When she opened her eyes, she was back at the beach from her dream.
The icy water kissed her toes again and she offered no resistance. She didn’t run away and let the tsunami wave engulf her but, instead of dragging her to the darkness, it transported her to a completely different, dry landscape.
The rectangular room was made of large grey stones and the designs on the ceiling reminded her of a gothic British cathedral except there were no wooden benches. Two grand glass windows were built on each side of the walls to let the golden rays of sun brighten upon the area. An extremely large, exquisite emerald green velvet carpet ran from the main double-doors, climbed up the six steps and covered the entire altar, where two intertwined oak chairs were standing, side by side, connected by a single armchair. They were magnificent and overlooked the entire place. Right above and in between the two thrones, a massive, emerald-green-and-gold heraldic flag was portrayed. A millenary tree was beautifully painted in the centre and, above it, there was a silver crown with an emerald eye carved where there should be a gem. She noticed that the tree’s green leaves had a silver glow when the sunlight coming through the glass windows reflected upon it; the tree’s roots drank their source of vitamins and minerals from a vintage wine-coloured river flowing underneath it and two abundant golden wheat branches crossed in the middle of the trunk. Mia spotted six other heraldic flags displayed at the side walls’ pillars. Them all posed bright, different colours and exquisite coat of arms. The images printed on them seemed so real, as if they were alive. Whoever painted those, did an excellent job.
Feeling an incontrollable impulse, Mia climbed up the stairs and accommodated herself on the rustic throne to the right. She examined its arm carefully, her fingers outlining the incredible artisanal work that intrigued her. Where did she see these designs before?
A cold gust hit her hard and, the moment after, fancy ivory shoes warmed her naked feet. An imperial ivory gold taffeta puffy ballroom gown replaced her simple dress from earlier. Her mother’s necklace remained embellishing her chest, the yellow gem now a vivid emerald green. Her copper locks were tied in an exquisite braid, with tiny white wild flowers adorning it. A round hairpiece made of the same white wild flowers and dry twigs was gracefully placed on the top of her head. She turned the pendant over and read the inscription:
From V.
To my Celtic Queen
Her heart filled with love. Mia frowned, at the abrupt realization that this seemed somehow very familiar but somewhat misplaced.
A heavy weight at her right made her look down. Her fingers were intertwined to the King’s but instead of his pleasant warm flesh, these were hard as bones. A chilled shiver ran up her spine and panic took over her when she perceived she was bounded to a skeleton that turned his head left and right, non-stop. Mia saw he was wearing a silver crown with a single amber-greenish eye at the centre, an eye that she knew pretty much her entire existence. Eric’s single eyeball moved fast, round and round, screening the surroundings. It quickly checked her up and down then went back to the surroundings and was now spinning uncontrollably like a broken device. Mia tried to release her hand but Eric’s remains held her tight to the chair. Branches started growing from the seat and were curling around her legs, her waist, her chest. The more she moved, the more trapped she was. A branch covered her eyes dooming her to total darkness and she screamed in terror, breaking free from it by waking up with a jump. She was safe and sound on her bed at the Challenger’s cottage. What a terrible dream.
Her heart was pounding and she was sweating as if she just finished first place in a running marathon. It was sunny bright outside and she had forgotten to turn the aircon on last night. Her phone was dead but the little black clock on her nightstand was marking ten past two in the afternoon. Shit.
Rubbing her forehead, she asked herself for the millionth time what was going on. Evoking memories from her dreams, she turned her pendant over and sighed. There was nothing there. She headed to the washroom to wash her face when Eric intercepted her on the hall, startling her.
“Did you sleep well?” he was wearing his usual shorts-on, shirt-off look.
“Yes” she replied. What she truly meant was no, I just saw you dead again, but there was no point engaging in this conversation.
“This looks really pretty on you”, Eric said, snatching at her pendant. He raised an eyebrow. “What a curious inscription you have there. I didn't notice that last night.”
Mia rushed into the washroom, locked herself in there and gazed aghast to the object reflected in the mirror. How was that even possible? Last night and even five minutes ago, there was no engraving there. She was positive of that. Now the words “From V., To my Celtic Queen” read visible and clear at the back of her pendant, as if they've just been carved. She suspected she needed glasses for a while now, but could it be she was getting crazy?
This whole thing was starting to annoy her. She needed some answers. And she was going after them right now.