Chapter 1 – Rebeca
As I pressed the button on the soda machine, I had the unshakable certainty that my arm wasn’t mine. I didn’t recognize the deep brown skin, the shape of the bones, the freckles, not even the little bracelet made of colorful seeds. I stared at my fingers, pinched the flesh of my knuckles, and challenged the obvious truth that the limb was part of me.
I thought I could peel the skin off like a glove.
The soda can fell with a sharp clatter. A jab of migraine hit me, a high-pitched buzzing ringing in my ears. Reflexively, I pressed the cold can to my temple. The chill distracted me. I loved the sensation of it spreading beneath my skin, and it also helped with the strangeness. My body felt a little more like mine when it burned cold.
When I got back to the car, Mom was paying for the gas, being overly curt with the attendant. I handed her the lemon soda can, which she ignored, leaving me there with my arm outstretched, waiting in servitude until she was done with the card machine.
Mom’s expression was tense and serious, which always scared me, often forgetting to relax before speaking to someone else. She was the kind of woman who bore the weight of the world on her shoulders alone, and that had turned her into a mix of bulldozer and rocket—unstoppable, furious, determined, always pushing forward. Overlooking that there were people in the way who didn’t deserve her anger.
“Annalise, you left the window open. There’s no point in leaving the air conditioning on if you do that.”
I got in, buckled up, and let her talk while I settled into my seat. The sweet tang of the cold soda was another small relief.
Soon, Mom was pulling out of the gas station lot, speeding down the highway surrounded by golden savanna stretching endlessly on both sides of the asphalt. I felt dizzy from the dissociation, the shortness of breath, the fear that I was forgetting something. Everything felt so strange, even though it was all the same as always. Mom, the car, my ancient MP3 player playing my favorite songs. And along with the discomfort, came the headache. I had already accepted that it would be my constant companion on this trip. Something about the road, the heat, the motion sickness kept my body from relaxing. Everything hurt.
We were moving homes, cities, jobs. Every inch of the back seat was crammed. All our most important belongings were there. Our clothes, documents, books and computers, waiting to arrive safely somewhere they could be seen and used again. The rest of our lives were in a moving truck somewhere. We’re headed to a small two-bedroom apartment where everything would have to fit.
Mom had landed a teaching position at a private university. Supposedly a dream job, the kind worth packing up everything you own and driving for hours to the other side of the state. Still, Mom seemed stressed. She gripped the steering wheel with both hands, eyes locked on the road. The only time she moved was to crack her neck or sip the soda.
I admired her strength, but there was something beyond that. Mom scared me. If there wasn’t a very clear focus, her strength looked for anything to assert itself against. It was better to stay out of her way when that happened, but we were in a car, closed in together until the next stop, two or three hours away. I wanted to be invisible, but she kept drawing my attention in diffuse ways, asking if I’d packed something, complaining when I couldn’t hear because of the music, asking me to check the map on her phone then complaining I wasn’t doing it fast enough.
Mom wanted the move to happen magically without needing her involvement. She expected everyone else to be the most efficient versions of themselves, and to leave her no extra work beyond what she had already imagined she’d have. Since none of that happened, she was ready to unleash her vengeful fury in revenge.
And I knew that it hadn’t always been like this way, but it was like that now, and I had to endure it until I could hide in the solitude of my room.
Eventually, everything calmed down again. Her fury sank back beneath her skin, contained.
I finished the soda and put on my headphones. The road was dull and hypnotic. I tilted the backrest further and sank into sleep.
***
Despite the depth of the night’s darkness, the sky was clear and lit by the moon. The city around me was made of stone that shimmered blue under the faint light. I walked through the shadows, along narrow streets and stairways, moving up towards the towers.
When I turned a corner, I found an open gate leading to the wall that divided the lower city from the upper one. Someone had forgotten to close it. I climbed the dark stairs until I reached the guardrail at the top.
From my vantage point on the high ground, the entire valley stretched before me towards the dark mountains in the distance. The linen fields, the sheep pastures, and all the houses on that side of the city that were nestled between the walls. Despite the late hour, small flames still flickered here and there, mirroring the countless stars in the sky: tiny points of light against the vast, bluish expanse.
The air was dry and cold. It tasted like sand and salt.
Someone approached. At first, he looked like the sky itself, dark blue filled with stars, a man-shaped window leading to another horizon, another night. But with each step closer, he took on a more defined form. A man my height, with dark skin like mine, large dark eyes and a gentle smile. His face was clean, and he was wrapped in light fabrics adorned with patterns and embroidered hems. Medallions held the layers together.
“What place is this, where you come to find shelter in your hour of rest, my lady?” he asked with a smile.
I knew the answer, even if I couldn’t name the town.
“This is the capital of the empire, which stretches from here to the farthest sea, beyond the mountains,” I replied with certainty. “I’ve lived in many places, but this is my favorite city in the world.”
He stood beside me. I pointed to the lower city, naming the temples, the plazas, the inns, the bakeries, the weaving houses. I showed him the roads, and said where they lead to. To the other cities, to the nearest sea.
The handsome man smiled and nodded.
“It’s a shame this city doesn’t exist anymore. I would’ve liked to see it with you.”
My heart ached. The cold night air was suddenly sliced by intense heat. Around me, the city shifted from calm to chaos. Screams echoed. The sky burned red behind pillars of smoke. Flames danced, devouring, destroying. The city had burned down long ago, I just didn’t fully remember how.
He touched my shoulder, and only then did I realize I started to cry.
“We have to get out of here,” I murmured, voice broken by sobs.
A shout rang out. I turned and saw another man, this one red in the glow of the fire. I recognized the metal of his armor, its designs. They were from the enemies of the north, beyond the narrow sea. I grabbed my companion’s sleeve and pulled. He stayed put, observing the chaos like someone watching an interesting demonstration and nothing more. His body weighed a ton, and though I begged him to come, pleaded, he stayed put. Then there was no more time.
The enemy charged, yelling and running, raising his spear high with both hands. The bronze tip struck my friend’s chest, piercing all the way through. His blood splattered on my clothes. The attacker tried to pull the weapon back, but it jammed between the ribs, stuck no matter how he tugged.
That’s when I attacked him. I grabbed the sword at his belt and, taking advantage of his confusion, drove it into his belly. I knew where to strike and how to kill. I plunged it below the edge of his armor, at the liver, and pushed until he choked on his own blood.
He leaned on the guardrail, smearing dark syrupy blood across the stones as his fingers dragged along them.
I turned back to my friend, and he was still standing. I held him, wrapping my arms around his waist, trying to keep alive a body that… Didn’t seem to care that it was hurt at all? His eyes barely focused on me, and the color was draining from his face, but he stood bravely as red painted his clothes.
“Servant...” His lips moved, barely breathing. “Change this dream.”
In one moment, I was clutching him, overwhelmed by the heat and chaos, senses full of blood and sweat. The next, he was pulling me close. There was something soft behind his back, and I collapsed into the warmth of his clothes and body.
There were no fires, no death. We were inside a chilled room, under the light of the chandeliers, surrounded by pillows and translucent curtains that blurred the edges of the space.
I felt my face flush. The man laughed, brushing curls away from my forehead.
“I’m honored you’re already worried about me, princess.” He pressed two fingers beneath my chin, lifting my gaze to meet his. “But I promise, nothing can hurt me here. This is your realm, after all. This is your dream, and dreams obey their maker.”
“I didn’t make this,” I whispered. “I wouldn’t have made any of this.”
His hand dropped, resting lightly over the bloodstain still blooming across his chest. Though now, in the soft light, it looked more like spilled ink than anything living. “Not on purpose. But the pieces were always there, weren’t they?”
I couldn’t answer. My knees folded, and I sat down on the carpet, dazed, hollow. “The city burning was a memory… But even though I feel like it should be easy to remember, I can’t see it in my mind.”
The curtains swayed gently with a wind I couldn’t feel.
“There’s no problem in forgetting. What is gone can’t hurt you anymore. Not even in your dreams.”
I took a deep breath.
“That’s not true. The emptiness it leaves behind will forever haunt me.”
The man sat beside me. I wanted to run, but he raised his hand before I could move. The gesture invited me closer. All the loneliness inside me suddenly ached, sharp and unbearable. I wanted to accept the invitation, to reach for him, but I stayed still.
Someone moved behind the curtains, walking quietly.
“Sir, she’ll wake up soon,” his gentle voice whispered, nearly inaudible.
My friend seemed annoyed. He put his finger to his lips, quieting me.
“You must remember one thing. I’m as close as I can be, but I’m still too far to do much. I’m coming soon. Until then, watch out for our enemies. Don’t let them come close.”
The smell of his blood still clung to me just as I woke. I sat up with a start, the seatbelt pressing into my chest. The car was still moving. Mom was still driving. The sky outside had turned a bright, bloody purple.
