"Who are you?" I awed, floating close to their face above the nothingness of space.

"I," answered the being, "am the Starcaster."

"The Starcaster." I repeated. "What does-" I started, but they raised one hand to shush me.

"Not now." they said, looking around. "Not now. We will meet again. But for now, you need to wake up. Before you forget how." They flicked their wrist and suddenly, I didn't feel as light as a air. A great heaviness took hold and I fell. Further and further. I raced past the clouds and the sky. I was going to hit he ground!

~~~

I jolted in the bed trying to catch my breath. It felt late and a grogginess clouded my mind. Looking out the window, it seemed that night had long since fallen. A deep darkness lay outside. Mom sat in one of the armchairs, resting her head on her palm, sleeping.

I sighed, leaning into the pillows at my back. A sheen of sweat coated my forehead and the covers clung to my body.

What was that? Was it real or just a dream? I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand, but paused. Something felt off. I anxiously looked around.

The room was darker than it had been last night. Somehow, more ominous. It seem to shift and morph in the darkness. I could hardly see past the foot of my bed. As I looked around further, the darkness grew and the ground became less visible.

Something was very, very wrong.

I looked to mom frantically, but she was asleep. "Mom?" I said quietly. She was never a heavy sleeper so I never had to be loud waking her up. But this time, she didn't stir. Her feet were shrouded in the black ink. "Mom?" I called louder.

I untangled myself from the sheets and started to get up, but my side screamed at me to lie back down. Falling back into bed, I looked to the ground. The inky darkness seemed never ending. I'm not sure if I could walk through it or if I would fall forever.

I reached out my hand to the floor, tempted to run a hand through the pitch black river, but quickly drew it back. I had no clue what this was. What if it was dangerous?

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

My overhead light flickered and suddenly snapped out. What's happening? My thought was met with a shape rising from the darkness. I gasped sharply and flew to the corner of my bed.

I only had what little light the window gave to help me see the figure. Straining my eyes, I saw the tall figure looming at the foot of my bed. It was very tall, close to seven feet, and extraordinarily skinny. It's shape was a shrouded black nothingness like it was covered in a shawl. From the chest down, it's body thinned until I couldn't see it past the foot of the bed. The only things that shone in the darkness were its' eyes, if you could call them that. They were more like sockets of empty space. Exuding bright white lights.

I trembled in the corner of my bed, taking in shaky breaths. There was a long stretch of silence before I whispered, "Wh-who are you?"

The figure moved to the right side of my bed faster than lightning to just an arms length away. I didn't have time to gasp before it spoke. "Good evening," It started in a deep, classical voice. "I have come to collect you for my lord and master," He leaned in closer and I drew back, "He is very interested in your run-in with The Starcaster, you see," It said tilting its head to the side. "It has been quite some time since I've seen him so excited. My, what a sight," His head turned upward as he sighed.

I waited, unsure of what to do. He was too close, I could feel an energy radiating off of him that made my skin tingle. It was as if tiny icicles pricked themselves into my skin over and over again.

Looking back to me, he continued, "He bid me to collect you immediately," Extending an arm of darkness, he said, "Please, if you would take my hand, we can be on our way."

I cowered into the covers. What was happening? The Starcaster? That was a dream. A dream I just woke up from. How could he know? How could he be here so quickly?

My mouth hung agape. What was I supposed to say? His master? What is this guy saying? Then again, he did know about my dream. He could be for real.

I furrowed my brow. "What did you do to my mom?" I demanded, holding my ground. It was supposed to sound brave, but instead I sounded just as scared as I felt.

He looked back at her. Throbbing tentacles of darkness now wrapped around her body and head, suckling on her temples. My hand flew to my open mouth. "What does it matter?" He shrugged. "She'll be fine. Just some extra sleep to make sure she doesn't get in my way. Can't have her running off to grab one of those precious Angels, can we?"

Angels? Is he crazy? What is he talking about?

He turned back to me, "Now," he continued more demanding, "your hand."

I couldn't see what else to do. I extended a hand, but paused halfway. He shouldn't be able to tell me what to do or where to go. Not again. "Why should I go anywhere with you?" I hit his hand away. "You can bid your master that I'm not going with you anytime soon. Undo what you did to my mom!" I couldn't back down. I had to fight with what little courage I had left. Even if it didn't work, I had to do something. I felt courageous. Victorious.

Why could it never last?

He paused for a long moment, but soon his form bubbled and shifted. The inkiness of his mass grew and widened, encasing everything around me. His eyes locked on mine. "Wrong answer."