The dream always started with the sound of dragging.
Zaliyah was back in the Royal Hallway of the Capital, the marble floors cold against his skin. Someone was hauling him by the arms, their grip was like iron shackles. He tried to twist around, to see the face of his captor, but the features were a swirling vortex of shadows . He tried to scream, but his voice was caught in his throat like broken glass.
Then, the sensation changed..sharp claws dug into the sensitive skin of his neck, right over the scars on his neck he already carried. The pain was unbearable. The faceless man lifted him, the ground falling away until they were suspended in the violet sky.
The man's face remained a blurry, dark void, but Zaliyah could feel the hatred radiating from him. Without a word, the shadow let go.
Zaliyah plummeted. The wind ripped the air from his lungs as the world rushed up to meet him.
"Noooooooooo!"
