#dreamheart

Waking up in the library, Shadowheart eagerly looked around to see whether Elody was already there. The room was quiet, apart from the crackle of the fire, forever burning in the fireplace.

There had always been something bright and warm in the dreamscapes. The first one had been a sunny hillside with a gentle breeze breaking the heat of the midday sun. The campfire on the beach had been the next source of light and warmth in the dream. That was when their friendship had really turned into something else. In the light of the campfire, their love had budded. Timid, tentative, but it had been there. It had only been in the library, by the fireplace, where Shadowheart had had the courage to say it out loud.

How she longed to utter those words to Elody during the day! Perhaps they could take a walk up on the hills, near the barley fields and the old windmill. The midday sun would make Elody’s hair glisten with hues of copper. They could sit on the cliff overlooking the city. And Shadowheart could take Elody’s hand, kiss her knuckles, and murmur those three words for only her to hear.

Shadowheart was swept into a world of daydreams. When Elody hadn’t appeared after her fantasies had all but run dry, Shadowheart tried to figure out how and why the dreamscape had changed along the way. Yet, no matter how long she pondered, Elody wasn’t arriving.

This must’ve been how Elody felt that night I didn’t sleep, Shadowheart thought.

Oh, how uncomfortable it was to be alone in that magical place where Shadowheart had spent the happiest moments of her life!

She’d never had to intentionally keep herself busy in any dreamscape. Elody was often already there, and, if she wasn’t, she would arrive relatively soon after Shadowheart. And, with Elody there, there was no need to come up with things to do; with her, existing in the same space was enough. There was no need for activities as such. Staring at the fire, exploring the ever-growing catalogue of books and maps, and finding solace in each other were enough. And, for Elody, there was much to write in that secret book of hers.

Without Elody, the library was hollow. There was too much space in the room, when Elody wasn’t occupying some of it. The place was too vast without Elody’s arms fencing Shadowheart in safely. In only one single room, Shadowheart was afraid she’d get lost, if she moved from the settee.

Shadowheart was alone. She stayed in Wyrm’s Lookout for a while. It was stupid, really, but Shadowheart couldn’t make herself move. A tiny voice in the back of her mind convinced her that Elody might come looking for her.

People said that, when you are lost, you should stay in one spot.

In her dreams, the library taunted her. What used to be a sweet place full of memories was now an archive of loss, a constant reminder of what she grieved.

For a few nights, she had sat on the settee, immobile and afraid to move. She had then begun to scroll through every book and map, looking for something.

Anything to prove Elody hadn’t lied to her.

Did she really love Shadowheart? Was it all a sick joke?

You deserve to be alone. Who would love someone who has caused such hurt?

The thoughts were Shadowheart’s new friends. They occupied the library and kept her company while she tried her best to endure the memories kept safe in the room. If only she could’ve forgotten! It would have been so much easier to forget.

Another thing that haunted Shadowheart’s nights in the library was fear. If Elody had loved Shadowheart, what might have happened to her? Why had she not met Shadowheart like they had planned?

Love is a lie.

This voice in her mind was often her companion. The others came and went, but this one lingered. It lived somewhere deep in Shadowheart’s spine, and emerged to spit in her face every day and night.

She didn’t want to believe it. Shar was the Lady of Lies as far as Shadowheart was concerned. Yet, there was no escaping this one tenet of Shar’s dogma. Perhaps Shadowheart was simply fated to be alone.

It may well have been a form of self-flagellation, but when Shadowheart found the courage to leave Wyrm’s Lookout, she headed eastward, towards Cormyr. Along the way, she saw places Elody had told her about. Elody had shown Shadowheart some sketches of beautiful scenery from the road. Shadowheart spent one evening staring at the night sky on a cliffside she’d seen in Elody’s sketchbook.

She could almost feel Elody’s hand in hers. Yet, the spaces between her fingers stayed empty. There was nobody there to hold her hand. What a stupid thing to have hoped for!

She still picked a sad little flower, already wilting from the emerging winter, and plucked its petals, one by one. The flower gave her no answers as to why Elody hadn’t shown.

Shadowheart was in no hurry. She would stay in one place for a while, explore the area, take up what little work she could get from small villages and towns along the way, and move on once she’d seen enough of one place.

In the dreamscape, Shadowheart woke up sitting at the desk in the corner. She stood and turned around to find Elody lounging on the settee, her back towards her. She was busy writing something in a leather-bound book, the tip of her falcon feather quill wiggling erratically with every letter added onto the page. As she wrote, she was humming the tune that was now permanently etched into Shadowheart’s memory.

Shadowheart took a moment to silently observe Elody, so relaxed and in her own world. She seemed free of worry, like nothing in the world could bother her in this moment. If only she could always be this at ease!

Shadowheart walked closer, purposefully making her footsteps heavy so as to not startle Elody.

”What are you writing?”

Elody jumped, slamming her book shut. Shadowheart was prepared to dodge the quill flying from her hand, but Elody carefully put it down onto the coffee table instead.

”Gods, Shadowheart!” Elody held her hand to her chest, breathing heavily. ”You can’t just sneak up on an unassuming girl like that!”

The look of shock on Elody’s face was comical, and Shadowheart had to fight hard to conceal her grin.

”Terribly sorry,” she said, sitting down next to Elody. ”How can I ever make up for the terror I’ve caused you?”

Elody’s grimace soon turned into a smirk. ”I can think of a little something,” she murmured and pulled Shadowheart into a deep, slow kiss.

”Time to go.” Elody’s drowsy murmur was muffled against Shadowheart’s shoulder.

They were still lying on the sand, holding one another. But Shadowheart could feel it, too - the haze that always enveloped the beach before she would wake up. This time, she was determined to stay just a moment longer. She struggled against waking up with all her might, holding back the inevitable with sheer willpower alone. One more taste of Elody’s lips. One more caress of her hair. Elody’s voice in her ear, humming that soft, beautiful tune, just once more.

”Please, don’t let me wake up,” Shadowheart pleaded, but it was all for naught; the beach was already fading away.

Her words had no power. The world around them disintegrated. For a moment, there was nothing.

The sheets were cold and rough against Shadowheart’s skin. She rolled onto her side to find the bed dreadfully empty, save for Scratch, who had found a comfortable spot by Shadowheart’s feet. No cozy campfire. No warm arms of the bard of her dreams holding her. Yet, the warmth in her chest remained, glowing like embers as dawn broke over the rooftops of Waterdeep.

That tune Elody had hummed in Shadowheart’s ear was stuck in her mind. Yet, her memory couldn’t do it justice. Already, Elody’s voice and her body against Shadowheart’s were slipping away in her awoken state, the echo of their embrace breaking into shards of glass.

And Shadowheart could’ve given her whole life away to sleep again!

The hurt tore her chest open. Her whole being yearned to be back with the bard, who had held her tightly, whose lips had caressed hers. Shadowheart brought her hand to her lips, remembering how Elody’s mouth had felt there. Had she been anywhere else but in the House of the Moon, sharing a dormitory with a dozen-or-so Selûnites, she would’ve let out the pain in a scream. Instead, silent tears flowed down her cheeks as her shoulders shook with choked-back sobs.

Scratch stirred, recognizing Shadowheart’s pain. He shifted position and rested his head on Shadowheart’s legs. The gesture was so sweet it brought more tears into Shadowheart’s eyes.

”You’re a good boy, Scratch. Did you know that?” Shadowheart asked the shepherd. He responded with a little lick of her leg.

The tears dried up slowly, but, eventually, Shadowheart was all cried out. Reluctantly, she wrenched herself out of bed. She was set to meet with Gale today. The thought should’ve filled her with joy and excitement. Yet, this very morning, she couldn’t find those emotions anywhere within.

As if guided by an outside force, Shadowheart fixed her hair and makeup. There was very little in terms of vanity items in the Selûnite dormitory, but she made do with a small mirror on top of a dresser by one of the windows. Her eyes glazed over for a while, and she blankly stared at her own reflection, hoping that, by some miracle, a certain bard would appear behind her with a twinkle in her eye and a smile on her lips.

You must’ve gone mad, Shadowheart thought. She’s someone you’ve met in a dream! Snap out of it!