The fire had burned down to embers, casting the room in a soft, flickering glow that seemed to hold its breath. Shadows danced on the stone walls, stretching and shrinking with each pulse of the dying light. The silence was heavy, thick with the remnants of Kaelen's scream, with the fear that lingered in the corners of the room.
I sat on the edge of his bed, my back against the headboard, my legs drawn up beneath me. Kaelen lay beside me, his head in my lap, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of the nightmare. His breathing was slow and deliberate, as if he were forcing himself to stay calm, to stay present, to not slip back into the darkness that had claimed him.
I did not speak. There were no words for what he had seen, for what he had dreamt, or for the terror that still gripped him. I simply sat, my fingers threading through his dark hair, my touch light and soothing.
