Vital Page 2

  “That may be why you don’t seem as overwhelmed by everything,” Rose replied.

  I rolled my eyes, knowing he was just as overwhelmed as I was. The only difference between us was that I talked about how I felt and what I was afraid of, but he didn’t. He buried it, not to be mean or distant, but because he knew it would only make what I thought, feared, and felt even more unbearable.

  Rose felt my aggravated emotion.“We’re not trying to overpower you. This could be dangerous. The lack of REM sleep could cause you to lose your appetite, become easily irritated, see hallucinations – even affect your long term memory, cause you have a lack in judgment. It is a very serious concern to have, and it’s important that your father brought it to your attention. You cannot afford to have anything impair you with everything that lies in your path. It’s vital that you listen to his advice.”

  Absent-minded, I slowly moved my head from side to side, not feeling any less outnumbered. “Are you talking about the images from my medallion?” I questioned, reaching for my necklace. “How can we all have the same hallucinations?”

  “No,” my father assured me as his shoulders tensed. Clearly, he was regretting bringing the notion up. “It could cause them. I’m just asking that you take the time to allow your mind to process everything it’s seen. I may be wrong; I admit that. I just want to keep you as strong as possible.” He looked down, then back up at me. “You know your dreams have a way of helping you sort through what is and what will be...some even believe that that’s the one place our spirit guides can speak clearly to us.”

  “Spirit guides?” I mocked.

  “Higher self, whatever you want to call it. It’s just a theory in some dimensions, but as a doctor, I can tell you that sleep and dreams heal. Dreams are a place where we see a reflection of what was and find a path to what will be. Everyone’s mind and body are powerful, and dreams are a power that very few embrace; those that do heal faster and find the answers they’re seeking.”

  My finger began to trace an invisible snake across the table. When I was a kid, I remembered asking my dad why there was a snake through the medical symbol that was on every hospital, why that image represented his profession. I remembered the Greek mythology he spoke of, the story of Asclepius, the son of Apollo...his staff with the serpent...how he healed; some believed he did so through dreams.

  Healing wasn’t my problem - at least not on a physical level, anyway - and dreams...dreams had never helped me work out anything. They let me see Landen, and they tormented me with nightmares.

  As if she could read my thoughts, Rose spoke up. “Dreams can be more than what you’ve known them to be. They’ll be different now; I’m sure of it.”

  “How can they be different? I’ve already proved that the way Landen and I dreamed was extraordinary. He’s real...I’m real...Drake is real.”

  Landen clenched his jaw as he quickly glanced away from us. He was still furious about the nightmares. It didn’t matter that they were invoked, that Drake’s intent wasn’t as dark as it seemed; they hurt me - and you don’t hurt Landen’s family. He reminded me of his father at that moment, the warrior that Ashten was: fearless and extremely protective.

  “Right,” Rose said, sighing, noticing the tension building in the room. “Listen, Willow, your soul is old, very old, and in this life – in the last few months - you’ve learned so much, so fast that you tend to skip over lessons, and you need those lessons...you need the fundamentals.”

  “What lessons?” I asked, growing more and more frustrated with the idea that whatever I was doing when I slept was wrong.

  “Well, most people first have to learn to remember their dreams, then some learn to dream lucidly. From that point, they learn astral projection: moving the soul from one point to another.”

  “Lucid,” I repeated, casting my eyes between her and Landen.

  “Waking up in a dream, knowing that you’re dreaming and controlling the dream, asking questions, or just having fun with your dreams, exploring your wildest desires. It’s a way to face your fears before they become real, a way to ask yourself why you’re dreaming this, what your conscious mind is missing.”

  “I’m awake in my dreams, though. I’ve always known I was dreaming. I’ve always remembered them.”

  My father looked to his side at me. “Correct, but that was your conscious mind, not a lucid dream. Your soul was moved to those . That’s what your grandmother is telling you; somehow, you grasp the hardest part of something first, but you need the learning process to fall back on. You need to understand what you’re doing so you know when you’re doing it wrong.”

  “Well then, I’m not doing anything differently than I was before, so why are you so worried about it now?” I scorned them, ignoring any and all advice they were giving me. We were not the issues; Donalt’s ghost was, those damned people were.

  “Because now, more than ever, you need to find a way to connect with your subconscious. No one could go through what you’ve been through without some kind of release, some time to reflect and look forward. Dreaming, or even lucid dreaming, would allow you to do that. You need a release,” he pointed to my temple, “you need to figure out what’s going on here so you can figure out what’s going on all around you.”

  “I rather enjoy living in denial,” I mumbled. My thoughts were erratic, and the last thing I wanted to do was face what I’ve locked away deep inside of me. Spirit guides? Was he serious? I have enough guides without adding to it. Besides, when Landen and I dreamed together, it was the only time we were truly alone. That was our time, and I wasn’t going to take those movements away; one could argue that they were the only thing holding us together in the first place.

  I nodded and pushed my bowl away; whatever appetite I may have had was gone.

  “Willow, we’ll figure it out,” Landen said, reaching across the table to hold my hand.

  Dreaming is our time, and I don’t want to feel helpless and drift. I don’t even know if that’s safe. I thought.

  You are never helpless. Right now, I would daresay that you’re the only soul the devil fears, he thought.

  I smiled slightly and nodded, feeling the emotions of my father and Rose shift to gratitude. They both admired how Landen could reach me, even in my darkest places.

  “What time are you leaving for Esterious?”my father asked, fully intending on going with us.

  “In a few hours,” Landen answered. “I’m going to help Brady load a few Jeeps. Chrispin is traveling, so they’re short-handed.”

  “What?” I said, not understanding why Chrispin had left. Our family had suspended taking people to find their soul mates; we all felt like we should stay together, that we’d be safe that way.

  “Brady said he left a note on his door that said Olivia wanted to go to Franklin. He didn’t really explain why,” Landen admitted, clearly not concerned.

  “Why, though? Do you think something’s wrong? I mean, we don’t have to worry about my friends there anymore, right?” I asked, leaning forward as my body tensed.

  “I’m sure she just wanted to see her family before we’re all consumed with this trial,” my father said.

  I’d caused Landen to have a concern.“Did Libby say anything?” he asked my father.

  My father shook his head no. “She was playing quietly when I left.”

  “I think it’s odd, to say the least,” I muttered.

  Olivia was almost always at my side now. I was actually expecting her to show up at any moment. I’d been anxiously waiting for her Aura to shift to a light purple, for her dream to outline what was before me.

  “If they don’t come back by tonight, we’ll go and find them,” Landen said to reassure me.

  My father pushed his chair back. “I’ll help you guys load the Jeeps.”

  I sighed, then pushed back from the table and started to clear away the dishes. Landen and Rose helped me while my father called home. I felt his intent: he wanted to make sure Libby was still calm and hadn
’t said anything that would serve as a warning.

  Once everything was put away, Rose made herself a cup of tea, then made her way to the porch to sit with my father and wait on Brady. I leaned against the bar and stared at the floor, lost in a vacant daydream.

  When I felt Landen’s arms go around me, I looked up into his waiting blue eyes.

  Do you want to come with me? he thought.

  I bit my lip, debating if I wanted to or not. “I think I want to paint.”

  He smiled and pulled me closer, gently rocking me from side to side. “Maybe after you paint, you should try and sleep.”

  I moved my head slowly from side to side. “I don’t want to dream without you...I’m not as strong as you. If I go through what I feel you go through, I won’t recover...not as fast as you.”

  He leaned me back and put his hand on either side of my face “Nothing can break through this beautiful mind that you don’t allow.” He let his hand fall to my medallion, bringing my attention to the fact that every piece of it was now with me. “Now...in your dreams,” he whispered as he pulled my hips against him and leaned down to kiss my neck, “we’ll be the only ones.” When his lips reached my ear, warm chills spread across my body as my skin blushed.

  “I’ll try,” I breathed as I guided his lips to mine, taking in every part of him, feeling his racing heart against my chest.

  I felt Brady getting closer to the house and reluctantly ended my passionate kiss. Landen smiled at me as his fingertips reached to trace my lips, then he looked down and went to finish getting ready.

  I passed through the front hall to meet Rose and my dad on the front porch. As I walked by the stairs, one of my butterfly friends danced down the staircase and followed me out the front door. I smiled at Rose as I leaned against the rail, watching Brady’s jeep coming closer. Suddenly, a cool breeze flew through the air, and from the flowers that hung around our porch over fifty butterflies emerged; I couldn’t help smiling at their remarkable beauty.

  As Brady pulled up in front of our house, he looked out his window at me and smiled slightly.

  “You OK?” he asked.

  I closed my eyes and nodded, knowing without a doubt that I must have looked worse than I felt.

  “Landen will be out in a second,” I said to him.

  My father stood and stretched. “I told Landen I’d help you boys,” he announced, walking to the backdoor of Brady’s Jeep and sliding in.

  Brady nodded and smiled. “August said there was a lot to take today. Travelers have already taken two loads of food.”

  “Hey,” I said, remembering that Chrispin was gone, “what happened? Chrispin left you a note saying he was going to Franklin? Does that not seem odd?”

  Brady leaned back in his seat and looked forward, then back at me. I could feel his concern. “I thought so, but I called Dad to see if Preston had said anything or was acting strange, and he said no. Allie is calm, too. I’m sure they were just going to visit,” Brady explained, not believing his own words.

  I know Olivia loves her family, but she’s not close to them at all. For a moment, I wondered if she went to look for Dane. I knew she felt guilty for fighting with him. In a way, she thought she’d destroyed mine and Dane’s friendship, but I knew that was impossible. This was just a dark spot; when he comes home everything will be fine.

  Landen came out the front door, waved goodbye to Rose, then tenderly kissed me goodbye, still holding the hum of passion from our last embrace in his touch. As he stepped off the porch, he smiled impishly at me.

  “What?” I asked as he opened the passenger door.

  He shook his head as he slid in. “I swear you’re a butterfly magnet lately.”

  As he said that, another flock of butterflies flew out from the flowers. I grinned slightly. “Love you.”

  Love you, he thought as they drove away.

  Rose cleared her throat and stood to walk to my side. “That could be a good omen,” she suggested as her eyes followed a beautiful group of yellow butterflies that were dancing around me.

  “Really?” I asked, gently reaching my hand out to offer a warm landing. Two yellow and blue ones landed there and fanned their wings gently. I’d always been amazed by them, how silently beautiful they were.

  Rose nodded. “Some worlds believe they are old souls watching over us.”

  Her words made me tense.“Well, if that’s the case, I don’t see the good omen; I see a warning that something bad is about to happen,” I said as dread and anticipation set in.

  Rose placed her hands on my shoulders. “You must see the positive; Mars will reflect any negative emotion you give it. Be happy someone – or thing - is waiting to help you.”

  “It’s coming, isn’t it?” I moaned, looking back at her.

  “It’s already come in your thoughts. I hope you made sure it was infantile compared to your strength.”

  I looked at her with the utter confusion I felt.

  “I’ve told you before: your thoughts lead your way. Whatever you think will happen, will,” she said quietly as her eyes rapidly moved across my face.

  “I just don’t know if I can agree with that, Rose. I would have never thought my way into what I’ve faced; I honestly think we have no control.”

  Rose sighed and rubbed her hand across my back. I felt her intent not to argue with me.“There’s no way to know where you are on your journey. Focus on the end, and you’ll be there as you see yourself to be.” She reached her arm around me. “That’s what I would do, anyway.” Her wise smile made me feel so safe. I nodded, but I wasn’t going to change my mind; this ‘power of thought’ thing was bogus.

  “I’m going to go. You get some rest for me,” she demanded as she walked down the front steps.

  I nodded, then leaned against the rail and watched her go. Oddly, I did feel like someone was watching me. I looked to my side, and every butterfly that had been fluttering around had landed on the rail around my porch. They were all spaced evenly and facing the field. In a way, they looked like they were waiting on someone to give them orders.

  I shook my head, sure that I was tired and that my mind was now leading me to believe that butterflies had an intent beyond their purpose.

  Chapter Two

  I knew that if I sketched and fell into my imagination, it would capture me for hours, and I wanted something to do until Landen came back from helping Brady. So, I grabbed a sketch book from the drawer in the kitchen and made my way into the living room. I opened the drapes so I could see the butterflies still resting on the front porch, then I fell into the couch and cuddled under a blanket. For countless minutes, I stared at the blank sheet on my lap. I remembered how I used to wish for more time to sketch, to paint; how it was the only thing that made me feel alive. Now, it seemed at times that it was more of a task, like I was forcing a creative rush that wasn’t ready to show itself.

  I started to outline a large butterfly, thinking it would be something simple enough to start my flow of creativity. As I brought this image to life, my mind was somewhere else, remembering the last image I’d made, the one with the demon in the center and my images on both sides and Landen and Drake in the background. Though I hated to admit it, Olivia was right then. I was my issue; it wasn’t the demon, or even Drake and Landen. I was trapped in the illusion that I could change the past.

  I’ve always felt that a promise was a debt owed to whomever I spoke it to, and I’ve always made it a point to only make promises that I knew I could keep. I had an undeniable fear that I’d made promises to Drake that I couldn’t keep, and that broke my heart. It also caused tension between me and Landen.

  Yesterday, Perodine found me peering out her study window while the others were studying the stars in the observatory. She told me it was my Scorpio nature to want to know what once was, that somehow I had a natural instinct to uncover hidden truths. I knew in her own motherly way, she was telling me not to worry. I also knew that she thought that whatever I uncovered about my past woul
d bring me more unrest than calm. I’m sure that would be enough to make most people turn away, but it only made me want to know more.

  I made myself focus on the sketch I’d been drawing. The butterfly’s wings stretched out to corners of the page, and in the lines of the wings I’d managed to portray my image over and over. In a way, they looked ghostly. Suddenly, an eerie chill ran down my back, and I couldn’t find the courage to finish the image. So, I closed the sketch book and stretched out on the couch.

  My mind was racing though everything I wanted to unravel. At times, it seemed there weren’t enough hours in the day to think the thoughts that needed my attention.

  As my eyes closed, I imagined how this evening would play out. I would have to listen as Perodine and Alamos argued their perspective, and I’d have to feel the uneasy tension between me and Drake.

  Each time I looked in his eyes, I could feel the humming rush of his energy in my soul, and I’ve had to struggle to hold any emotion that may bring friction down deep inside. The thought of living through that again caused anxiety to pour into me. I closed my eyes tightly and began to let out small breaths, telling myself to calm down over and over again.

  I was going to make it a point to insist that we find the girl that I knew was my twin. I had to; this love triangle was killing me. I knew without a doubt that they would all argue that that act would be a waste of time. I was even more sure that Drake’s protest would be loudest; it was as if he saw my quest for her as an insult to his feelings for me.

  As my eyes closed, images of everyone I loved raced through my mind. I could hear their voices, the advice, and the promises overlapping. Then all at once, I found myself standing in darkness. A glow seemed to be coming from beneath me. In its gleam, Landen appeared in front of me. I smiled at him, but he didn’t smile back. His blue eyes were cold and seemed to be staring into nothing. I questioned him with my fearful expression and tried to focus on his emotion to see what was wrong, but I couldn’t feel him. I couldn’t feel anything at all, and that terrified me; that fear took my breath away.