Dragons, Dystopians, and Denial

Elias was still feeling sleepy, but it was best that they slept in shifts. He was standing and leaning against the tree trunk, observing the sky and how dawn was just on the horizon. His head ached and he felt miserable, but it was a different type of misery. Not chronic and able to fade away in time.

The air was crisp and birds started to wake up from their morning routine. The wind breezed past them lightly.

He felt alive, more so than he had in the past few years, perhaps because he didn't have the heavy weight of the military behind his back. Still, even with yesterday's horrendous and nightmarish day, Elias still chose to see the best of things. He always had. Maybe that made him naïve, but he didn't care.

It was nice to be have company, too. It was nice to have a friend again. Someone who cared.

Even though Jerica acted tough, he knew it was just an act. He knew she was broken, too.

Right on cue, Jerica suddenly began to babble in her sleep. Elias turned his head towards her, brow raised. Her eyes were still closed, but she looked like she was in distress. She said a lot of no's out loud, but a lot of what she said wasn't able to be understood.

"Just stop," he heard her say softly with a tremble in her voice, and that surely got his attention.

Elias stood up straight.

"...Jerica?" he asked. "Are you awake?"

Her eyes were still closed. It almost looked like she was battling a fever.

"Go away..." she said, voice a little louder. And then suddenly: "Kieran! No! No, no, no, no!"

Elias then rushed over to her side. She was having a bad nightmare. Of course she would. She was still young. These things would traumatize her. It certainly traumatized him when he was her age, and he knew how horrifying and realistic the nightmares could get.

"NO!" she screamed, even through sleep.

"Jerica," he said, more urgent this time as he was by her side. He shook her shoulder.

"Hey. Wake up. It's just a nightmare. It's okay."

Jerica gasped, terrified as something in real life had hold of her shoulder. She threw her hand out, palm striking the offender squarely on the chest, just below the collarbone. She twisted and came up with her dagger, turning towards the man before --

She gasped again, seeing that it was just Elias in front of her.

Her eyes flicked around the opening and she saw that everything was okay. Just Elias and her and the horses. Her shoulders heaved, breaths jagged and coming in gasps. She reached up and touched her face and realized it was covered in... tears?

She was still holding the dagger threateningly.

She dropped the dagger on top of her blankets and staggered to her feet, stumbling away from him. She scrubbed her face, desperately trying to catch her breath. The tail ends of the dream were still loud on her mind. And she didnt know how she was going to explain this one away.

Elias thought he was helping her out, but then she punched him on the chest. He winced in pain as he stumbled back, hand over his chest. That was surely going to bruise. She was lucky that bruises rarely lasted longer than a day for him. Still, that didn't mean he wanted to be her punching bag.

He stared as she pointed a dagger at him but then seemed to wake up, her face covered in tears. But then she dropped the dagger and walked away.

"...Ouch," he said towards her. Ouch because she hit him, and ouch because she ignored him. He sighed, getting up on his feet and following her.

"It's a nightmare," he explained as if it wasn't obvious. "We all have them. There's no need to feel ashamed."

"I..." A shudder cut her off.

She wrapped around herself tightly, trying to still the way her entire body was trembling. She hated the fact that they'd only made it two nights before she had a nightmare. It was hardly surprising -- she always had them after she had to do something horrible -- but it was humiliating. Elias had already seen her cry more times than almost anyone else in this entire realm ever would.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to let it out slowly so that she would calm down.

"Didn't mean to hit you." She sniffed, wishing she could get herself under control. "Sorry."

"That's okay," Elias said softly, restraining himself to not reach out to her again. He would rather not get hit again, and the images were likely still surfacing through her head.

He offered her a small smile even though she was turned away. "It's not so bad hitting me since I heal pretty quickly."

It was an attempt to lighten the mood, but not a good one. He cringed, hoping she wouldn't take this as a sign to actually be okay with beating him up.

He sat down in front of the river, noting how the first signs of dawn was creeping up on them.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently, looking out into the water.

Jerica sank to her knees next to the stream and scrubbed her face with the frigid water, trying to rid herself of the tears and the way her cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"What's there to talk about?" she asked gruffly, sitting back on her heels but still not turning back to him. "You were there the first time that scene played out. I just got to watch it a second time."

It wasn't properly true, but close enough. The main difference was Kieran showing up. Because of course, her brain felt the need to dig the knife that much deeper.

Elias paused for a bit, not wanting to say anything brash or impulsive. He wanted to make sure Jerica heard sincere advice.

"I've found that nightmares come up because of repressed emotions, like denial of the feelings of events," he said. "Maybe it would help to talk about that, if you're comfortable."

He took a silent sigh, bracing for her to be stubborn and lash out.

"I'm just trying to help," he added softly.

"You sound like Aerik." She sighed heavily, sitting the rest of the way back onto her butt instead of on her feet. She angled towards him ever so slightly so that she could see him in her peripheral vision, but still didn't quite turn towards him. "What do you think there is to talk about?"

"Well, Aerik is a good man, so I'll take that as a compliment," Elias said with a slight smile, hoping to catch her eyes, but failing. He didn't know Aerik that well, but she knew that she respected him.

The smile faded and he looked out into the rippling water again.

"I'm not sure," he admitted. He didn't like to guess at these things. It wasn't like he could read her mind.

But he did have a reasonable general guess.

"I think the burden of being an assassin is weighing on you more than you realize."

She laughed bitterly. Realizing and admitting were two very different things. “What’s it matter? Not like anything is gonna change whether I whine or not.”

"Not whine," he corrected. "Talk. And not deflect." He paused. "Like you're doing now."

He knew he wasn't any better, really. But he wasn't the one with the nightmares.

“Just like Aerik.” She smirked grimly, appreciating the gesture even though she’d never admit it. “But I’m still not sure what you’re wanting me to talk about— my feelings?” She scoffed. “Cause I’ve been reliably informed I don’t have any.”

"Clearly that's not true," Elias said without hesitation. "An emotionless husk wouldn't hug or cry."

Jerica choked on a laugh. “The hug was for you.”

At least, that’s how it started. She DID end up enjoying it by the end. Not that she’d admit that.

“I just... hate it,” she whispered. “My uncle forced me to kill people. People force me to kill them. I... didn’t want yesterday. Food and rum. That’s all I wanted. Not...”

A massacre.