Zaleria, Dreamwalker

I fell asleep again. I've been up for the past 3 days. The first day I was jittery from the obscene amounts of coffee I had drunk. The second I felt like I would fall over if anyone breathed on me. The third was when I started to see stars appear in the day, my hair greasy and unkempt, looking like a bird's nest, being the right color and everything. I'd seen how my eyes looked more red than caramel that they usually were. Everyone was worried for me but I’d appear crazy had I told anyone about the dreams. Normally when I walk in my dreams, people never see me, never interact with me, never notice I’m there watching. The dream I’ve walked since I was little was of an elven prince; he appears to be the same age as me. His pale skin is offset with emerald green eyes. His dirty blond hair is the same as his sister’s.

I’ve grown alongside him. Watched and trained with him, pretending I had a weapon when he trained and followed his steps. Eventually I did get a weapon I could hold in these dreams. My sword’s hilt was white, lined with a bright blue that followed along the blade as well. It must’ve been a sight, if anyone could see me. Me and the prince back to back, his shaggy dirty blond hair and my black hair pulled back. His tunic and leggings a complete complimentary of mine. His mainly blue lined with white, mine mainly white lined with blue. Our swords matched our outfits. We danced as we both fought the enemies, only his hits counted though. Mine phased through but the training guards often appeared stunned for a second, as if they felt the hits. The prince, Elen I had come to know, stood back to back with me as the training guards stopped. This happened every night for the past 11 years.

 3 nights ago, I went back, eager to fight and to be with Elen and my sword again. The elven world was my 2nd home. I started in the arena, already in my training clothes and my sword unsheathed. It was empty, except for Elen in the center. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the person who’s fought back to back with me for the past 11 seasons.” He bowed to me. And I ran.

I ran and hadn’t gone back since. I forced myself awake and refused to face the fact that my presence was no longer unknown. He knew me. He recognized that I walked in his world every night for the past 11 years and it terrified me. Why now? What was so significant that out of the blue he knew who I was? But it was all ruined, because I fell asleep after 3 long days of staying awake. 

Elen was waiting for me when I woke up in the arena. “I didn’t expect you to run, Zaleria.”

“I didn’t expect to get any recognition, Elen” mocking his tone. “Have you always known? Or was this a recent discovery?”

“I knew that I wasn’t fighting alone. I knew that in my dreams I walked along in Midgard, following a queen among mortals named Zal--”

“Flattery gets you nowhere, your majesty.” He raises an eyebrow at the use of his title. 

“I think we’re far past the point of flattery, your highness. There’s something more to this than just you and I, Zaleria. For 11 seasons, we’ve lived our lives and watched over each other. There has to be some meaning to this” he starts walking towards me. I stay standing, refusing to move any further. “When you’re here, you compliment me, fight alongside me, dress in clothes that would be given to my partner. And when I’m in your world, I guard you, walk alongside you, dress in mortal clothes. We are perfect complements to each other and this is no mistake, my dearest.” His eyes soften, not the sharp emerald green I’m used to seeing during training. 

“What changed?” 

“There wasn’t a threat before, now there is.” I take time to really look at Elen, something I hadn’t done since the early days of my walking. His eyes weren’t as bright anymore. The bags under them drew away from their color. He stood with power, however. More powerful than I had ever seen him. Whatever was happening in Elfheim, it was enough to make him grow into his place.

“What can I do for you, Elen?” He looks shocked at the use of his name. Elen smiles at me. 

“My queen,” and it was my turn to look shocked but he continued on. “I can only ask that you stay here with me until the war is over. Once it’s over, I’ll take my loss with you and you will finally be able to live a life without dreams of Elfheim.” I nod, not looking forward to why my dream walking should stop. 

“One last question, why am I your queen? Surely there’s your betrothed waiting to be called as such?” referring to his betrothed from birth, Ciradyl. 

“She does not fight beside me does she?” he asks with a sad smile on his face. “She is mine in name but not in heart, you know that well Zaleria.” I reach out for him, my hand finally making contact with him. It feels like coming home. 

We fall towards each other. Finding comfort in each other’s arms. My lack of sleep, his exhaustion from whatever threat that has been looming over him. We stay there, on the floor of the arena in a weird hug for what feels like forever. I say nothing as I hear sobs. We finally stand up and he looks better. He stands taller than before, the red in his eyes making him even more demanding of respect. 

“Come, let me introduce you formally, Zaleria Dreamwalker. Together, we’ll defeat the Dokkalfar, and I’ll take my throne, while you get to go home and live a normal life.” He sounds upset at the idea. I don’t mention that it upsets me just as much.