It has been four taunting days and three excruciatingly long nights. I have slept as much as my body and mind will allow me to, and now I can no longer sleep. Lying here awake, I am suspended in my own consciousness.
I do not want to leave my bed. All I want to do is sleep. If I do not sleep, then I cannot return to the realms. For some unknown reason, I have not been able to travel back to Arde. I do not understand what I did? I do not understand what went wrong?
Each day, I become more and more frustrated over the fact that I do not know if Espen is dead or alive. I feel as if I cannot continue on with my life until I know. Each time the thought of him fills my mind, I find myself going straight back to the last moment I saw him. The last moment when I knew he was still alive. Painful chills surge down my spine as the worst thoughts take over me. This isn’t fair! Why is this happening to me? I have to get back to the realms. I have to get back to Espen.
When my eyes are shut, I am instantly taken back to the Realm of Zomier. My blood stained hands flash horror in front of my eyes while Espen’s body lies motionless on the ground in front of me. With each forced breath he takes, the sounds of his weakening moans fly to my ears. My heart fills with a joyous sigh knowing, at that moment, he was alive.
With fear in my heart, I watch as King Ambrosious battles the King of Zomier. Staring at them with terror and sorrow, I see the pain on King Ambrosious’s face as he removes the head of his only brother.
He does not even take a second to mourn. Instead, he rushes straight over to Espen’s other side and begins pressing his hands over the stab wound. Numerous sounds of battle surround the air around us. They seem so vague and distant, and yet the battle is happening only a few feet away from us.
That exact moment-those exact thoughts, have become the worst, and also the most comforting reoccurring memory I have ever lived. And the best part, or should I also say the worst part is I have relived these moments over and over again for the last ninety-six hours. It is all I can see. It is all I can feel. It is all I can think about.
“Mommy…are you awake?”