When we finally stop deep kissing, I sit back on the bed watching the ceiling where Amixantra's heralds are depicted. It's my favorite decoration in her room. Amixantra's fair maiden heralds is a favorite theme for artists of this era. Black and white maidens delicately nude with iridescent butterfly wings are swarming around and bringing joyful messages.

  “These two are us, do you remember?” I point at two maidens who are sitting on a thin apple tree branch that is blossoming with white flowers. They are giggling and hugging each other. It has been our little private joke since the moment I was let into her chamber and her heart.

  She suddenly touches my shoulder, sitting by my side, “You said it as if we haven’t seen each other for years. I fear for you." She's softly kissing my cheek.

  “I'm so sorry, Malva. I can't get over this damn dream. It was a real nightmare. Let us just, uhmmm, have fun maybeee. Hehehe. Your pleased moans are better than any magic potion,” I am trying to sit her on my laps, but she mildly refuses.

  “It won't solve the problem, witch. Tell me about your dream, and you'll surely feel better! You’ll feel yourself again.”

  Witch...

 “I always thought it was a bad luck to tell anyone what were in nightmares.” I rub the back of my head absentmindedly. I was sure one of my fortune teller group mates told us something like that, unfortunately, I was kinda half-listening her, never being fully interested in the mysterious part of magic, though I trust educated necromancers who are almost always right. “I’m not sure I want to tell you, I mean, I’m not ready...”

  “Was it another woman?” she smiles, but her smile fades when I shyly look at her.

  “In my defense, I can say that you died in my dream,” I give a very nervous chuckle, covering her hand with mine.

  Died...

   “In my dream I met Svartalf. A bastard. She worked in a tavern.”

  “Did you sleep with her?” she asks in all seriousness.

  “Well, not with her... with an engaged blonde village girl,” I can’t hold back my laugh, because everything I have just said feels ridiculous. If she really died, I'd die too. It’s hard to imagine my life without her, besides, I'd never sleep with anyone but Malva. Consequently, it was a dream, ridiculously eerie dream.

  Malva doesn't seem interested in a blonde woman, “Tell me about Svartalf. What do you know about her?” She's frowning, her face is unusually serious.

  “Take it easy, love,” I tenderly touch her cheek. “It was just a dream. There's no dark elfia. She's not real. I don't even know her name. The dream was terrible; I don't want to talk about it,” I say shyly and tiredly.

  “You need to tell me who she is! Tell me, Eden.” She's not kind anymore. Her blue eyes seem dark and piercing.

  “Malva, I'm so sorry, but I don't really know! I swear. Don't be angry with me, love, please!” I want to kiss her, but I notice something in the left corner of her soft pink mouth. “Malva... is it blood?” I shudder. A thick ribbon of blood unhurriedly flows from her mouth down to her pointy chin. Soon it will be much more blood like it was last time.

  “Tell me who Svartalf is! What do you know about her, witch!?” Malva screams at me. She doesn't seem to notice the blood.

  Witch...

  “Witch! Wake up, please, wake up, dear witch! Don't leave me here all alone! I need you,” I hear someone crying and calling me.

 Malva smiles again. Morning has come. There is no blood on her face, “You are right, you should not tell me anything about this nightmare. I will call Rimma, she will serve us substantial breakfast. I’m hungry as a hunter after our night exercises. You exhausted me, love. Love?” She speaks as if nothing has happened, straightening and fixing her white, slightly disheveled curls.

 I kiss her desperately on the lips, squeezing her frail forearms with all my might. 

“You can't call anyone, Malva. Because you died... you've been dead for a long time,” I say breathlessly, pressing my forehead against her warm brow. My face wrinkles into a grimace of grief. “I should have died in your place ten torturously long years ago.”