A Trip to Paradyz

A Wolf's Head

Waking up is hard enough when you’ve slept well. On days such as the one Dakota was currently experiencing, she wanted to bury  herself in sand and pretend it wasn’t happening. The dream she had last night was tearing her up inside. Visions of the little girl flashed through her mind. Could it possibly be true? No, it couldn’t be. There was no way she could connect with a little girl on a different planet. Although, if she was precog and her brain worked on a higher level than your average person, perhaps they were able to connect because of that? Dakota pulled her hair up in a messy bun, not because she looked cute in them, but because she was too tired to put forth any effort.

Slipping on some sweatpants and a t-shirt, she slipped out of her room in search of coffee. The scent of it had hit her even from her bed and she knew it was the only way she could survive the day. She padded through and glanced into the living room as Zander and Hawthorne rummaged through a box. They looked to be arguing about something but she didn’t care to listen. “Morning.” It almost sounded like real speech.

“Hey sis.” She grinned at that. If Dakota did have a chance to escape her own reality, she would still want to bring Hawthorne with her. For the surprisingly short amount of time that she had actually known him, she had grown comfortable with the idea of being related to him. A bond had somehow formed and she knew that would be the one bond that would prevent her from leaving.  

She went straight for the coffee. Hawthorne already had a cup sitting out for her, along with two cinnamon rolls on a saucer beside it. He was the best. “Thanks for the caffeine and sugar. Hopefully it’ll wake me up.” She poured the coffee and touched the cinnamon rolls gingerly. They were still warm. She cheered inwardly and licked her finger. After pouring a splash of cream into her coffee, she grabbed the cup and her saucer and made her way to the couch.

She slumped down on the lumpy, thirty-year-old beast as Hawthorne mumbled something about knowing her all too well. She took a bite of one of the cinnamon rolls and literally moaned with delight. Zander laughed, “Need to take that to your room, love?” His rich Scottish accent could make anyone swoon. It was a good thing the man was taken.

“I don’t need privacy for this.” Hawthorne eyed her with reproach. She smiled, showing her teeth like a hyena and chomped another bite of her cinnamon roll dramatically. Zander enjoyed the banter, chuckling loudly as Hawthorne gave a shake of his head. Dakota finished her bite and nodded towards the box. “What are you two doing, anyway?”

Again, there was a sweet chuckle that rang out as Hawthorne looked ready to scream. “Zander wants to decorate for Halloween.”

“That sounds fun. Like scary decorations or more fall, upbeat stuff?” A look passed between them. It gave her a moment of pause, realizing just how opposite they were, not just in personality. Zander had a head full of curly, strawberry blond hair and intense green eyes, where Hawthorne looked more like Dakota: Black hair and warm, caramel colored skin. “What?” Dakota asked, her eyes dancing between them. “What’d I miss? I missed a great argument or something, didn’t I?”

“We’re just having a problem deciding on decorations is all.” Zander answered.

“That’s all?” Zander smirked. Hawthorne huffed out “You’re still not hanging it on the door, no matter how many times you give me that look.”

“Why not? It’s festive.”

“It’s not festive, Zander, it’s grotesque.”

Dakota turned back to her breakfast and listened casually to the argument. Their arguments were always entertaining.

“Babe, it’s for Halloween. It’s not supposed to be pretty.”

“He has a point” she spurted out between a bite and a swig.

Why did she like to add to the argument? It was entertaining. That’s why.

“Dakota, do not antagonize the situation.”

“I’m not antagonizing. But it would be fun to see how far Zander would go if you gave him free reign.”

Zander opened his mouth to argue his point but Hawthorne put a hand up. “No, Zander. We’re not putting a wolf’s head on the door!”

Dakota turned, wide eyed at them, but they didn’t notice.

“Oh, come on. Like the wolves won’t find it funny.”

“No, Zander!”

“Babe, I’m tryin’ to lighten the mood a bit. The last month has been utter shit.”

“We lost six of our people. Of course it’s been awful, but is putting a decapitated wolf head on our door the best way to get over it?”

Zander shrugged but Dakota was still flustered by the conversation. They were arguing about a head. A wolf head… but a head. “Not at first, but it might get some of the others to retaliate. It could get interestin’. Give people something to think about besides… ya know… that.”

A knock interrupted the argument. I swear, if that’s one of the wizards here, I’m gonna puke. Hawthorne grumbled as he opened the door. Dakota sighed with relief when she saw Jessica, if only for a moment. Jessica’s brother was one of the people they had lost during the fight in Seattle. It didn’t take intelligence to figure out what she wanted. Any decisions she made at that point would be strictly to put her in a place where she would be able to seek vengeance.

Hawthorne and Jessica exchanged pleasantries before he began telling her of his current dilemma. “Jessica, be honest; don’t you think this is just too much right now?”

She laughed. The look of shock on Hawthorne’s face made her cover it with a cough. It wasn’t a good cover. “Uh, I guess. It’s a little tasteless, but…” she shrugged, her face falling. “It’s been a few weeks since anyone laughed around here. Maybe we need it.” He watched her for a moment, as if he were trying to read the truth through her eyes. A sigh escaped him. He glared at Zander for a quick moment as he chewed his lip.

It was a subtle decision. There were no more words and the resignation in Hawthorne’s gaze told Dakota that he wasn’t happy with what he was about to do. Very quietly, Hawthorne pulled the fake head from Zander’s hands and placed it on the nail stuck in the front of the door. She gave a half-hearted grin at the gesture. She cleared her throat before asking “You think we could talk about something?” The word “privately” was implied.

“Of course. You mind if we talk in my storage room?”

“It’s a mini doctor’s office.” Zander offered casually as he pulled more decorations from the box.

Dakota took the moment to step outside and get some fresh air. She had seriously been about to lose it when she thought that the girl might be real. She shuffled some house slippers on and walked out onto the beautifully crafted deck and took a deep breath. Sadly, it was disrupted by the lingering scent of a cigarette. She really wished Hawthorne would quit. They ruined the pretty smells of the forest.

Still, the coffee was warm and the birds chirped lightly through the air. She began walking around, taking it all in. The smells of the trees, the early morning dew that dampened her shoes as she walked. She didn’t know what she was thinking. Could she honestly have believed that the girl was real? She didn’t want the girl to be real, that was for sure. But it wouldn’t be the weirdest thing she had ever experienced. It wouldn’t be completely out of the ordinary. What would happen if it was true? If there really was someone that knew about the day of the Demas? The moons crept into her mind again. The eeriness of them. Her mind slipped back into that cell, to the coldness, the smell of blood and feces. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the fresh air around her. Why do I have to be so affected by my dreams? Is everyone affected by their dreams like this? She never thought of it before. Maybe she wasn’t the only one that had dreams that followed them like angry wasps.

“You alright?” The voice that cut through the silence was too familiar to not be someone she knew, but it made her jump just the same.

“How in the hell did I not hear you?” She opened her eyes to see Olontrios staring at her.

Shit. No. No no no no nooooo….

“You were working to hard to block something out. Apparently it was working on all your senses.” He smirked but she couldn’t give him the same courtesy.

“What are you doing here?”

His eyebrows lifted with an offended glare, “Nice to see you, too.”

“Sorry, I’m just…” Dakota swallowed hard, “I’m having a weird morning.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He waved it off, but she knew he was still a bit bothered by her sharp tone. “I actually came to see you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Did you ever figure out how to find your mother?”

The question startled her. “Oh. No. I, um… I tried to get Sage to tell me, but he’s not exactly forthcoming with information of any sort.” He huffed out a hard breath and nodded his head. “Why?”

“Because I think I’ve figured out a spell to call her to you.”

Olontrios, the wizard, was standing in front of her, offering her a way in which to meet her mother. Over the last couple of months, one thing that Dakota realized quickly…. Pay attention to those situations that you try to write off as coincidences. Those are the important parts.

“Before we do that,” might as well pull off the bandage now, “have you ever heard of something called ‘The Day of the Demas’?”

“Yes.” He drew the word out for a long moment as he stared at her curiously. The wind came through and ruffled the shaggy, dirty blond hair on his head. His blue eyes grew with intensity and his already overwhelming, angular face stretched with fierce concentration. “Where’d you hear of that?”

“A dream.” She wanted to keep it simple. She needed to know without altering his thoughts. “What is it?”

“It’s a festival. On Torg.”

“Torg? As in…”

“Yeah," he paused, letting it sink in for a moment before continuing "as in the planet. That you’ve never been to.”