Solace In His Arms

With a gasp, I catapulted upright in the bed, my skin slick with perspiration and the sheets beneath me soaked through. My heart pounded in my chest, the echoes of the nightmare still vibrating in my skull. Beside me, Fleya lay undisturbed, the peaceful rhythm of her breathing serving as a stark contrast to the tempest that raged within me.

Gently, so as not to disturb her sleep, I slid from the bed. The cool air of the room did little to dispel the heat of my terror, as the visceral images of the dream continued to play out in my mind. Despite the intangibility of the nightmare, it felt alarmingly real, as if I had been physically present, living each horrifying moment.

As I stood there in the stillness, the sense of dread from the dream settled into my bones like a cold, unshakeable frost. It was more than just a residual fear from a disturbing dream, it was a gnawing worry that burrowed deep into my being. The dread suffused my every thought, painting my reality with an unwelcome brush of fear.

I felt a shiver run down my spine, and wrapped my arms around myself, trying to ward off the encroaching chill of terror. What perplexed me was the power this dream held over me. It was just a concoction of my subconscious, wasn't it? Yet it shook me to my core, reducing me to a quivering mess of apprehension. This sensation was unsettling, and even as the long hours of the night slowly bled away, sleep was but a remote memory, a treasure that remained out of reach. Despite the comforting blanket of darkness, the terror that had gripped me refused to recede, leaving me in a limbo of fearful wakefulness.

Sweat trickled down my spine, cold and shivering as I stood frozen in place. Each breath was a struggle, as if the very air around me had thickened, suffocating me. I felt a chill deep in my core that had nothing to do with the cool night air. My heart pounded like a war drum in my chest, every beat echoing the raw terror I had just experienced. The nightmarish images were etched into my mind, refusing to fade, their horrific details sharp and vivid.

Each shrill cry for help reverberated through me, striking deep into my soul. The sight of dismembered bodies raining from the sky clung to my retinas, painting the world around me in hues of blood and terror. But this fear, this unshakeable dread didn't feel entirely my own. It was a shared terror, as if I was connected to others who were experiencing the same horror, their fear intensifying my own, binding us together in this inexplicable terror.

Overwhelmed, I stumbled out of my tent, instinctively seeking solace in the open air. I didn't want to disturb Fleya, who was sleeping so peacefully, oblivious to the storm raging within me. With no clear destination in mind, I simply moved, led by the desperate need to escape the chilling grip of the nightmare.

To my surprise, I found myself standing before Orryn's tent. It stood dark and quiet under the pale moonlight, its presence suddenly looming and significant. Confused, I looked around, trying to understand why my feet had led me here. I barely knew the man, yet here I was, inexplicably drawn to him in the dead of the night.

Shaking off the bewildering pull, I forced myself to take a step back, to create distance. But the moment my foot moved, a wave of panic surged through me, leaving me trembling. It was as if an invisible force was rebelling against my actions, pushing me back towards the tent. And for reasons I couldn't understand, I found myself gripped by an irrational fear of walking away.

The desolation of the night seemed to close in around me, the haunting echo of my dream still resonating in my mind. Fear coiled around my heart like a python, its crushing grip threatening to pull me under into a sea of unending dread. I looked back at Orryn's tent, my instincts warring within me, the need to escape the fear clashing against the strange pull towards Orryn's presence.

'Am I really going to disturb him at this hour? We're not even close,' I thought, trying to reason with myself. But with each passing moment, the fear was growing, gnawing at me with an intensity that was hard to ignore.

The idea of turning back seemed more and more daunting. I took another hesitant step back, but it was as if I had stumbled into a wall of terror, so thick and palpable, it seemed to seep into my bones. Overwhelmed and cornered, I finally swallowed my pride, gently pushed aside the curtain of Orryn's tent and stepped inside.

"Who's there?" Orryn's voice echoed through the tent, laced with a threat. Strangely, his voice, though imposing, began to calm the storm of fear within me. In response, a ball of light flickered to life in his palm, casting dancing shadows against the canvas walls of the tent. His eyes, wide and surprised, landed on me. "Nadya?"

The sound of my name in his voice, his startled expression, it was too much for my overloaded senses. Something inside me shattered, a dam breaking under the relentless onslaught of terror. Before I knew it, hot tears were trickling down my face, their salty trail burning my cheeks. The sight of my tears sent Orryn rushing towards me, his previous shock replaced by concern. Despite my mortification, I couldn't help but find solace in his presence.

"What's wrong?" He queries, the light going out as he cups my face in between his hands. A gesture I had begun to miss, I move his hands out the way and dive into him. The tears unable to stop their flow, he cradled me in his arms as he picked me up and moved me to the bed.

"Shh it's okay," He whispered, stroking my hair as we laid down in each other's embrace. The familiar smell of him soothing my anguish.

We laid there for I don't know how long, as he allowed me to cry and whispered sweet soothing words into my ear.

"What's wrong?" He asked, his voice soft and filled with concern. His warm hands cupped my face, and the dim light went out, plunging us into comforting darkness. His familiar touch made me realise just how much I'd missed him. Without thinking, I brushed his hands away and threw myself into his arms, seeking solace and safety. I couldn't halt the flood of tears that flowed unchecked down my face.

He gently lifted me, holding me against him as he moved us towards the bed. His voice was soothing, a whispered lullaby in the dark. "Shh, it's okay," He murmured, his fingers softly combing through my hair as we lay in each other's arms. His familiar scent, a mix of earth and fire, wafted around me, dulling the sharp edges of my panic.

Time blurred as we lay entwined, the quiet whispers and the gentle rhythm of his breathing lulling me into a sense of security. He held me as I wept, whispering soft words of reassurance, anchoring me in the storm of fear that had taken hold of me.

As the night went on, I found solace in Orryn's arms. His rhythmic heartbeat and gentle caresses lulled me into a sense of security. My nightmare seemed distant, a mere figment of my imagination.

Even though I couldn't voice my fears, Orryn understood. He held me closer, promising silently that he was there for me. His unspoken support was more comforting than any words. Despite the terror of the nightmare still gnawing at me, in Orryn's arms, I felt safe.

And with his silent promise echoing in my ears, I finally let myself drift back into sleep, the horrors of the nightmare momentarily forgotten.