Abigail Morris, Sclabhai (Unseelie slave) to the Countess Sianna. Her thoughts drifted to her beloved mistress with complete adoration. Clutching her ceremonial dagger, her Athame, Abigail felt proud that her mistress would give such an important role in defeating her enemies. So simple, a twist of a knife and she would be free to be with her mistress forever.
Watching the figure in white walk out of the forest, she readied herself. The Sclabhai ignored the others, what they were saying didn’t matter. What happened to them was unimportant. Only her mistress’ commands made her happy. Running forward, her beloved’s enemy seemed ignorant of the fate that awaited her. As the Athame slipped quickly into the ribs of the one called Morgan, all was right in the world.
“Morgan!” The novice witch yelled; her eyes looking around in the darkness. Trembling, Abigail tried to catch her breath.
A soft sigh in the darkness confirmed she wasn’t alone. “Another bad dream Abby? That makes it the third time this week.”
Abigail nodded trying not to burst into tears. The blood seemed so real. Morgan’s blood and there was nothing she could do to stop it. After being rescued, her dreams had been horrifying but they appeared to have decreased in number. Support from her friends and family and especially her therapist Reynard, helped. What the young girl didn’t understand was why the dreams would return now and in such vivid detail.
“We should tell her Highness.” Another voice in the darkness said.
“I agree.” A third voice chimed in.
“No please don’t, she has enough to worry about.” Looking around she found her three constant companions. Three Pixies; Acacia, Teasel and Xeranthemum (Xera) hovered near her, their faces filled with concern. “It was just a dream.” Abigail rubbed her eyes and looked at the small clock by her bed. Seems she had been in bed less than two hours before waking up.
“Let’s go wake up that Reynard fellow, for a male he seems surprisingly competent.” Teasel flew up and landed on Abby’s shoulder.
“Well he is a Warden.” Acacia giggled. “It’s not like Abby can just speak to anyone.”
Teasel smiled dreamily. “Maybe Sandra will make milk and cookies again.”
“You two be quiet.” Xera flew closer and kissed the young witch on the forehead. “Go to back to sleep child, we will talk about it in the morning.” Abigail suddenly felt sleepy and slid back under her covers. Moments later she was asleep.
“Xera” Acacia put her tiny hands on her hips. “Why did you put Abby to sleep?”
Xera ignored the other Pixie, throwing up some tiny lights, which swirled around the sleeping witch before flying out the window. “Acacia, have I told you that you talk too much?”
Teasel flew over next to Acacia. “Quiet girl.” The pair watched the orange haired Pixie in silence until she suddenly smiled.
“So you were right.” Acacia started to jump up and down. “Something is out there.”
Xera nodded. “And it appears our friend from the Unseelie Court is careless; it never released the thread when Abigail woke up.”
Teasel didn’t argue, but she was sure it was because the dark Fae underestimated Xera the clans Keeper of Names. The orange haired Pixie might look like a thirteen-year-old girl but she had watched the first northern men of iron settle around the Sacred Grove.
“Come let’s go surprise our cousin.”
The shadow creature hid itself within the eaves of the house, near its intended victim. It could feel the damage already inflicted by its nightmares. The witch had so far been a delicious meal and soon she would be susceptible to other more direct attacks. The Countess would get her slave back and when that happened, the creature would be generously rewarded.
“So what do we have here?” A girlish voice interrupted the beast’s visions of glory. How did they get so close without it noticing?
The dream eater moved up and out of the eaves, taking a good look at its new prey. “Delicious little girls…foolish little girls…to leave the witch all alone…poor defenders indeed. You three will be a snack, barely a nibble.”
The tallest of the three with blazing orange hair drew a nasty looking sword. “What makes you think there are only three of us?”
The shadow looked around in panic, as dozens of pixies appeared all brandishing deadly blades.
Abigail Morris opened her eyes as the morning sun warmed up her room. Rising from bed she smiled, the dreams from earlier in the night forgotten. For the first time in days she had slept quietly though the night.
“Pleasant dreams, child.” Xera hovered near by smiling down from above.
“Good morning Xera, yes they were.”
The orange hair pixie landed on her shoulder and whispered. “May they ever be so.”
Authors Notes: A special thanks to djkauf for a little elvish editing. Thanks to all for reading! - Elsbeth
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