Night that Chose the Misty Road
As usual, the twittering of birds outside my window served as my morning wake-up call. My eyelids felt heavy as I forced them open. Squinting at the bright screen of my mobile told me that it was still 5:38, which explained the quasi-dark skies outside.
However, I also knew that trying to fall back asleep was a futile effort. Not with the darkness that loomed in the corner of my eye.
One blink and the shadows melted out of my vision.
The naïve part of me had believed, hoped, that the nightmares and the visions would go away once I started a new life on a different continent. Suffice to say, the nightmares had not gotten any better. If anything, the frequency of nightmares increased.
Sighing, I flung my legs over the edge of the bed, and stretched out my arms lightly over my head. My muscles were tense, as per usual after a nightmare.
Since the canteen was not open until seven, I decided I could get a head start on homework that was due at the end of the week. My ancient notebook took forever to boot so I had some time to play a quick game on my mobile. I opened up the site for submitting math homework and got to work.
~
My eyes snapped open to the sound of rustling leaves.
My heart drumming in my ears, I jumped to my feet. This looked nothing like my dorm room nor the vicinity of my school. For one, my school was located a couple minutes off the highway. It was nowhere near a lush forest like the one that stretched out before my eyes.
It smelled like wet soil, as if it was about to rain. Crap. The last thing I needed was to be rained on in this foreign land. There was no shelter nearby so I picked a random direction and started running.
First mistake.
My left foot sank right into the grassy floor in front of me and a chasm opened up to swallow me whole. A scream escaped my throat but even that sound was buried in the chasm.
I seemed to be falling for ages. The sensation of being weightless was interesting and horrifying at the same time. The longer I kept falling, the more I was bound to hurt when I landed eventually.
Something bizarre happened when I ‘landed’. My bum hit an invisible cushion of sorts and bounced a few times before I managed to land on my feet on solid ground. Glancing behind me, I was only able to see the vast nothingness that I had fallen through.
“What in the world?” I muttered to myself.
The dark corridor in front of me intimidated me but I had no other way to go. I took a deep breath and stepped forwards.
Immediately, the corridor lit up with twinkling lanterns. Violet-blue flames burned bright in the lanterns as I walked by. The flames blew out the moment I walked past them. As if by magic.
“No way.” I denied. “This is the real world, not a game nor a novel. Magic is not real.”
I must have been walking for minutes before I was led into a spacious room. The room was filled with trinkets and trays full for food and beverages.
The scene that was playing out in front of my eyes was vaguely familiar, lost in the foggy depths of my memories.
Shrugging off the sense of unease and that someone, or something, was observing me, I carefully approached the small feast presented before me. The food smelled super delicious now that I was closer. I hadn't realised how ravenous I was up until that moment.
I dipped my finger into the whipped cream topping of the blueberry cake. It felt like normal whipping cream. I lifted my finger to my nose and sniffed it. Smelt like it, too. I lapped it up cautiously. Its sweet, creamy taste spread across my tongue.
“Yummy!” I exclaimed, forgetting where I was for a second.
I took that fork that had been set prettily with a matching knife atop an embroidered napkin and dug into the cake. The layers were stuffed with blueberries and fluffy cream and it was better than any cake I had tasted before. There was a pitcher and sculpted goblet of what seemed like berry juice. I took a swig of the drink without much thought. I almost spewed out the liquid immediately when I realised that it was wine, not some juice.
“Shit,” I sputtered. I hadn't drunk alcohol before. It was bitter and plain awful. Why do grown-ups choose to drink this stuff?
Unfortunately for me, there was no water or any other beverage to help me there. I dropped the fork and decided I should get out. Delectable food aside, I was still in unseeable danger. For I knew, this was a trap to let my guard down.
“Focus, Ritsuka,” I whispered to myself. “This is exactly how characters in horror flicks get eaten alive. Or slaughtered.”
The steely blue walls were void of any visible doors. I tried knocking on the walls to see if any secret door would swing open. I had no such luck. It looked like my only option was to step back out to the corridor.
When I got back into the corridor, something seemed off. Were the flames that shade of blue or had they turned more green? The flames illuminating the hallway appeared to be more of teal now.
“Whatever. This is clearly not a place where regular rules apply,” I mumbled.
A sudden urge and curiosity washed over me. I tiptoed over to one of the lanterns and touched the glass casing. I was expecting to recoil from the heat but instead, the glass felt cold to the touch. Almost as cold as ice. . . .
For a fraction of a second, I wanted to break open to the lantern and touch the flame itself. How bizarre.
“What am I even thinking?” I scolded myself. Perhaps being in this place was making me go mad.
The corridor did not lead me to the place I woke up. Instead, the walls turned into a rocky texture and soon, I found myself in the mouth of a cavern.
Outside the cavern was an ocean. The clear turquoise waters beckoned me and the pale, glittering sands seemed warm and welcoming. I glanced down and instead of my usual attire of the school uniform, I was wearing nothing but skin-tight swimming shorts. Calling them shorts was being generous since the hem of the shorts barely came down past my bum.
I tried to cover up with my hands but that was a wasted effort. I gave up on modesty quickly enough and waded into the waters. The ocean was surprisingly cold, raising gooseflesh on my legs.
It was obvious that I was dreaming but why was I dreaming of this world? I had never been to a tropical beach like this one. Sure, I had seen films that depicted them but didn't people dream of only faces and places they had seen in real life?
My thoughts were interrupted when a huge wave crashed over me, dousing me with saltwater that ended up seeping into my mouth. My eyes stung so I squeezed them tight, rubbing at them.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself in a brand new scene all over again.
This time, I was in the middle of a forest, surrounded by tall trees and gentle cries of animals. This was different from where I awoke. The trees were darker in colour and had leaves the colour of spun gold and shiny silver. I really had to applaud myself for my creativity for this one.
The trees grew more gnarled and somehow curled as I trudged deeper into the unknown. At times, I felt as though someone was watching from the treetops. The back of my nape tingled with that sensation until I reached a clearing.
The earthen floor seemed out of place with a luxurious table standing on top of it. The table was a carved masterpiece consisting of darkwood, gold, and marble. Unusual combination, but the sheer audacity and extravagant design more than made up for it.
At each end sat two men. One was dressed in a gown that took after Roman tunic except it showed way more skin. Gold and amethyst sparked in the misty sunlight on the man’s neck and chest, as well as several of his fingers and wrists. His golden hair was also adorned with jewels like amethysts, sapphires, and emeralds, and what looked like silver. Something like a turban (but with the top exposed?) and veil cascaded down his nape. His sunset-red eyes seemed to stare right into my soul. He had a regal aura about him.
The other man had rich, tanned skin and dark hair. Dressed in golden armour and white cape that also bared most of his torso, he looked every bit as regal as the blonde. His accessories leaned more towards blues and blacks, not that the gems would have cost any less. His golden eyes were also fixated upon me, lips curled upwards as if watching something entertaining.
In the middle of the table sat the third man. His hair was more of a pale gold and his eyes a kind shade of blue-green. He was dressed in a white tuxedo, complete with sky blue shirt and royal blue bowtie. While he lacked the kingly aura, I still knew that he was a third king.
“Stop trying to intimidate our guest with the stare-down,” the third king called out. “You two go overboard with that.”
“I have no regards for how a mongrel feels,” the goldie sneered. His red eyes glowed, warning me of incoming peril. “It is not our responsibility that he ended up here.”
“You. How did you come here?” the tanned king asked.
“I walked,” was my honest reply.
I jumped when a loud guffaw startled me. The golden king was laughing at my response.
“How brazen of you,” he said in between bouts of laughter. “What Ozymandias meant to ask was about your method of entering this realm. Mere mortals like you do not simply come across a place betwixt reality and dreamscape.”
“Be-what?”
“What Gilgamesh here wants to say is that you are in a precarious situation. Humans cannot enter the realm between reality and dreams easily. Usually, the visitors have a strong tie to the Underworld, in simple terms, death.”
“Or a powerful warlock like Merlin. You, King of Knights, should be familiar with that.” the one called Gilgamesh jeered.
King of Knights. Was that not the title of the legendary King Arthur? And Gilgamesh, there was Epic of Gilgamesh that he studied briefly in English class. Gilgamesh was the first-ever recorded hero, and was hailed as the King of Heroes.
What even was this dream?
Gilgamesh must have left his seat as I was lost in my own thoughts. He was close enough that I could smell the fragrance of scented oil and something richer wafter from him. His sunset-hued eyes continued to appraise me, as one would a piece of art or something.
“Hmm,” he breathed. His hand reached out to lift up my chin with his fingers. He turned my face this way and that before releasing me. I could feel my face burning up from the close inspection.
“A pretty face to view but a commonplace mongrel nonetheless. It’s a mystery that you arrived without dying.”
“Gilgamesh!” Arthur gasped.
I flinched away from the King of Heroes. Death? But if this was a dream, wouldn’t death simply act as a trigger for me to wake in the, well, waking world?
“Not quite,” Ozymandias rebutted, as if having heard my thoughts. “In this realm, the borders between reality and dreams are thin and blurred. Any injury that you sustain in this world may manifest in the waking world as well. I would advise that you act with caution.”
The smile that graced Ozymandias’ face was almost sweet if not for the glint of something sinister that remained in his golden irises. It didn’t occur to me before but Ozymandias was one of the many names for one of the pharaohs. If I recalled correctly, his other name would be Ramses, one that was theorised to be the pharaoh when Moses tried to leave Ancient Egypt.
“I think I will take my leave now,” Arthur Pendragon broke through the brief silence. He picked up a white tophat adorned with blue ribbon and lace. “It is in my best interest to guide this boy to a safer place. Better yet, figure out how to safely deliver him back to his own world.”
The oldest hero of mankind waved his hand dismissively. “And here I thought we could entertain ourselves with the arrival of this mongrel. Why go through all the travel of moving and such when we’ve a much simpler solution?”
I took a step back unconsciously when Gilgamesh arose from his seat. He approached the same way that a predator stalks its prey, his red eyes glimmering with something that my instincts identified as DANGER!
Before I could make up my mind to run away, the golden king had me in his grasp. The ivory gold and deep violet cape-ish thing fell from his shoulders as he took my face in his hands again. He muttered something in an ancient tongue that I did not recognise.
And then he kissed me.
~
I was jolted awake. The screen of my laptop had long gone black and I had to wipe the drool from my chin.
The sudden kiss was more than enough to shoot me back to my reality. Even though it had been a dream, the sensation of warm, tender lips was vivid on my own lips.
I slapped my cheeks. “Snap out of it! You just had a weird dream, that is all!”
Thankfully (?) I had dreamt well past eight, meaning I had roughly twelve minutes to run to the canteen and buy something to eat as breakfast in my first class.
~
“That was a rather rude wake-up call,” Arthur pointed out.
He was twirling his hat around on his fingertip. A nervous habit of sorts, Ozymandias noted. The renowned King of Knights never seemed to be comfortable around the King of Heroes. He was less tense and alert when around the Sun King alone.
Gilgamesh snorted out a laughter. “He was a mere mortal, a rootless mongrel at that. I’ve no regard for his kind. He wanted a way out of this realm and I provided him one. You loathe to admit it but it was one of the nicer ways to liberate him.”
Ozymandias had to nod in agreement. Gilgamesh was not a hero known for his, well, heroism. He was the fearless king that hunted down monsters that wreaked havoc and together with his one and only friend, Enkidu, they even slaughtered the Bull of Heaven. The ending to that tragic tale was a story for another day, though.
“I think you could have been nicer about it. Maybe it doesn’t apply to people who lived four thousand years ago but in this day and age, this concept called ‘consent’ exists. You probably traumatised the poor boy.”
“That poor boy got a taste of heaven, that’s what,” Gilgamesh grumbled. “If you hate how I do things, why do you still keep up this flimsy façade of friendship with me?”
Arthur groaned. “Because you are one of the most powerful beings in this world, that’s why. Wipe that smug grin off your face. It’s almost like you want to confirm that fact by hearing us admit it aloud.”
“You know how he is,” Ozymandias agreed. “Gotta be the god that rules above all.”
Gilgamesh rolled his eyes. “Even someone like me has a limit to how much praise I can take.”
“Is that balance unlimited?” Arthur growled under his breath.
Ozymandias burst out in laughter. “What’s got you in a foul mood? Was the tea and finger foods not to your liking?”
He picked up a scone and bit off the corner. The sweet taste spread across his tongue but it was hollow, as if lacking in substance.
“You know as well as I that everything in this world is a lacklustre imitation of things from the real world. A first-time visitor can’t tell but spirits bound to this place sure as hell can,” the fair knight sounded wistful as he said that.
“That mongrel,” Gilgamesh interjected, “I don’t think he is a human that stumbled in here by accident. He didn't seem a powerful mage nor a medium but he could have had a close call with death. Humans that nearly died are said to have a strong connection to the afterlife.”
Ozymandias grinned. “And this world is not so different from what humans consider to be afterlife.”
As if on cue, thick violet-and-silver haze began to swirl around the table. The haze grew more and more dense until the entire scenery was swallowed up whole and the only visible thing that remained was the inhuman glow of red, gold, and green eyes.\