Night Terrors

Fire.

You never realise just how painfully hot it is until it touches you.

Most understand, logically, that it is hot and it will burn and hurt you. But it is only when you are burned that you fully, truly understand.

Fire is alive. And it is always hungry.

Fire ate my whole village.
But I cannot blame fire for it.
That would be like blaming a pet for doing as its master bids.
No, the one I hate… I hate him more than fire hungers.
They called him King.
I called him King only to his face, as I was called his pet.
He hurt me and I had to let him. It was me or… others.
Friends, family… Even if I was compliant that still didn’t save everyone.
I knew, logically, that I couldn’t save everyone. But... Where’s logic when your friends are dead?

I killed him.
He who would call himself King.
I killed him with pure luck.

In my dreams, I do not kill him.
He twists out of the way and I watch as everyone I love is tortured or killed outright. Or both. And there was a sickening relief when he killed them right away. Oh good, they won’t suffer as much.
Hearth understands when I tell her, as fucked up as that is… it makes sense. A gross, pit of your stomach kind of sense. She is always there for me when I wake. Every time. And every time I feel like I should soldier on alone, she scolds me.

Rightfully so, I suppose.

Another dream. Had this happened? Was this the same or worse? Hearth was on her knees before the King, fire all around us. The fire was so sinfully hot it hurt to face it, and so loud it was almost surprising that I could hear Hearth’s laboured breathing. I saw her staring at me, pleading for me to do something. Anything. But… I couldn’t stop him, even if there was a sword nearby. The dying hope in her eyes was replaced by a sort of hollow acceptance at what was to come next.
I cannot help her, though I still look around our small circle of fire for something, anything, to use. He raised his hands, prepping a spell which I had no way to counteract. Then, I see it. In the fire that encircles us, is the sword. I have no choice, I plunge my hands into the fire, screaming through the pain as my hands sizzle against the hilt. It is so hot that I feel the fur and skin beneath singe and cook. I raise it up with my ruined hands and turn to plunge the sword into the King.
It is too late.
The sword slides in - barely wounding him as Hearth falls victim to his magic.
The circle of fire becomes the eye shines of both armies.
All begin shouting at me.
Why couldn’t I kill him? Lock up the pet! Why couldn’t I save Hearth? What use is she, ruined now? Why didn’t I save my loved ones? Why didn’t I serve the King? Why? Why? Why?

It’s all my fault.

I wake with a jolt, tears falling down my face. I find myself sobbing into Hearth’s side as she pulls me close.
“It’s okay, Zo.” The low grumbling voice of Hearth is comforting, “I’m right here.”
The demi-goddess rubs my back slowly with her large paws as I cry. I clutch her side with unburnt hands, another reminder that it was a dream. It takes for longer than I care to admit to come down from the nightmare.
Hearth waits until my breathing evens out.
“Zo, are you okay?”
“Mmn.” I take a deep breath, “I couldn’t save you.”
“Ah.” A light squeeze, “Well you did when it mattered.”
I nod, wide awake now. I feel bad for Hearth, since I saved her we became bonded. Because that’s what happens when you save a demi-goddess… A demi-goddess and… me. How unfair for Hearth.
“Stop it.”
“How do you know what I was thinking?” I frowned, she was getting better at cutting off the spiralling thoughts.
“Because you lose your grace and stiffen up.”
“I- I- I’m not graceful!” I was thankful it was still dark so the Maine Coon would not see my reddening cheeks.
“You are,” a yawn, “without even thinking about it.”

Silence.

“Hearth?”
“Mmn?”
“I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” She grumbled, shifting in the bed, “Least of all your night terrors.”
“I’m sorry I’ve been waking you up.”
“Not you that’s been waking me up, it’s the-” another yawn, “Fuckin’ King that is. Him and his stupid fuckin’ army.”

Hearth blamed the PTSD. Not me.

I knew it, sort of, the way you know how gravity works. Sort of abstract and you don’t think about it. But hearing it out loud helped cement the idea in my mind. Hearth’s paw pad lightly ran across the large scar over my nose. She had said more than once that it was a physical reminder of all the battles I had overcome. How strong I was.
I didn’t feel strong. Not when I had to be held after a nightmare. But Hearth was one of the strongest people I knew, so maybe she saw strength when I didn’t, or couldn’t, see it.

“Zo…” Hearth’s muzzle nosed my hair, “I’m happy we became bonded.”
“I am too.”

There was light coming through the crack in the curtains, and I was slowly able to make out parts of the room that I couldn’t before. The chest of treasure on the one side of the closet, the vase with fresh wildflowers atop the dresser… I turned over to see Hearth’s beautiful blue eyes watching me.

“Sun’s coming up. Should we rise to meet it?”
“Yeah, I’d like that.”