Say That You Love Me

She never told anyone about it, but she still dreamed about the war. Every night. The snarling hatred of the foe- people she had once called family, if she ever knew what that meant. The passionate cries, begging people to keep going forward. Familiar sights, all broken and beaten and churned into the mud. Nothing, nothing ever was left clean and beautiful. And the blood. The empty eyes, sinking down. Beating back against the enemy. Beating back against her pathetic excuse for a leader and his cowardice. Beating on the chests of the fallen, they were so close to home, all they had to do was breathe, please just stay. Stay.

Why didn't they stay?

Why didn't they listen?

Why did she have to leave?

Why didn't anyone want her?

...Was there something wrong with her?

She woke up screaming. In fear, in rage, in pain, she never knew. Just a noise of agony. It took a moment to collect herself, shuddering in her blankets, doused in sweat. She pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes until she saw stars, trying to control her breaths like you'd pull on the reins of a wild horse. She dragged her hand toward the nightstanding, looking for the lamp. Instead, her fingers found cool metal. She turned it over. A coin? It was smooth and cold however, and something about it soothed her racing heart. She closed it in her fist and stood up, putting on some slip on shoes. Sleep wasn't going to come back so easily- she needed to go for a walk.

The November air hit her hard, her breath swirling around her as she walked. At least her pajamas were comfortable, and yet somehow she couldn't clear that remaining grogginess of sleep from her head. It was as if she was wandering through a dream. Fiera picked up the pace- she didn't need that dream following her. Somewhere there was music too. A party? Who was throwing a party at this time of night. Morning? She still found herself drawn toward it regardless. It was comforting almost, just putting one foot in front of the other while playing with that coin. Something to do that wasn't thinking. It wasn't until she found herself in the cave, saw the pool and the treasures that she realized something might be off.

A creature moved in the darkness, and yet she couldn't drag her feet into fleeing. All she could do was clutch that coin, her knuckles white. She hissed something, an accusation, she wasn't sure. "A dream? Oh, maybe... but you definitely are." Her grip released. A dream. She was still asleep- the danger was over, in the past. She was going to be okay. "But then... who's the dreamer?" The creature said before vanishing, and her pulse came back. The war, the hate. She didn't want that to come back- she didn't want to know who would dream of that. Of her. Who would dare dream of her as she was then, knife against throats? Fiera needed to get out of here, so she did what she did best.

She lied.

Fiera flung the coin away from her, describing what the dreamer definitely wasn't but GOD she hoped was. "The dreamer is... kind." She said, slipping into it like an old pair of gloves to the point where even she was convinced. "Helpful, in... the face of adversity. Pale colors, like a welcome dawn after a long night. Soft, like a breeze on a hot day. Feathered and soft, opposing toes, like birds coming back after a freezing winter. Eager, like a new puppy fresh to the world. Happy. Nice... to me." She stammered, not realizing that her face was wet. "It's kind. Please, let it be kind."

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(Theme: Adoration. Four toes, possibly opposing each other like a parrot? Pearlescent shades of white, pink, and purple. Feathery, perhaps with false wings for holding, comforting. Kindhearted, single-minded devotion, love for their personal hero. The only star in their sky. They'd do anything for her.)