That dream was different from the others.
I saw him again.
This same scene had appeared in my dreams many times before, a lone man adorned in a black, bloody trench coat stood there alone, surrounded by a muddy hellscape.
Endless Lifeless bodies strewn across the long expanse surrounded him. Rain poured down, washing the blood of men into the gaping craters that scarred the land.
The man seemed lonely, like a lone branch on a decayed tree. He stood there, feeble and helpless, as if the wind could carry him away.
His feet adorned black boots, sunk in the black mud beneath him as he faced the opposite way, his back facing my vision.
There he stood firm, yet exhaustion was evident as his legs trembled from his weight. Suddenly yet slowly, he raised his arm until his index finger pointed towards the distance, where nothing but endless mud and decay could be seen.
A moment passed, his lone fading back occupied my gaze only for a short moment, before a flash of light consumed the distance.
Loud ringing flooded my senses, getting louder as the bright light started to expand on the horizon.
It was not the only one; many followed it, other large bright lights exploded in the distance, violently tearing through this reality, destroying everything in their wake.
The ringing got louder.
The enigmatic man standing there lowered his hand, remaining unfazed from the chaos that threatened to consume him. The rain stopped, his whole body adorned in raven black stood as a defiance against the bright white light growing larger and closer on the horizon.
The ringing in my ear was almost deafening.
The man faced me. His features were swallowed by darkness—only his deep brown irises were visible. Hatred. Regret. Shame. They bore into me.
His pupils locked onto mine, defiant even as his body teetered on the edge of collapse, yet he remained standing, defiant against all odds.
The white light in the distance was almost here, and the ringing was deafaning now, overpowering any other sound that could be heard.
Finally, he opened his mouth. The moment he spoke, the world seemed to freeze, and the ringing sound ceased; the only sound that I could hear was his words. He was still staring at me, his previous emotions replaced with hopeful determination as he uttered his final words.
"They're coming."
Finally, the sky was bleached white, the man was consumed, and I, with him.
.
.
.
.
My head darts up as I gasp for breath, cold sweat dripping from my forehead lands on the desk I was sleeping on, adorned with scattered papers now partially soaked and a feather pen to the side.
The wet patch of drool on the parchment I slept on made it clear—I had ruined some of my work. Which, at this point, was a secondary thought.
I had a habit of having very lucid dreams, but this dream was different this time. Who was that man? And why was this one so vivid compared to the rest?
Wiping the sweat off my forehead, I could see my hand shaking uncontrollably. I gripped the table in front of me and slowly breathed to calm my nerves. My unexplainable dreams always caused fits of unease in me, not to mention the irregularity in this particular one.
That dream... It's so familiar, yet I can't seem to...
BANG!
Lost deep in my thoughts, I get startled by a loud banging on my front door.
"Sir Lucien, a letter from Lord Arthur. He sent me to make sure you actually read it this time."
They're persistent, aren't they?
With exhaustion and a hint of sarcasm, I offer my mental response and slowly get up from my old oak chair, turn around and scan the small wooden room to look for the door.
A two-meter-tall rotted wooden door stood at the front of the room, adorned with a rustic latch that provided more comfort than security.
Walking to the door, I notice my reflection in the mirror, and what greets me is the face of a 14-year-old boy with an accompanying stature. With jet black hair, dark brown, almost black irises and a fair complexion, I look painfully average, or so I think, but I guess in this world black hair is somewhat rare, though I can't help but feel the opposite. My appearance still left me slightly surprised, considering my age and mental maturity, though in these trying times, maybe it wasn't as uncommon as I thought.
"You have 10 seconds before I'm forced to take appropriate measures."
"Try breaking that door down, and you're going out the window."
Rubbing my eyes to take away the drowsiness I felt, I grab the brownish-grey flat cap hanging on the coat rack next to the door and nest it on my head.
What greeted me was an aged butler named Sabian, dressed in his usual black-and-white butler uniform. His silk gloves were pristine, as always, and his well-kept grey hair only added to his air of superiority. To my grief, he was one of my benefactor's most trusted assistants—and an insufferable one at that. A stickler for protocol and tradition, which I loathed.
Exuding dignified arrogance and with his discerning and critical eyes gleaming down into mine, hidden annoyance became evident from his expressionless face.
"It seems the letter yesterday did not reach your residence. May I ask if you know why?"
With an equally annoyed face, I respond in kind.
"Do we have to do this so early in the morning?"
Annoyed by my drowsiness and apparent lack of attention, Sabian passes me a pure white letter, adorned with a bright red stamp in the shape of a wolf surrounded by nine thin knives, the signature of Lord Arthur. Seeing how it hadn't been opened, it seemed the contents were purely for me to view.
Accepting the letter, I feel the crisp texture of the paper, a material that could feed a family of 4 for a month purely for its value, and place it in the pocket of my jacket.
"Read it this time, and make sure not to keep his lordship waiting. He's been gracious enough to allow someone of your social standing an opportunity. Be more grateful."
With a final scowl at me, Sabian turned around and left through the long dark-wood hallway along with two men who followed him side to side, their backs facing me. Both of the men whore bluish grey uniforms, and they each held old rifles in their hands as they escorted Sabian out of the building. Light gleamed from the windows, indicating sunrise. The sounds from outside alerted me of the early rush hour, but they were unusually loud today, as if a crowd had gathered just outside.
I absentmindedly closed my door, making sure the latches were secured and sat back down on my wooden chair, grabbing the letter. With the letter in my hand, I stare at it for a solid minute, just appreciating the value of what I hold in my hand.
Surely, those scheming Nobles of the Inner Rim would love to get their hands on this, or even just gain his favour, yet a poor orphaned boy was the one so honoured.
"If they saw what I was about to do, they'd probably petition to hang me."
With that funny thought in mind and a small smirk, I pressed my thumb down onto the stamp, ruining the perfect craftsmanship. Almost as if a trigger had been sprung, the red stamp started to dissolve into smoke until it disappeared, the smell of roses reaching my nose.
"A simple incantation, but there's probably only a dozen who could possibly crack it in this city alone."
Opening the letter slowly, I pulled out the neatly folded paper and laid it on the desk, showing that it lacked contents, and was utterly blank.
Breathing a sigh, I lamented at the cautiousness of the man who sent me such a letter and grabbed the unused letter opener.
Instead of using it for its predetermined role, I pricked my index finger to allow a very small droplet of blood to drip. Once the small droplet hit the paper, the small red stain spread across the rest of the paper at a rapid pace in a spider web pattern, until it was dyed completely in a deep red.
Once the paper had completely dyed red, the now crimson soaked paper started to slowly dissolve from the corners, but before the letter self-immolated, I muttered the word I was taught to use in this situation.
"Revelare."
Information started pouring into my head as though it wasn't a new presence, but merely something I had forgotten. Watching the blood-red piece of paper dissolve, I sat there and comprehended the new information gathered in my head. Staring blankly for a couple of seconds, a troubled expression came upon my face, but then a small smirk formed.
"He doesn't accept no for an answer, huh? Well, I guess we both have to use the cards we're dealt with to a degree, I just wish I had some more time to relax, I'm not really in a rush."
With a sigh, I leaned back in my chair onto the hind legs, stretched and breathed yet another sigh. I was too tired for the things that would come to pass, and no doubt this was the end of my long seclusion.
But despite my indignation, a small smile adorned my mouth and a final sigh escaped my lips.
"So it begins. Let's see how this plays out, shall we?"