The early dawn sun breaks through the canopy, barely touching the ground, a slight breeze rustling the leaves. A small creek burbles quietly as the forest slowly awakes. A small fox cautiously trots to the creek, taking a wary drink as it watches for danger. It pauses, its ears flicking up. It notices leaves rustling more than they should, branches breaking, and a not quite rhythmic pounding. The fox bolts before whatever danger is approaching can find it.

“C’mon Dran, hurry up! I don’t wanna miss out cause of you!”

A small child bursts out from between the trees, his face a mixture of excitement and impatience. His auburn curls bounce wildly as he dashes forward.

“Liam… slow… down…”

A second child appears, moving slowly, hand on a tree to maintain balance.

“I… can’t… keep up…”

Dran comes to a stop, gasping for air. Liam turns around, now running backwards, and shouts to him.

“I’m not gonna move any slower for you! It’s not my fault if you miss it! Or if you take a rest and get eaten!”

Liam says the last part with a laugh, then spins back around and disappears into the forest.

“Damn it…”

The boy slumps to the ground and rests his back against a tree.

“We don’t even… have to… be there yet…”

He closes his eyes.

“Just gonna… catch my breath… it won’t hurt.”

----------------------------------------

A ray of light hits his eye, the boy groggily stirring from his unintentional slumber.

“Just five more minutes…”

Dran feels a tickle on his face.

“Go away, Liam, let me sleep…”

He swipes at the offending feeling, grasping a leaf in his hand. His eyes shoot open and he leaps to his feet.

“He really left me! I’m gonna make him regret that!”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Dran rushes forward, following the small trail of destruction Liam left in his wake.

“I bet he said I wasn’t coming and I missed it all! That little – I’m gonna pummel him!”

Dran nears his destination, the scent of cooking meat reaching his nose.

“The bastard already started breakfast without me! Bet he’s cooking too, smells burnt to all hells!”

He breaks through the last trees into the clearing, temporarily blinded by the sun.

“Damn it Liam, you shouldn’t have left me!”

He blinks the spots from his eyes then freezes.

“Liam?”

In the middle of the clearing stands the man they were coming to meet. His body is rife with burning cracks. He turns to look at Dran, his face that of a demon. Next to him lies a small, unmoving form, still burning. The demon steps forward, ashen legs flaking away, his hands aglow with the same vicious flame upon Liam’s body.

Dran stands petrified at the sight, with the demon coming closer with each passing moment. Every step makes bits of its legs disappear, turning to ash.

“This is a trick, right Liam?”

He takes a small step forward, heedless of the flaming creature steadily approaching. Dran drops to his knees and reaches out to Liam.

“Just another one of your stupid pranks… Yeah, that’s it!”

The demon comes closer. Its foot burns away and it stumbles, the flames eating away at it faster and faster. It reaches out to Dran.

“…why…?”

The burning hand looms closers, and all Dran can do is watch in a stupor. The hand inches closer and closer, until it finally comes within reach, the flames licking at his head. The hand touched him and –

----------------------------------------

Dran shot up, and he clawed at his burnt skull, a damp bedroll still clinging to his body. His chest heaved as he took gasping breaths. He looked around wildly for the demon, not yet having the mental faculties to register where he was.

Calm down, Dran. It was just that dream again.

He closed his eyes and started to get his breathing under control. He felt a small impact on his side, with an annoyed voice following.

“Damn it Dran, this is why I hate sharing your tent!”

Dran looked over and flushed, realizing it wasn’t just the rock thrower who was glaring at him.

“Sorry Regis. And everyone else! “

Wit a hasty apology, Dran slipped out from his bedroll. Grabbing his gear as quietly as he could, though not quietly enough to avoid several tired looks, Dran packed up and exited the tent.

“Bad dreams again, Dran?”

He immediately recognized the voice and jumped to attention.

“Yes sir!”

In his haste, he shouted louder than was necessary and a chorus arose from his tent behind him.

“Shut up, damn it! Keep your problems to yourself!”

Dran felt another rock hit his back as Regis yelled in frustration.

Lieutenant Keer stepped into his line of sight and set a hand upon his shoulder.

“Worry not, lad. I’ve seen my fair share of issues from soldiers in my time, though you were younger than most by a fair margin. It’ll pass. Well, more likely it’ll be replaced with worse!”

He added the last part with a hearty laugh.

Anything to get rid of that dream.

Dran’s thoughts drifted to wishes of forgetting everything about that day. When he snapped back to reality, he noticed Lieutenant Keer staring at him with a slight twinkle in his eye. Suddenly, Dran knew he wouldn’t like what came next.

“It was so kind of you to wake up the rest of your tent for me. It’s so rare that I get such willing volunteers to help strike camp!”

Regis burst out of the tent, still in underclothes.

“Damn it, Dran!”

With a smile, Keer addressed Dran and his tent.

“Thank you all for volunteering! I personally know how devastating losing sleep is, so I commend your commitment! Especially you, Dran, I know it’s all because of you!”

Looking at Keer after he expressed his gratitude for their ‘volunteering’, Dran felt pinpricks go through his burns. Keer was staring right at him.

His smile isn’t reaching his eyes.