

If possible, Nia’s stomach dropped further into the floor.  “What would
I
do with a weapon like
that
?”

“What would anyone do with a weapon with such magical properties?”  Nia fought the urge to ask why Fiona answered so many questions with more questions.  Fiona shook her head, her unruly red curls quivering past her shoulders.  “It takes a strong mind to wield such a weapon.  It takes practice and immense power to be able to make the Sword do the things that it is capable of doing.”

“I don’t want something that can destroy the world,” Nia started.  “I’m not a very violent person.”

“No, you’re not,” Fiona agreed, “but you are capable of wielding it, I think.  The Sword of Dreams is destined for many things, but in the right hands, only its true master can choose the path it takes.” 

“How do we find to the Sword?” Nia repeated.  Exigency, like fire, was burning her insides, leaving sores of doubt and uncertainty.  "I don't know where to begin to look." 

“I don’t know.”  Fiona’s hand rested on the door handle and she gave Nia a hesitant shrug.  “The only one who can find it, really, is you.”

Her stomach did a strange flip-flop as Fiona slipped quietly from the room.  The door creaked loudly as it swung on the hinges.  Nia sat, staring where Fiona had last stood, pensive and wondering for quite a while.  At last—after many minutes had past—she got to her feet, stretching, gathered her clothes and shuffled her way into the bathroom.  She could hear the others downstairs, joking and laughing, Nia’s experience distant yet pivotal behind them.

Nia grabbed the small yellow bar of soap from the sink.  It smelled of citrus and ginger.  Warm water blasted from the sink as Nia scrubbed her face clean of the dried blood. 
Getting the Sword of Dreams would prove tricky
, she thought, scrunching her eyes shut as she pooled the warm water up to her face.  Nia tried to let her tense mind relax, tried to allow herself to catch a glimpse of the brilliant Sword once more, but it was just as useless as it was pointless.  Blackness covered the Sword now, blindness stealing from sight.

Steam had begun to fog the large mirror, but Nia paid no attention; instead she inhaled deeply, shut her eyes and, clenching the sink’s porcelain edges, she plunged her head into the lukewarm water.  A few bubbles escaped from her nose and mouth.  Her eyes fluttered open briefly; dazzling twinkle lights flitted through the water, like diamonds and the air bubbles that were created by the faucet fizzed across her cheeks.  Something deep within the depths of Nia’s mind shifted a bit—her vision seemed to clear and for a moment she saw the glinting Sword shining as the water streamed across it.  If only she could reach out for it, grab it now—but she couldn’t and for a moment Nia felt frustrated and angry. 

As her lungs tightened sharply in warning, Nia’s fingers relinquished their grip and she pulled away from the water filled sink, gasping for breath and soaking wet.  Water dripped from her hair and her face, landing onto the white tile with a gentle
plink-plink.
  She blinked the water from her eyelashes and reached blindly for the handle.  She found it smoothly and twisted the valve shut, unplugging the sink as well.   The water swirled down the drain with a despondent gurgle.  With an anxious wind of her sopping wet hair, Nia reached for a towel and wound it around her head and squeezed out all the water and patted her face dry. 
I shouldn’t feel so angry
, she told herself while pulling on her black and gold Apple Bottom jeans tee-shirt.  She easily tied the strings in the back and began to pull on a pair of faded jeans. 
The only way to get what you want is to work for it.