Dragonya

Edgar awoke to the sound of his mother singing as she prepared a meal. He was back home, laying in his own bed and watching the sun rays dance into the room through the trees. He jumped out of bed and ran into the kitchen to see his mother, smiling ear to ear.

“Good morning, Edgar.” His mother said upon his arrival.

“Mother!” Edgars heart took flight. “You’re alive!”

“Of course I am, silly.”

Had it all been some terrible nightmare? He didn’t hesitate to believe it for one second.

“Wheres father?”

“Out gathering some wood for a fire. It might be a good idea for you to see if he needs any help.”

“May I eat first?”

“Of course you may. Such silly questions you have this morning.”

Edgar sat down at the table and awaited breakfast with his mouth watering. It seemed like days since he had last eaten, and why not, his dreams had been so vivid the time lapse seemed too real not to feel the effects of. He sat patiently, still smiling.

“My your bright this morning, Edgar. Good dreams?” His mother asked as she placed his plate in front of him.

“The dreams are not what brighten my face, the fact that they were just dreams is what makes me happy.” He answered as he looked over the meal before him. Eggs, bacon, flapjacks, sweet rye, and jellies. His eyes widened as his mouth flew open for the fork.

“What do your dreams tell you, Edgar?” His mother asked.

“Too much to think of, mother, too many things happening all at once.”

“Well, you can always talk to me about it if it becomes unbearable. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Edgars mother turned to look out the window with a solem expression. She worried a lot about Edgar these days as he had grown more distant. Often she wondered if maybe it was her who had become more distant. Her marriage had become far more awkward than she’d ever imagined and she prayed Edgar would not have to be confronted with the effects of it. Afterall, these problems were not for children, even if it would teach them to grow up, it could have a potentially drastic outcome. She just stared out at the swaying trees while her mind played tag with her heart.

“Edgar. . .”

Edgar recognized that voice from his dream and grew frightened. He looked around for a face to match it, but found nothing. He imagined his mind was playing tricks on him, eventhough the familiarity of the voice struck him as nothing vague. He took a deep breath.

“You should open your eyes. . .”

There it was again, that haunting voice from his dream, that voice that made him tremble. He was home again and nothing had changed, his mother had made him breakfast while his father was out gathering wood. Turning to find his shoes, he found Perrin.