Zyla awoke in a cold sweat, blankets twisted in an ugly heap around her ankles. Dreams of the Winterlands lingered in her mind like the scent of chocolate cookies in her grandmother’s kitchen. She took a deep breath and willed herself to push the painful memories to the back of her mind.
Peaceful sleep had been out of reach for a year, with the places Zyla visited in her mind each night showing no signs of weakening. Instead, they burned with the same intensity each time they attacked.
Slipping out of bed and pulling on an old bathrobe, Zyla headed to the window. She looked out at the grass and forests, extending beyond the reach of her vision. This lush scenery couldn’t be more unlike the vast plains of snow she grew up on. It was a solid reminder that she was safe now. Only Mara and Ren, the sweet couple that had found her on the shore of the woods so long ago, knew of her existence. They’d stumbled upon her quite by accident, upon their return from an afternoon picnic. In the light of the setting sun they found her, clothing cold and wet, ashes streaking her hair. The pair of them had taken her into their home and nursed her back to health.
Grateful though she was, Zyla could not bring herself to tell her newfound guardians who she was- what she was. They might have guessed she was a Winterlander- what other race had her people’s icy eyes, their pale, thin grace? If they had figured that much out, they had not mentioned it. But they couldn’t discover she was a dreamwalker, for if they did she was sure she would no longer be welcome. They didn’t seem like Firebearers , but one could never be too sure.
Firebearers. They’d been so afraid of dreamwalkers… They allowed their fear to lead them until it grew so great they massacred the people they thought would hurt them. If they’d taken the time to learn, they would have seen through their fear, would have noticed that dreamwalking wasn’t so evil after all. But they hadn’t.
As far as Zyla knew, she was the only one left after that terrible day.
The girl filled her lungs with cold night air seeping in through the open window. She raised her head and began to sing. From her pink lips dripped a voice filled with sorrow, displaying the lyrics of a lullaby she’d learned as a child. It was a song filled with hurt.
It was a song of pain.
Somehow, it was a song of hope.
As Zyla freed her emotions, she closed her eyes. She didn’t see her words dance out of the window and into the forest below. She couldn’t have known of the man walking not half a mile away.
She didn’t know that she had just alerted another person to her presence in the world.
Not just any person, either.
A Firebearer had heard her song.