“Healing quickly, sir?” Uric asked, confused.
Brutus sighed. “Apparently.” He shrugged slightly. “The boy is young, and Aziz told us he will be able to heal from his wounds faster than normal.”
Uric felt sceptical. He thought Brutus almost looked the same. Reaching beside him, Brutus handed him an arrow. It was longer than normal, and the end was decorated with a black ostrich feather. Uric had never seen one before, but he knew what it was. The people in the east were known for using things like this on their weapons. There was a smell coming from the arrow as well, something he didn’t recognize, but it offended his nose.
“Use this when you’ve located him. It doesn’t matter where it hits, as long as you get him.”
Nodding slowly, Uric looked down at the arrow and wondered what kind of pain it would cause its intended victim. Whoever this boy was, he had made a great enemy out of the sorcerer.
It didn’t take him long to find the boy: he was the one person almost every pair of eyes around the field was drawn to. No one could understand how he kept getting up and fighting. Everyone saw him get bitten numerous times by the evil creatures, but nothing fazed him. He was unstoppable—a force to be reckoned with. Uric pulled back the string on his bow and then watched as the fateful arrow flew through the air into the shoulder of the young boy. He looked even younger than Uric himself. The cries that escaped the boy were painful to listen to and stayed with him as he retreated with the rest of the army.
It would take months for Uric to forget those screams, knowing that it had been he who had inflicted such pain. He would often wake up in the middle of the night, the boy’s cries filling his mind. Once again the truth of war had reared its ugly head, and Uric found himself wondering if there was another path in life that would suit him better than this one.
All the sounds from the field faded into the background. There was a bright light in his eyes, keeping him from making out what was in front of him. The heat still radiated through his body. It was unbearable. He tried to call out for someone to help, but no one was there, no one would answer. He could hear his voice now. It was clear in his mind, and no more rushing sounds filled his ears. The pain started to subside. The heat was still there, but it was no longer painful. His breathing returned to normal. Suddenly, he felt something soft underneath him. It was comfortable, and the smell around him became familiar.
Aiden woke up in his bed. His pillow and sheets were soaked with sweat; his blankets lay kicked off onto the floor. Gasping for air, he looked around and realized immediately where he was. Reaching to his shoulder, he felt nothing. There was no arrow, no poison. He was fine, and he was home. A light shone through his window again. Getting up, he rushed toward it, looking down at the lawn beside his house. There was nothing there. The light was coming from a street light beside the house. It had always been there, he remembered, casting a low glow through his window.
Looking down at his body, he saw he was wearing the same thing he had been wearing before Diana appeared. Nothing had changed. There were no cuts or bruises, nothing to suggest he had been hurt in Eden. Had it been a dream? The idea crashed into him like a hammer. What if everything he had been through for the last couple of weeks was nothing but his imagination? He walked over to his bedside table, picking up his phone. The date hadn’t changed; no time had passed.
“It can’t be,” he said out loud. It had happened—he was sure of it. Or was he? Another world that coexisted alongside their own, where people still lived like they were in medieval times, and he was some expert with an axe, and could ride a horse? It was all so hilarious when he really thought about it.
Looking around his bedroom, he walked over to his computer desk. Across the surface were the papers he had been writing on for the book report he had been doing. It all came back to him. He had just read the infamous book by C. S.Lewis, the book about another world, where a war was taking place and the children from this world helped to fight it. Shaking his head, he picked it up and laughed. No wonder his imagination had gotten the better of him. Beside it was one of his computer games too, the World of Warcraft, where he used an axe as his weapon. It all made sense now. Everything had been there already in his subconscious mind.
That was one hell of a dream, he thought, smiling to himself. Even though nothing had happened, he felt a strange compulsion to go down and peek in on his parents. Slowly climbing down the attic stairs, he tiptoed toward their door. It was always slightly ajar during the night, so his mother could hear Eddie. In the light from the moon, he could see the outline of their figures where they lay asleep. Turning around, he walked back toward the attic. As he passed by Eddie’s room, he looked in to see her standing up at the side of the crib. She wore a big smile as he entered.
“Well, hello,” he said in a whisper. An immense amount of relief flooded him as he went and picked her up. Some dreams could have that effect on you, he thought reasonably. It was rare, but sometimes they just felt so real, it took you a while to really shake them off.
He sat down on the rocking chair, cradling his sister in his arms. She poked at his face, giggling as he stuck out his tongue. He started to rock back and forth, singing a lullaby to her as he did. The images from his dream still lingered in his mind. Elisa, the fair-haired, strong-willed girl, who seemed to be stronger and more talented than any boy he’d ever known. She was everything he wanted Eddie to be when she grew up, and their names were even similar to each other.
Wolf, who was the epitome of that perfect man most girls talked about. He was extremely good-looking, smooth with the ladies, and talented beyond belief. In real life Aiden would have hated someone like him; he would never have befriended Aiden if they had been in this world. In his dream, though, he had been a good friend, someone whom Aiden trusted to be there for him when he needed it. He was a lot like Bentley, except in his mind they had been friends. The previous Halloween, Bentley had come to school as the wolf, and Melissa had been Little Red Riding Hood.
Then there was Logan, that token friend who was always ready and willing to supply a laugh, or laugh at your expense. The friend who was easy-going, making everything seem simpler than it was, just like Ethan. Felix came next, hitting a surprisingly sensitive chord in Aiden, even causing him to falter in his song. Picking it back up, he continued to sing to Eddie, watching her eyes growing heavier as he did. Felix had been killed, Aiden thought sadly. He had been a lot like Aiden was here in his world. Quiet, kept to himself, and blended into the background. It was what he was in real life, not some talented and respected individual. He had died, though. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath. No, he corrected himself, he hadn’t died. It was just a dream. No one named Felix actually existed, and therefore no one named Felix had been lost.
As he sat in the chair, keeping Eddie close to him, her little body emanating heat across his chest, he realized how rare it was for people to dream the same dream again. That meant he would never see that place again, or know those characters in his mind again. The dream was lost to him, disturbed because he had been too hot sleeping, and had woken himself up. Tomorrow, he made a note in his head, he would buy a fan.
They fell asleep together in that chair. A hand shook him awake hours later. His mom stood beside the chair he still slept in.
“Hey.” She smiled, keeping her voice low. “What are you doing?”
Looking down, he saw Eddie, with her little pouty face still fast asleep on his chest. She was moving her lips like she was sucking on a bottle, something she often did while she slept. He slowly got up, laying her down in the crib, and followed his mother out into the hall.
“Sorry,” he said, running his hand through his hair. “I must have fallen asleep.”
“I didn’t hear her wake up last night,” his mother commented.
“She wasn’t crying. I just happened to walk by and see her standing there.”
“Well, thanks, Aid,” she said, kissing him on the forehead. “I appreciate your help. Now, sh
ouldn’t you be getting ready for school? You go back today, remember?”
Oh, yes, he thought sadly. His suspension was officially over, and it was back to school life. He sighed, nodding his head and walking toward the bathroom to wash up. He stood under the hot shower, letting it soak into his skin. It felt like ages since he had a shower, which it hadn’t been, but the night before had been rough. The rocking chair was not the best piece of furniture to fall asleep on. Every muscle in his back ached from sitting up all night. He changed the showerhead to the massage setting, letting it beat on the knots along his spine.
Finally, he got out, wrapping a towel around his waist before heading back to his room. After getting dressed, he received a text message from Ethan, telling him his mother would drive them that day. They’d be there at eight to pick him up. Aiden rushed down the stairs to grab a quick bite to eat. Everyone already sat around the kitchen table. Eddie cooed hello, smiling up at him with her toothless grin.
“You made my back very sore this morning,” he said, pinching her cheek.
“No doubt. You’re crazy to have lasted in that thing,” his mother commented, keeping her eyes on the newspaper in front of her.
Aiden grabbed a bowl of cereal and sat down to eat it. Being around the table with his family had never felt so right. He was having an odd morning, he could admit that, but still, he felt happy for some reason. A loud honk came from outside.
“Crap,” he said, shovelling a few spoonfuls into his mouth. “Have a good day,” he said, bending down to kiss his mom on the cheek, and he quickly gave Eddie a peck too.
“Have a nice day at school, love,” his mother said. “Oh,” she called out as he was leaving. “Try not to get into any fights today, would you?”
“I will try my best!”
“Aiden!” she yelled out again. He stopped, looking at her questioningly. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
He looked down to make sure he was properly dressed, which thankfully he was. Looking at his bag and shoes, he simply shrugged his shoulders. “No?”
“Your glasses?” she pointed out. “You’re not wearing them. How can you see?”
He could feel the colour drain from his face. Aiden rushed into the powder room, looking at his reflection in awe. She was right: he wasn’t wearing any glasses, but he could see perfectly.
“Diana,” he whispered. Something lit up inside him, an overwhelming feeling that he could not quite define. It had been real, all of it. Diana must have brought him home so he would heal from the arrow. Heal from the arrow. He couldn’t believe he was even thinking something like that. It was all crazy and impossible, and yet there he stood, with perfect vision, just like Diana had given him. She had said it wouldn’t last when he got home. This must have been her gift to him, he thought affectionately. A piece of Eden to let him remember it all, and to make sure he wouldn’t forget them.
His mother appeared in the doorway, her face full of concern.
“What is wrong with you?” she asked, looking confused by the complete exhilaration that filled his face. He couldn’t help but smile.
“Nothing,” he said, almost laughing.
“Do you want me to go get them for you?” she asked, motioning toward the stairs.
“Nope,” he replied, smiling. “I don’t need them. I can see perfectly.” He gave her another quick kiss and then ran out the door to meet Ethan.
Aiden’s mom walked slowly back to the table after she watched him drive off to school. Michael was busy reading the paper. She cleared her throat to get his attention.
“Did you see that?” she asked.
“The glasses thing?” he asked stupidly.
“Yes, the glasses thing. He doesn’t need them anymore, he said. How is that possible? What is he, Spider-Man all of a sudden?”
His father shrugged his shoulders, looking back down at the article he had been reading. “Hormones?” he said, putting the conversation to an end.
Eden Page 27
