His cerulean eyes gazed back with bewilderment. I recognized the questions that were written in his regal stare. What was he doing here? Why did I call him? Was this a dream?
This moment was surreal; I had finally gotten through to him. Hope and joy spread through my entire body like standing close to a hot fire on a cold day. He would save us. He would come back and save us.
After forty-two nights trying to get through, I had succeeded. We had succeeded. I could feel Calen’s strength reinforcing our connection. Without each other, none of this was possible. I was dependent on her strength, for she was an extension of my very being. Together we could mold our energies as one. For now, we had to remain physically apart, which would greatly hinder our abilities, but faint as it was, I could still feel her strength linked with mine.
All those days and endless nights of practicing finally paid off. We both were struggling, so I didn’t know how long this would last.
I had a specific directive to convey to him. It was imperative that he heeded every word, for this was our only avenue of communication. Opening my mouth, I started to tell him what he needed to know. I tried to convey a sense of urgency as I told him the plan. As I spoke, he began to slowly shake his head. When I noticed his eyebrows furrowing together and a questioning look upon his face, I realized I was speaking but no words were coming out. My mouth moved as if to speak, but I heard nothing, not a sound. I started to shout, loud and then louder, but again, not a thing could be heard. I did not understand. This was horrendous. All this work and he couldn’t hear me?
I tried to pull more power from Calen, but she was giving me all she had. It started to get painful for the both of us.
Suddenly he started to walk toward me. However, if he got too close I would lose our connection and this would be for loss. I couldn’t risk losing him now. I vigorously shook my head and put up both my hands to signal halt. He immediately stopped, and I could see him sigh. He raked his hands through his hair and looked at me. He pointed two fingers at his eyes and then closed them. Opening his eyes, he repeated the gesture two more times, then pointed to his mouth as if speaking.
Confused, I tried to understand his hand motions. What was he alluding to? Close my eyes and speak? How…? Yes! Close my eyes and speak to him through images. Was that not what dreams were, images speaking to us through our minds?
I closed my eyes and cleared my head. Ever so slowly, I let the images come to mind. I couldn’t speak words, but I could pass images onto him, giving him this message of hope, and hopefully…a sense of urgency.
A quaint town sat quietly on an eastern coast. Streets long and damp from moisture clung to the morning air. A lighthouse in white stone sat next to a small cottage with broken windowpanes, but with a well-manicured lawn, overlooking crashing waves against staggered cliffs jetting out of the ocean. Huge, beautiful trees, large oaks and a giant Weeping Willow hanging over a crisp cool pond surrounded by birches. The Weeping Willow-
I jerked back as suddenly the image snapped from my mind. Our time was running out. I had to tell him it was imperative, absolutely vital that he….
As I opened my eyes, I realized the horror.
He was gone.
I looked around, but he was nowhere in sight. As I felt a slight pain in the left side of my head I knew that I was waking up. I did not know how much he received. I hoped with all my might that the images got through to him. They had to.