Life by Moonlight: Part 3

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“Honestly Will, you waste all of you time doing silly and pointless things, its time for you to do something constructive. Go and help your father on the farm, he needs you.” This was more an order than a suggestion, but he did it anyway, exiting the room and muttering to himself as he did so.

...

Will stuck his head out from around the corner to see if the coast was clear and proceeded on. He decided to use all of the back passages, that he was sure had been long forgotten, to be sure that no one would see him. He knew that he could not go through the front gate, because the kitchen was directly in front of it, making him unavoidable to his mother inside. Instead he went around the house and directly to the green pastures, of the beyond. He was only 5 metres from the fence, and his freedom, when he heard his name from behind him. He slowly turned around desperately trying to hide his guilty face. A man stood directly behind him, with his arms folded and his long brown hair covered in mud. The matching green doublet and hose were splattered with mud, up to the shoulders and what remained of the colour was slowly fading with age. His deep chestnut eyes were intense, but forgiving and contained a secret strength, that few have witnessed.

“Son. Thanks for helping me out here. I know it a chore but its relaxing and allows us to bond.”

“Oh. Sure dad” he replied. He had to think fast to get out of this one. “I was just going to ... milk the cows for you.” And at that he changed direction. As soon as he reached the confinement of the barn, he dashed past the pre-prepared pale of milk, and saddled up his horse, in the adjoining stable. Minutes later, he was outside and bolted through the field beyond, jumping the fence, clearing it and a couple of metres. He did not know if anyone saw him, he didn’t care, all he knew was that he was free.

He reached the safety of the forest lining, minutes later. He hadn’t stopped since the stable and realised that he had no where to go. But never the less, he continued and wondered on. The green canopy above him consumed the sky, allowing only a sliver to fall through and scatter on the mossy sewn floor. It was a relaxing and therapeutic place, where the sweet sounds of tropical birds hung in the air while they remained hidden. He was at peace wondering between the earthly giants.

After what seemed like hours of aimless wondering, he emerged in a clearing that opened onto a cliff. A crystal stream emerged from the woodlands and surged over the edge. The rushing waters, quiet yet distinct, rushed forward forming a glass pane that could not be broken. He dismounted and walked over to the stream, cupping some water into his hands to drink. Deciding to sit down and relax, he walked over to the cliff edge and seated himself. He watched the valley bellow as the birds soared into the sky. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a shadowed figure seat itself next to him.

“You’ve been having the dreams again, haven’t you?” The question hung in the air for a moment before the silence was broken.

“It was different this time. I was there. I could smell the stale stench of death, in the air, and hear the wounded dying. I could feel the tips of the swords ripping into the flesh and seeking out the life within. I was there-” He cut off, the emotions and memories swelling within.

“And then what?”

“I awoke-” His brow was deep in concentration and his eyes unfocused. “Covered in blood. I carried on, from where the nightmare ended. I was cut from the shoulder to the chest, but was not wounded. My shirt glistened red and I was covered in sweat. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt”

“But why are they back?”

“I don’t think they are. They are something new, something different, but I don’t know what.”

“But they are only dreams.” She reassured him

“Are they?” he left the question hanging there, unknowing.

To Be Continued ...