It wasn’t that the nightmares were gone now so much as they’d begun less in a sense. They were still terrifying, even when she couldn’t call to mind the exact details or what it was that scared her so. Still they had the power to jolt her from pleasant sleep and leave her unable to return to blissful slumber. Now though they did not occur every night, occasionally she could make it through to the early hours when dawns light first broke the sky. It didn’t change the fact that she still feared closing her eyes when dusk began to fall. That tiring herself out during the day with physical activity and her brain at night by reading was the only way she could find the land of dreams. At least now though it wasn’t every night she awoke with her sheets twisted and skin sweaty and cold to the touch. Saffron hoped it was the routine and the exercise that was starting to have an effective. That or she was so exhausted on occasion that her brain simply didn’t have the juice to haunt her and merely shut down. Whatever worked, she’d take it. Besides, you know, actually working through her problems.

‘Issues’ that was what the teenagers called it in the books. Saffron didn’t really those kinds of stories but she’d come across one or two that mentioned the idea. She didn’t like that idea although she could recognise that she wasn’t quite right. But who was there left to talk to? Who could she tell about her nightmares? Who was there that would understand when she told them her secrets abut her murderess mother? It wasn’t like she was entirely friendless now. She almost dared say there were people she actually liked, even though she’d tried her hardest to shut herself off after Nimueh.... after everything. Still to actually trust those people? To tell them things she didn’t even think she could put words to? Could she even say some of those things out loud? After keeping everything bottled inside for so long? No, she didn’t know them. How could you ever know anyone really? No one was every who they said they were. It was best just to stick to the routine, stick to what was working for her.

It was in that vein that when she’d woken up in a panic with her skin clammy and her sheets sticking to her It was obviously not going to be a good morning. As usual what the nightmare had been about exactly faded rather quickly or she just didn’t want to dwell on it. Instead she got up, changed the sheets on her bed and then went and splashed cold water on her face. Saffron didn’t need to wake herself up anymore but at least it made her fell that little bit fresher. Thankfully she’d made it through the early hours of the dawn and warm sunlight was starting to stream in through her window. Stretching and trying to ignore any thoughts of her disturbed sleep she busied herself with instead getting ready for the morning. Switching quickly into her running gear before dragging a brush through her hair. Sorting the mangled mop into a more managed order before pulling it back and up into a high ponytail. There now she could show herself to the world, dark bags under her eyes and all. It was normal for teenagers not to sleep that much, anyways right?


This was the routine, what got her through the start of the day before training even began. Creeping out of the castle on the morning when everything was still quiet and there were only a few servants and other folk around beginning their chores. It was rare anyone ever bothered her as she made her way out to the grounds. Occasionally she’d run into another recruit she recognised but she was getting very good at either avoiding eye contact and shuffling past or offering a quick fake smile and continuing on her way. She just didn’t know how to start a conversation all that well, at least not with someone she barely knew and to be honest she wasn’t sure she wanted to. She had to stick to the routine. Though whereas before she hadn’t really minded where her run took her in the grounds, she now tried to include a stretch along or round Lake Lilith. Sometimes Dylan was there and he’d been nice to her. It wasn’t like she always stopped to talk to him either but there was no harm in waving if he saw her, right?

Today was no different, she started her run through the castle gardens but soon enough she was racing down the bank to the water’s edge and then alongside it. Sadly, there was no sign of... could she call him her friend? Saffron wasn’t sure but either way there was no white tiger and no Dylan swimming in the lake yet; maybe she was too late or too early today. Never mind it wasn’t like she actually wanted to see him, right?

Okay, he wasn’t there time to focus on the rest of her run. Dragging her gaze away from the surface of the water she switched her attention to where she was actually going and almost fell over. If she’d kept her eyes on the lake she may have missed them, may have continued running. Instead when she turned her head, she saw them straight on and as a result nearly tripped over her own feet as she came to a sudden stop. After everything that had happened, all the turmoil there were just some faces she wasn’t ready to see; Grayson was one of those faces. Her brother who hurt her every time he left. Every time he came back she put her smile back on and welcomed him home. Before now she was always happy to see him, thrilled someone she loved had come back to her. That feeling isn’t entirely gone. Her heart beat picks up the same way, her skin tingles but then in a moment its gone. Replaced instead by an almost empty feeling tinged by disappointment. He’s back, so he’ll just leave again, won’t he? She can’t bring herself to hurt that way again, doesn’t want to be abandoned again.

So instead she shuts down. Part of her wishes she’d kept running, hadn’t noticed them. Of course, she had and she couldn’t pretend otherwise as she stood in place staring with a lack of expression. She notices his figure, the lack of muscle, how he’s changed. She feels something, something like worry. Saffron can’t show it though, he doesn’t deserve to know she still cares because she so madly doesn’t want to care. If only she could feel nothing everything would be much easier. For a moment she just stands there catching her breath. “Your back,” it comes out emotionless not revealing how she really feels. There’s too much there to really describe it. Too difficult to put into words. She’s angry and hurt so it’s easier to pretend. Her arms cross in front of her chest and her amber eyes look her brother up and down, “so what’s the plan, feed me some empty promises then leave again? You don’t really expect me to believe you can find our mother, do you?” Her mouth had become a nasty sneer and for the first time her tone leaked the anger she was feeling, “Nimueh was more of a mother to us, than that red-haired bitch ever was, and where were you when she died huh?”