“It’s not my fault,” she complained as she sat back. How could he know? Julia’s cheeks reddened again. “You’re a Dreamer,” Cordyr repeated and shook his head several times. “You’re a Dreamer.” “Yes, I have dreams.” She was becoming angry. “Everyone has dreams.” “No. You’re a Dreamer,” he laughed. “You…You.” He pressed his lips together tightly as if frustrated. Cordyr finally found the right words, “You’re a Dreamer. You can Scry.” Scry. To use divination to discover hidden knowledge, places, or future events. […]
His blond hair was draped over half his face. Fresh blood soaked the left side of his head. Handsome, came to her mind. She quickly became alarmed as she realized another part of her dream lay before her. How can he be here? She moved closer and she thought he was only two or three years older than her, maybe twenty-one. He moaned again when she moved his head to locate the source of the
Light filtered through Julia’s closed eyelids. She threw a hand up to block the sunlight pouring into her room through the broken slats in the blinds. Her heart beat rapidly and she took several deep breaths to calm herself. The Dream. Julia sighed and shifted her weight to a shadowed spot on her bed. She lay there for a few moments, then exhaled in what sounded almost like a moan. Another day on the farm.
Beams of moonlight shown through the stained lace curtains and broken shutters. It lit Julia’s face as she lay awake in bed. The taste of the overcooked chicken from supper still stuck in her throat. Is everything in Texas bone-dry? Like most nights, she comforted herself with thoughts of her parents. Not that she really remembered them, just images of a life that flashed into her mind. A time before she came to live with
The silver dragon was barely visible in the overcast, predawn sky. She had seen this particular beast before. Her view shifted from the ground to the air and she looked down on the dragon and its rider, a man cloaked in armor to match the dragon’s scales. Julia had only watched the silver-armored man from a distance, but for some reason was drawn to him. Previously she’d only seen him in full helm. Now, with his helmet removed, long golden
Originally Posted in December 2011. Little did I know that when I wrote this Post that the situation would continue throughout my writing life, even now after all these years. What a battle I have had this last week. My Muse and Internal Editor (IE) have been battling it out all week. I have been working on Lesson 2 in my class this last week (more information to come on this in the next Post)