Logan Miehl - The Festival of Vision and Fire

The Festival of Vision and Fire
Fiction Young Adult Fantasy

Copyright 2019 by Logan Goodrich

All rights reserved. Excepting short quotations in reviews, no part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written permission from the author. For information regarding permission, please contact the author at .

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, events, or places is entirely coincidental.

Cover by Jenny Zemanek at Seedlings Design Studio
Editing by Catherine Jones Payne at Quill Pen Editorial Services
E-book production by Kella Campbell at E-books Done Right

Published by Touchwood Publishing

E-BOOK EDITION ISBN 978-0-9978547-6-3 VERSION 1.1

To every wandering soulfor all that is lost, and all that is found.

M y breath is loud in my ears. I blink, and the landscape around me begins to take shape. Wisps of mist gather at my feet, forming a grove of trees.

I reach out to touch the nearest branch and gasp as my fingers pass right through it, scattering particles of mist that swirl together again in an instant.

Everything, from the sparse grass to the bark on the trees, is gray. Well, almost everything. I glimpse my own arm and see that Im dressed in a purple robe.

I take a step, and the mist scatters and re-forms around me. Theres a small clearing in the trees. I pause at the edge, listening to the wind of my breath in this soundless place.

Am I dreaming?

My eyes lock onto the muted earth at the center of the clearing as it stirs, picking up speed until a tornado of smoke forms into a pillar.

As the pillar solidifies, my intuition kicks in.

I try to look away, to turn and run. But I cant. I cant do anything but watch as Naoise appears in front of me, looking as real as the night we met.

Like me, hes also draped in a purple robe. We stand still, the only splashes of color in a gray grove, watching each other like two forest creatures who accidentally crossed paths.

My insides scream like Ive caught fire, but my frozen body still wont budge. Naoises clear eyes scan my face. His own face, cut from the pale marble of the gods, is expressionless. His eyes glint with an emotion I cant name.

At last he says, Hello, my traitorous rose. Did you miss me?

I dont respond. Even if I could force my body to react, Id rather endure countless other nightmares than converse with this all-too-real demon from the dead.

Choking silence hangs heavy between us. Suddenly, the spark in Naoises eyes ignites in a raging blaze. His hands clench into fists at his sides. My throat constricts, and the sound of my breath goes silent.

His voice doesnt rise above a low hum, but it carries the energy of a hurricane. I expend my strength to heed your call, and yet you remain silent.

I wade through his words, acknowledging that this is a dream while also remembering Naoises unique abilities. Hes created a place of mist and shadow beforea dimension within the mind where he showed me memories of his past. Could it be that, even in death, hes able to contact me here?

Naoises anger seems to cool to a simmer as he quirks a dark brow. Perhaps you are moved beyond words at the sight of me. Did you truly believe me to be dead? I thought you, of all creatures, would know better.

The gray trees wobble and blur together. Naoise removes his gaze from me to observe the fading forest.

I must depart, he says. Already my energy wanes. Let us meet again. Soon.

Color drains from his purple cloak, pooling at his feet like dark blood. I want to scream at him, to order him to stay away from me. But, like in most of my nightmares, Im rendered useless. Mute and motionless.

Naoise must sense the fear Im unable to express because, as we both scatter into tendrils of drifting smoke, the last thing I see are his lips widening into a serpents smile.

THE END

I lean low across Sonas back, his maroon coat glistening as we race against the golden sun. Everything, from the open sky to the emerald hills scattered with colorful will--the-wisps, is bursting with life.

I am alive.

A pink sunset fades into the blood-orange clouds gathered on the distant horizon. The smell of a summer storm fills my lungs just before the first raindrops pelt my exposed head, neck, and arms.

I look at the transformed sky that grows darker by the minute. Im about to tell Sona to turn around when I peer ahead, into a film of heavy mist. And thats when I see him.

Naoise.

His shadowy form waits for me, predicting my next move as he always does. Dread crushes me as I realize there is no escape.

My scream makes Sona rear onto his hind legs. With a startled cry, I fall to the sodden earth.

The remaining air in my lungs gets knocked from my chest as I hit the cold linoleum floor of the apartment. I detangle myself from my bedding, wheezing as I try to breathe.

It was just a nightmare. It was just a nightmare. It was just a nightmare.

I half-crawl to the bathroom, blinking against the soft afternoon light slanting through the closed blinds. As I wash my face in the sink, I avoid looking in the mirror. I dont need to be reminded of how haggard Ive grown in the last several weeks.

But its a small price to pay for safely returning home from the Otherworld. These days, the worst demons only exist in my dreams.

At least for now, anyway.

I lean against the bathroom wall, using a breathing technique I learned last month to help with anxiety.

If only Google could tell me how to purge Naoise from my mind for good. Killing himhowever necessary it was at the timecame with an unexpected consequence: his lingering presence, haunting me, punishing me for what I did.

The heater turns on, startling me into a crouch, my fists raised. I quickly recover, glad for once that I live alone so that no one witnessed me almost attack a heat duct.

A glance at the alarm clock tells me its time to catch a bus to the RobertsesDarrens adoptive parents. Since I prefer to sleep fully dressed, just in case, I tighten my ponytail and call it good. Then I grab my coat and lock the door on my way out.

As small as this studio apartment is, its the most space Ive ever had to myself. The faerie suite I stayed in last summer never felt like mine . A golden cage is still a cage.

But as I trudge through slushy snow toward the downtown skyline, I smother a stubborn pang of loneliness in my chest.

This is the first time Ive lived alone. I couldnt leave foster care until I turned eighteen this winter. And while independence is all Ive ever wanted, Im still finding my stride as an adult.

It helps that Darren and the Robertses live a quick bus ride away. When they offered to pay my rent until I got a better job, I wanted to say no. Allowing them to do that was one of the hardest choices Ive ever made. Ive never been good at taking handouts.

But Darrens happiness outweighs my pride. We grew up in separate foster homes, and Id dreamed of the day Id live close to him again. Since we returned from the Otherworld, everything Ive been waiting for has fallen into place.