Chapter Three

RPOV

The world was a blur, armored figures without faces were surrounded by a light haze. I walked by them, hoping to finally find someone I recognized, but each was the same. Nameless faces and faceless names that would soon be forgotten. I touched a few of their metallic shoulders as they passed me, hoping to spark some kind of familiarity, but they continued strolling by without even a glance in my direction.

The crowd grew and I found myself in the middle, feeling trapped amongst the stark warriors. When suddenly, I spotted a gap in the masses where a tall figure stood unmoving between them. I walked closer to it, roughly pushing through the slow-moving hoard of troops and trying my best to keep my sights fixed on where the statuesque figure remained. The closer I got, the sharper the image became. His face was still blurred, like the others, but his eyes...

Those eyes.

Their deep brown gaze was glued to me, reading me piece by piece. I finally made my way to stand right in front of him and as I looked up I had this unnerving feeling that they were somehow looking deep into the darkest parts of me. I reached up to touch him, hoping that the contact would finally reveal his face to me but as my fingers brushed his chin I felt a smooth, hard surface where his skin should be. I backed away, startled by the coolness under my touch, only to find that he wasn't a man at all—but a stone statue.

His boulder-like features began to twitch, making an eerily cracking noise and suddenly his face contorted from that of a man to a dragon. The gargoyle snarled at me, now red-eyes beaming brightly causing my body to jolt and sending me careening to the ground.

When I landed, I had expected to fall onto the plush grass from the training field but instead, I hit a hard, sharp surface. I looked up to see that the gargoyle was gone, but I was surrounded by another familiar scene. My hand slid on something warm and wet, and when I pulled it out from under me and up to my face—it was covered in blood. Soft wails filled the air and I darted my head around for her, but my body was bloodied and broken, unable to move. My left foot dangled limply off the stone ledge and I could hear the rapids crashing below.

"Lissa," my raspy voice pushed out. Her cries intensified, and I gripped my wet hand onto the side of the cliff to hold on. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to wake myself from this recurring nightmare and took in a deep breath.

My eyes shot open to reveal my dimly lit bedroom and a pang of relief rang through me. I launched out of bed and raced down the hall to Lissa's room. I could hear her soft cries echoing off of the stone walls and increased my pace. Without warning, I burst through her chamber doors and shot over to her bed. Gripping her shoulders, I called out to her, "Lissa. Lissa, wake up. It's just a dream."

She thrashed against me at first, but not long after her jade eyes opened, tears leaking out of them and streaking across her already wet face. She looked around her room, slightly confused for a moment, before landing her sights on me and pulling me in for a tight hug. I held her against me and smoothed her hair back.

"Shhh. It's alright Lissa. You're safe. We're safe." My words were meant to calm her, but I found myself using that familiar phrase to slow my racing pulse as well. Being pulled into her dreams wasn't as uncommon as I would've liked—especially when it was of that day. The day that I had died.

I continued rubbing her back as she came down from her nightmare—or memory I should say.

Every so often when the weather was right, Eric and Rhea used to organize an outing for us and Andre where we would all take our horses to a nearby quarry and enjoy the afternoon air. The sun didn't burn the Moroi alive like it did Strigoi, but it was still menacing, so on a particularly cloudy day, the Dragomirs indulged in taking advantage of seeing their kingdom in the daylight.

We rode for hours around the grounds before finally settling at the quarry near sunset. The clouds lit up in the most beautiful golden color and we couldn't help but stop and admire it. It was the last happy moment we had all shared together as a family. As we rested there, gazing at the serene scenery, the ground suddenly shifted and the horses went wild. The soil below us crumbled and Eric, Rhea, and Andre flew backward into the gaping opening. For some forgotten reason, Lissa and I had shared my horse that day and were positioned at the back of the group. I could see the crater spreading toward us and instinctively threw Lissa from the horse's back before she would topple in as well. After falling, I landed hard on one of the cliff side's ledges, shattering my back and slicing my side open on one of the sharp protruding rocks. I had never seen so much blood in my life and panic raced through my veins, only causing the red liquid to spill out that much faster. The last thing I remembered before completely blacking out from blood-loss and fear, was a blurred vision of Lissa climbing down the rocky edge towards me.

"I couldn't save them," she whimpered into my nightgown and gripped her quilts as I smoothed her hair. "They were too far."

After the accident, I woke days later in my room surrounded by chirurgeons and healers only to find out the rest of the Dragomirs had perished in the fall. Everyone thought it was a miracle I was alive—but Lissa and I knew the truth.

Moroi are able to access the elements of the world: air, fire, water, and earth. When they become a certain age they eventually specialize in a particular element and can use their abilities to control it. Many of the Moroi in St. Vlad's Valley were air and earth users, which was why our forests were so lush and beautiful, but Lissa was special. There was a fifth element known to Moroi, although much rarer. It was called Spirit.

Lissa and I had been testing our theory that she may be able to access Spirit for a couple of months before the accident since she had yet to specialize in any other element. We created small, harmless trials here and there, but the day of our fall, Spirit had burst through her. She climbed down to the ledge I had landed on and used her magic to heal me and bring me back from death's dark clutches. Since that day we had been bonded together by more than family and friendship. Other than being sucked into her dreams now and again, I could also hear her thoughts. And when her emotions were heightened, I would be literally pulled into her mind and could see through her eyes.

Lissa's crying had finally settled and she slowly peeled herself out of my embrace. Wiping her dainty hands across her face she said, "Thanks, Rose. Sometimes the dreams are so real it's like it is happening all over again."

"I know," I replied solemnly. "I saw."

Her eyes shot to mine. "It happened again? Oh Rose, I'm so sorry. I wish there was a way for me to control it."

"What? And let me get a decent night's sleep," I retorted sarcastically. "No way. I live for these days."

"Yeah well just wait for the day you appear in my head while I'm at the garderobe. You won't be so chipper then."

"Christ Liss! Way to paint a disturbing visual," I grimaced. "You just had to go there." Lissa started to giggle and despite still being slightly horrified, I couldn't help but smile at her lightened mood.

"Come on you churle, get dressed. I'll join you for breakfast before your meeting with Victor."

"Excuse me," Lissa coughed out at my insult. "You're the one who walks around here dressed like a stable boy!"

I laughed at her saucy attitude as she rose from her bed and headed to snag one of her eloquent dresses. I would be going straight to the camp to start training that night, so I didn't even bother with dressing up before we walked down to the dining hall; even though the majority of my gowns were as modest and bare as they came. I was never one to be put on airs and hated adorning all that heavy material. Luckily, Lord Dashkov didn't mind my less feminine choice in clothing when we met in the castle.

A few others close to us knew about Lissa's abilities and the bond we shared, including Victor Dashkov. He was the Dragomirs' closest friend and ally, and our official Ward until Lissa took a husband to claim her rightful place on the throne. We had grown up calling him Uncle Victor, even though there was no true relation, but he was a huge support to us over the past few years and was beloved by anyone who knew him. He was just, fair, and kind to the people of our kingdom. He had taken a great interest in helping mold Lissa into a suitable ruler and worked side by side with me to maintain the solidity of our troops. We loved him dearly and he was one of the few people we could trust with all of our secrets.

Despite the early hour, the table was already set with fresh, warm bread, slices of ham, and an assortment of jams. The staff around the castle had a way of knowing exactly when to expect us, even without our notice. I dug into the meal with my bare hands and stuffed my face while Lissa, the ever so regal one, modestly tore her food into pieces before slipping them into her mouth. I had been told that my eating habits had a way of putting people off their meal, but it didn't stop me from filling my belly as I saw fit.

"So, what is your meeting about today," I asked Lissa with a chunk of ham dangling from my mouth.

"Rose, please. Chew then talk," she admonished, but I could still see the tiniest hint of amusement behind her scolding. "Natalie is still out on tour, negotiating some of Victor's terms on his behalf, but she has sent word back regarding some of the other Royals' responses."