“All our gods were once mortal. They may have ascended to immortality, but they still hold to traces of what they once were. They remember their struggles, their passions and their regrets.”

Chapter 42

Wil was dreaming.

He knew that he was asleep and the world around him was a dream, but he had no control over his actions. He was a passenger in his dreamworld, it took him where it wanted.

He stood in a vast, snowy plain. The flat ground stretched impossibly far into the horizon, and he could see into the distance with perfect clarity. No wind blew in his dream and the sky was a beautiful blue. Wispy clouds gently drifted overhead.

In the sky above, Wil saw an impossibility. Two suns hung together in the heavens, existing together in a way that could not happen in the waking world. The yellow and blue light shone with a gentle warmness on his lifted face, and despite the snow, Wil felt warm and comfortable.

Looking forward, Wil could see that the field of snow lay unbroken in all directions, except for a single set of footprints, barely indenting the downy layer. The dream urged him to follow the tracks, and so he did.

As he walked forward, the snow became deeper. It started as a light dusting that barely covered the flat ground, until it was up to his waist. He struggled against the thick snow cover, determined to follow the footsteps that somehow still only left a faint impression on the snow, despite the depth that Wil was forced to make his way through.

Wil continued, until the snow covered everything. His vision was completely white from the snow around him. Suddenly, between one moment and the next, Wil was back standing on top of the snowy field where he had started.

He didn’t question it, knowing it was the way of dreams. He looked around, the snow unbroken again in every direction.

Ahead, he could see a woman standing in the snow, her back turned to him. She was wearing a light summer’s dress, as if she were waiting in a field of flowers in springtime. Her long blond hair blew from a wind that did not exist to Wil. Her petite frame swayed gently from side to side.

Wil could hear a faint humming coming from the woman as he slowly walked towards her. The familiar song soothed his mind and put him at ease. He walked up beside the woman, who turned her head towards him slightly.

Her beautiful face lit up with a smile as she noticed him. Her blue eyes, the exact same shade of color as his own, locked onto his.

“Don’t you think it’s beautiful here, Wil?” She said, gesturing around her.

He didn’t think it was strange, being here, in this place, conversing with a dead woman. To him, this was all a dream, of course it was natural for his mother would be here.

“It is.” He said simply, nodding at his mother’s words. “Why are we here, mother?”

“Do you remember when it snowed in Brookmoor, when you were a little boy? You were so amazed at the falling snowflakes. You had never seen anything like it before! You asked me ‘Mommy, can you make it snow every day?’ You thought it was so pretty!” his mother said, smiling at Wil as she ignored his question.

“It was.” It was one of Wil’s few fond memories of his childhood. Spending time with his Mother, before she died.

“Do you remember what I said to you, when you asked me that, Wil?” She asked, turning fully towards him expectantly.

Wil furrowed his brows as he tried to remember her response, it had been so long ago, and the dream made his memories vague and hazy. “You said ‘If it snows every day, then the flowers won’t grow.’”

She nodded. “Everything has its time, The seasons change and summer turns to fall, and fall turns to winter. We’re born, we live and then we pass on.” She paused, turning to stare into the distance.

“Everything has its time, but there’s something unnatural happening, Wil.”

She turned back to look at him again. “The flowers won’t bloom in the North if winter never ends. You need to fix it Wil.”

Her eyes, shining blue in the sunlight, became bigger in Wil’s vision. It was as if the entire world only existed in those blue orbs. His focus was drawn to his mother’s eyes, the world around them reduced to those blue orbs.

“You need to wake up!” The words echoed in Wil’s ears.

“You need to wake up!” The words rattled around in his skull.

“You need to wake up!” The words roared and nothing existed except the voice screaming in his mind.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

He opened his eyes to see an unfamiliar ceiling.

In the dim light from a small crack in the window curtain, Wil could make out that he was in a small room. He was lying in a bed wrapped in warm, thick sheets and blankets.

The warmth of the bed made him want to drift back into sleep, but he forced himself awake. He slowly pulled the sheets down and rose from the bed. His entire body had a dull aching pain, and he could see large bruises on his chest and arms. They contrasted vividly against his pale skin.

He walked slowly towards a pile of clothing that rested on the table nearby, along with his armor, sword and the satchel containing his spell book.

Dressing slowly, he pulled the leather armor over his clothing and belted his sword around his hip. Noticing dirt and dust still present on the armor, he attempted to use a cleaning spell. The moment he tried to touch his Mana, sharp pain flared from his chest, traveling along his arms and into his hands.

Wincing at the pain, Wil stopped channeling his Mana. He walked unsteadily over to the washbasin, looking at himself in the mirror as he washed his face. His blue eyes were bloodshot, and he had burst a blood vessel in his right eye.

Finishing, he walked towards the door, but before he could turn the handle, a blond headed figure burst through the doorway and slammed into him, wrapping her arms around him.

“Wil! Thank the gods that you’re alright!” Annabelle Quentin said. Her voice was slightly muffled from how she had her head buried in his chest.

Awkwardly patting her on the back, Wil looked towards the other two figures who had entered behind her.

Bell looked worse for wear, even more disheveled than normal. He seemed as if he hadn’t slept in a few days. Mara looked well rested but had a concerned look on her face.

Wil nodded in greeting to the pair, happy that they both seemed to be in a far better condition them he was.

“Good morning to you all!” Wil said, attempting to sound chipper, but his voice sounded hoarse and cracked from lack of use. “The both of you are looking well.”

“Evening, Lad. You slept the day away.” Bell said, closing the door and sitting down on the only chair available in the room.

“You had us worried, you idiot.” Quentin said, stepping back and looking at him in the face.

“We’re glad you’re ok, Wil.” Mara said, gripping his arm in a friendly manner.

“I owe you one, for snapping me out of it back on the bridge.” He told Mara.

“I’m sure you’ll pay me back sometime soon.” She responded.

“And I’m fine, Miss Merchant, right as rain.” He grinned, which turned into a grimace as she lightly poked him in his chest. Even through his armor, the light touch hurt.

“Right, I’m sure you’re fine. We’ll take you to the priestess, she wouldn’t heal you until you woke up.”

Wil nodded, knowing that using his Mana in the way he did could result in a lot of internal damage. It was best to let the body heal naturally. The Core needed to settle and refill from being forcibly drained.

The bruising and burns were all side effects, they called it ‘Mana Burn’ in the academy.

“Where are we, and what happened to the Drake?” Wil asked, sitting back on the bed and looking to Bell.

“Grand Falls, arrived late in the evening. As for the Drake, when you did your little hero act, Mara pulled you away from the beast while we shot it full of bolts. Looked like you knocked the fight out of it, fled quickly after that.” Bell said as he leaned back in his chair.

“The mother and daughter, the ones behind me, are they ok?”

Quentin nodded. “They’re fine, doing better than you, actually.”

Wil let out a breath of relief. “That’s good.”

“Come on, we’ll get you looked at by the priestess. Then we can get something to eat.” Quentin said, gripping Wil by the arm to help him up.

Wincing at the slight pressure her grip gave him, he staggered to his feet and followed them out the doorway. His stomach was growling the whole way out of the room.