After a bit his heart resumed its normal rhythm and he felt himself start to drift. He was so tired. He felt Sasha run her fingers through his hair one last time and he fell asleep.
Sasha did not fall asleep. She sat gently stroking his hair, wide awake and her mind so full it almost hurt. She was scared. Legon had been having some horrible dream and she knew it wasn’t the first. She heard him talking in his sleep last night or the night before- she couldn’t remember. Tonight when she heard him she had gotten up to go to his room. She knew that it was not uncommon for people to talk in their sleep, but it was what he was saying and doing that sent fear coursing through her.
When she entered the room he was whimpering almost like a little child who was hurt, but soon he was thrashing in his bed, his arms flying around and his legs pumping like he was running. He was covered in sweat and the look on his face was one of panic. As if this wasn’t enough, he had all of a sudden stopped moving and just lay trembling in bed. Up to this point she’d planned on waking him up so he could relax and go to sleep, but it seemed to be over. She began to turn when Legon sat up in bed and looked right at her.
“You are mine.”
He then lay back down.
The hoarse voice was not his, and she thought that it wasn’t aimed at her, but rather at him. As soon as his head hit the pillow he jolted back up fully awake and terrified.
She wanted to know more but he needed to sleep. She could find out more later. Something inside her whispered that this had to do with his tattoo, but she didn’t know how.
Her parents had explained to Sasha how Legon had actually been found early in the evening while Legon was still out walking. She was horrified to hear what had taken place, and her fears only seemed to get worse when he walked in, covered in dirt with vomit on his chin. No one had said anything, but they all were worried. He had also found her diary, which she assumed he had found at their picnic site. She had a hunch that he read part of it, but she wasn’t sure how much or what. She didn’t mind if he saw the entries on her normal days, but on the days she had an episode… She didn’t plan on asking him about it because she believed that he had read it only to figure out whose it was.
Her mind came back to his former parents and more important his tattoo. It couldn’t be covered up forever, and she knew that at some point in time someone would see it and know that there was something off. The tattoo had always elicited comments and questions before, but no one suspected that it had been put there by magic. But now, if anyone saw the purple crest they would know instantly. When her father told her how he found Legon, he had shuddered when he said they found a body. He refused to talk about it more. She really didn’t care to think of what he had found there.
The more Sasha thought about it, the more certain she was that they were looking for Legon and that his mother was hiding in the woods to keep her son safe and out of notice. No matter what the past had been, Legon was in trouble now. He would not be able to go anywhere near a large city and it was probably not a good idea for him to be in the empire at all. He would probably be fine in most small towns; people there seemed to keep to themselves more and there were less government officials. He could always go to the resistance and find sanctuary with them. The resistance was to the south, and if he started that way he would find either them or the Elves in a few months.
But Sasha knew that Legon would not be willing to go that far from Salmont, if for no other reason than for her sake. She knew that he was planning on going to Salkay because he could still help their family with taxes.
She felt his head turn a bit. She looked down at her sleeping brother. She was going to miss him a lot. Tears started to form in her eyes. It was hard for her to think of Legon in trouble, and it was worse because she couldn’t do anything about it. She hoped vainly to herself that perhaps he wasn’t in that much trouble after all, that he had been living in Salmont for seventeen years and nothing had happened thus far. Still, there was a sense of foreboding in her. She felt that something bad was coming, and coming fast. As she thought this a slight breeze from the open window played on the back of her neck as if to enforce the point. The life she had always known was over, and she wasn’t sure what lay ahead. Sasha felt her eyelids getting heavy and felt her mind become fuzzy. She tried to fight the feeling. She had to stay up. She needed to figure this out.
No matter what she tried, sleep was coming for her and there was nothing to do about it. Her head tilted to the side, resting on the top of Legon’s head, and she fell asleep.
Chapter Five
“Perspective is one of the strongest dictators of self. How we perceive ourselves is paramount; though this is considered a trite argument to make, it is nevertheless true. Does that mean that we cannot combat our current state, or in some way lessen or increase our standing in the world by merely changing our perspective of ourselves? Perhaps.”
Legon awoke leaning against a sleeping Sasha, her head against his. He could feel her breath against the top of his head. “I hope she didn’t drool in her sleep”, he thought. As he started to move his head she woke, and they both sat up. He tilted his head to the side and heard the satisfying sound of his neck pop.
He turned to look at Sasha. “That was a bad one last night. I don’t think I’ve ever had a dream like that.”
“I figured as much. You were thrashing in your bed and making all sorts of noise when I came in. What was the dream about?”
He relayed what he remembered of the dream to her. She listened and spoke when he got to the part about the dragon speaking to him. “I remember that you sat up and looked right through me and said ‘You are mine’ in this growling voice.”
“I did? That was the worst part, and then right after that it ate me, or at least I think it did. I woke up.”
He left out what he was feeling right before the dragon spoke. It ran through his head and he felt a twinge of shame. Sasha had stayed with him all night with only the wall for a pillow, and just a few hours ago he had been thinking about leaving her to save his own neck.
She paused “We were talking last night about what your tattoo may mean.”
Of course they were. It wasn’t a new topic of conversation, but changing colors would have added a new wrinkle.
“And?”
“Well I guess Arkin told our parents a few years back that Elves only marked their own. So he thinks you’re part Elf.”
He tensed. “And why didn’t mom tell me this yesterday?”
She looked at him. “Well, we don’t know for sure, and do you think you could have handled it? Was it worth adding more stress to your day over a theory from the town carpenter?”
If he was being honest, the answer was no. He couldn’t have handled it. But how was Arkin an expert on this?
“Do you agree with Arkin?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. Think about it: what do we know about Elves? They are like Iumenta.”
“Yeah, but I don’t see how that connects.”
“You are stronger and faster than anyone your size, Legon. You seem to have an edge at everything. Maybe that has to do with your parents.”
He was about to protest, then thought about walking home in the dark last night. “Maybe you’re right. It just
