Page 1 of Dreaming of an Omega Christmas
Chapter One
Falkanar
It was five in the morning and I was surprised I hadn't worn a hole in the floor of the hotel carpet, from pacing back and forth across my room all night. I was too anxious to sleep. For the first couple of hours, just moving around had relieved the itch, but now, hours later, I wondered if maybe I would have been better off trying to get a little bit of sleep. I was exhausted but felt like I couldn't slow down. My head was pounding, and my stomach felt sore and cramped, as if I was starving, but I wasn't. I wanted to be sick but couldn't.
I looked out the window, still caked with snow from the driving blizzard, and could swear that my headache intensified for a moment. I spun away and paced back toward the door. My bag lay on my bed, fully packed, and waiting. Next to it was a handful of change that would take me somewhere; I didn't care where, I just needed to go.Hadto go.
The blizzard changed course unexpectedly and struck the town where I was staying and harder than anyone expected. I was already starting to feel the itch to move on when the blizzard struck and now, after being trapped here for almost a week, I was quite literally going out of my mind. I couldn't stay in one place for this long; the curse made sure of that.
I paced back across the room, glancing at the TV as I did, hoping that there was something else on to hold my attention for a few minutes and take my mind off how crappy I was feeling. It was a commercial for some ski resort. As the camera panned over the picturesque town it reminded me of Vale Valley and, in spite of my discomfort, I smiled.
Like all wandering elves, I was happiest when I was wandering aimlessly without a set destination. Nevertheless, I found that my path took me to Vale Valley quite frequently, almost as if the magical town wanted me to call it home. Unfortunately, that was impossible. Even after traveling the world and seeing countless places, Vale Valley was always the one that, for a few days, almost felt like home.
The town was full of magical creatures of all types. There were dozens of different kinds of shifters, everything from wolves to swans. There were mermaids, and witches, and even a couple of wood elves I had befriended.
Rumor says that, for a time, the son of the Fae King lived there too. I hadn't encountered him, and I was glad for it. My people were wood elves once, long ago. Then the leader of a troop insulted the King of the Fae. In return, the elf and everyone loyal to him had been cursed: changed into wandering elves. Doomed to spend our lives moving aimlessly from place to place, physically unable to settle down for more than a couple of weeks at a time. Not without ending up like I was now.
They say that wandering elves have died in the past from being stuck in one place for too long. I didn't personally know any, not that I knew many others to begin with. But it wasn't something I was eager to test. Luckily, the snow was clearing up and I was confident that anytime now I'd be able to get out of wherever I was stuck.
I turned away from the TV, trying to hold on to the image of Vale Valley, and returned the window. My heart leapt with joy, the light at the bus station across the street had turned on. I could see someone through the window, bustling around and getting things ready.
The bus station was open.
I could go.
I didn't care when the next bus was or where it was going. I just had to be on it. I grabbed my bag, my handful of cash, and pounded out the door. I quickly checked out, with a dismissive shrug as the lobby clerk inquired as to why I was leaving so early and where I was going.
“Doesn't matter,” I mumbled. I thrust the room key at him and all but raced across the lobby.
A blast of icy air hit my face the moment I left the hotel. But something about it was fresh, invigorating. I was on the move. And whatever force inside of me demanded I keep going realized it. I crossed the street quickly and entered the bus stop, just as the attendant was starting the coffeemaker.
“Oh,” he said in surprise, turning. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” I said. “When does the next bus leave?”
“Where are you going?” he asked.
I shrugged casually. “Wherever the next bus is heading.”
“Getting out of town fast?” he asked. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I'm not going to find your face on a wanted poster, am I?” He straightened in a manner that suggested he knew how to take care of himself, in case I was some sort of threat.
I shifted my bag to one shoulder and held up my free hand innocently. “No, sir. I'm just…” I certainly couldn't explain that I was a wandering elf to a human. “I’m a few days late getting out of here,” I said, truthfully. “Thanks to that blizzard.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I hear you. That was a whopper. Well, next bus should be here in about an hour. And it’s bound for New York City.”
“One ticket then,” I said agreeably, feeling another surge of satisfaction.
I did my best not to pace for the hour that it took for the bus to arrive, and instead kept myself awake by draining his entire pot of coffee. I apologized, but he refilled it looking more amused than anything else. Even though I was about to be on the move my discomfort had only stopped getting worse, not vanished. And I knew it wouldn't be gone until I was well out of town.
The bus came and I hopped on board, even though the driver was getting some coffee and taking a quick break. I could have cheered when the driver returned and pulled the bus away from the station.
The heat wasn't working, so the bus was as cold as ice. The seat was lumpy, and something smelled foul. And yet the bus ride felt like absolute heaven. By the time we were a couple of hours out of town, my headache had completely receded for the first time in several days. My stomach was tight from actual hunger, not horrible, painful cramping of the need to move on. I found myself smiling more often than not, as I watched the scenery fly by. It felt great to be on the move again. And yet I always found myself wishing that, just this once, I was goinghome,and not on to my next unknown destination. But such was the life of a wandering elf.
As I found as I got comfortable, I found a $50 bill wedged in between the seats and stuck it in my pocket, with a dark chuckle. The King of the Fae knew what he was doing when he cast the curse. It seemed that he didn't want us to suffer, so much as atone for what my ancestor had done. And so, the nature of the curse made sure that we were all taken care of. Like all wandering elves, I had a knack for stumbling across shelter, and money, and food and other necessities. Often just before I realized that I needed it. I had learned to follow my gut and let the universe, or maybe the distant hand of the Fae King, guide me, and thus far it had never steered me wrong.
I was just starting to wish I had eaten something, when the bus driver told us we'd be stopping for a few minutes to refuel, and so that he could have a late breakfast. We were welcome to wander the bus station and get some food for ourselves. I did just that, feeling light as a feather. Once I was full, I hopped back on the bus and watched as we rolled through a town that reminded me somewhat Vale Valley.
I shook my head ruefully as I thought of myself favorite little place on earth again. The holidays were here, and I probably spent more Christmases there than I ever had anywhere else. The residents always made me feel welcome and the decorations and the celebrations were homey. Sometimes I fantasized that the reason I kept ending up in Vale Valley was because the wandering elf I was destined to be with was there. Of course, that elf wouldn't actually live there. Not a wandering one. That was impossible. We rarely crossed paths and never managed to stay in contact with each other easily. Another facet of the curse, of course. And just to make things difficult, finding that one special wandering elf was theonlyway to break it.
