Drake's Dream

“Hey.” It was Drake.

“Hey. What brings you to the Loner Corner?” Loretta asked, patting the ground next to her.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Drake said, jamming his hands in his pockets and sitting next to her.

“What about?” she asked, putting her notebook and pen on her other side and pulling her hood off.

“Dreams,” Drake answered, and Loretta’s green eyes shone.

“What…” Loretta cleared her throat. “What kind of…dreams?”

“A guy. Talking to another guy. I can’t understand most of what they’re saying, ‘cause it’s in a different language. But they always look right at me, and I, like, hear what one of them is thinking, ‘cause I always hear, ‘He’s not strong enough yet,’ but neither of them opened their mouths.” Loretta swallowed, and Drake continued, “And they’re wearing cloaks that hide their bodies and faces. But once, one of them had his back turned to me, and his hood was down. He has this tattoo on his neck. Kind of like this.” He then reached into his bag that he had put next to him and pulled out a sketchbook. He flipped passed a few pages and stopped at one with a big design in the middle of the page. It was a pentacle, the star a light blue and the circle shaded in a forest green.  In the middle of it was the word Fortis.

Seeing the symbol, Loretta clasped her hand to the back of her neck. “W-w-what colour cloaks were they wearing?” she asked.

“Uh, red, I think. Yeah. Ruby red.” Drake nodded, looking puzzled at his drawing. Loretta paled, closing her eyes and breathing heavily. “This can’t be happening. Not again,” she gasped quietly. No one’s going to die this time, she repeated over and over to herself.

“Weird, right?” Drake asked, putting the book away.

“Yeah,” Loretta agreed. “Weird.

“What do you think it means?” Drake asked, looking pensive.

“No clue,” Loretta replied, trying not to hyperventilate. “Be right back,” she added, standing up quickly and walking away. “Not him. Not now. Not ready. Can’t be. Why? Is it?” she asked herself, pacing and catching her breath.

“You okay?” Drake called over, still sitting.

“Yeah,” Loretta replied, coming back and sitting down. “Had biology this morning. Nasty stuff. The frog had one foul smell.” She wrinkled her nose to make her point.

“Ew. Yeah. I get it.” Drake wrinkled his nose, too.

“So can you describe either of these guys for me?” Loretta asked, picking her notebook and pen back up and onto her lap, ready to take notes.

“Uh, the guy with the tattoo had black hair. Looked dyed. It was long, like, down to here,” Drake explained, gesturing to his the middle of his shoulders. “It was ponytailed.”

Loretta took notes of his appearance, the guy sounding vaguely like someone she knew. “Okay then,” she said. “Just wondering, but how do you know this isn’t a regular means-nothing dream?” she asked, trying not to sound too interested.

“I dunno. Just felt weird. When I woke up, I spoke the language. I meant to say ‘Well, that was odd,’ but instead, the other language came out.”

“Huh,” was all Loretta said.

The End

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