His slugish stride reached the mansion's doors, and a feeling of oppression crashed down as if it was something he shouldn't come close to, something he was prohibited from ever associating himself with.
Shaky hands pushed the door inward with ease, cracks starting to spread beneath each step of his, almost like destruction itself was brought alongside him.
Zephyr grimaced at the sight in front of him. Staff, which was supposed to work on cleaning or ensuring the mansion was safe, lay scattered across the stained marble floor. A sea of blood flowed through their mangled limbs, painting everything in a sticky crimson.
Is it already ending?
He wasn't disheartened at the fact; on the contrary, he was glad that this dream was ending quicker than usual.
The man stood at the entrance, his weary gaze taking in the sight, a sharp, piercing pain appearing on his side.
Looking down, a red spear was stuck between his ribs; the pain wasn't as bad as the shards of glass that still stuck to his feet. Instead of snapping, its body dissolved the moment Zephyr tried to pull it out.
It splashed over his clothes, staining them with a gooey mass that started to wrap around his limbs, like chains; its shape warped, lines drawing themselves across the ruby structure, which clanked at any movement. Four blood shackles materialized on his limbs, chaining him down.
"Well, well, well." An almost gloating voice came from the blood.
The dead stood up, or tried to, with their limbs scattered all over the entrance. Head's, hand's and even leg's started to rise by themself, the blood gathering in front of Zephyr like a current, a body started to form.
A silhouette of someone whose face I couldn't make out due to how disfigured it looked. It didn't seem to matter to the old man who ignorantly pulled on the chain.
"Don't run from me now..." He scoffed at the sight. "It's not going to work even after you kill me."
His bloody eyes locked with Zephyr's, and a chill from the man reached his spine.
"Where is he?" His words were cold, a spear of blood materializing in his already formed hand.
Zephyr didn't react, trying to break away the chains-
"Look at me when I'm talking to you... You bastard." His teeth seemed to clench, his shoulder snapped loudly, sending the spear inside Zephyr.
Upon taking another hit, the man calmed down at last; his attempts at trying to break free were halted. The blood within him squirmed, like a living organism, and it started to burrow deeper into his veins.
His impatient, colorless eyes gave off a disinterested glance.
"Let me through."
As the words resonated between them, the shackles snapped with surprising ease. Blood returned to the dead bodies, while the blood figure started to ripple.
An expression of disbelief was placed on its already melting face.
"Y-you!" Its voice is contorting by the second. "How are you alive! Did you really betray us for something as petty as-" The voice was cut off with a single swing.
A sigh of relief came from behind the figure, which was cut in half by a sword.
"I hope I'm not too late." The man spoke out of breath, sweat dripping down his temples.
With a stride, he stood next to Zephyr, who looked down at where the blood was. The figure was nowhere to be seen.
Swordsmen's eyes shifted down, a look of understanding appearing on his charming face, a smile that washed away all the pain that came from being pierced.
"Sorry... Did I interrupt you?"
"It's fine." Zephyr brushed it off while wiping the blood from the crate.
"You made a proper choice."
"Oh, really?. Flustered by his words, he gently brushed away his silky hair and leaned closer to Zephyr.
"I noticed that you also cut your hair, it suits you-"
"Don't push your luck."
His smile hung on his face before his stiff, tall frame turned away from the man. Tall stairs stood behind the sea of corpses; a lone door towered over them.
This is it.
Zephyr's voice echoed inside his head.
This was the place where it all ended. A door that led out of this dream, a destination that those people wanted to reach no matter the cost.
A tinge of regret tugged at the corners of his heart. It seemed that the man didn't want to part with him either. Though their meeting was short, it was the handsome boy whom he tried to follow in his life.
He seemed like someone who never betrayed others, a person who lived a happy life and died without regrets. There was no chance that it was just because he wanted to look as good as him in the future.
"Say." The young man spoke to Zephyr as they ascended the stairs.
"Do you really think it will work?"
"..." He stayed silent, not a word leaving his dry lips until-
"I'm not sure." The man froze upon hearing those words come out without any change in his expression.
"Not... Sure?" Uncertain of what he heard, he repeated the answer which rolled on his tongue with a sour aftertaste.
A soft chuckle came from his shaky frame. "Not sure, you say?"
Exhaling, he took another step up. His pace matched once more with Zephyr.
"I expected you to say that."
"Really?" No change appeared on his wrinkled face except for the brows rising weakly.
"If I hadn't, your head might have been the one lying in front of the mansion." He jokingly added.
He hummed under his breath.
After a pause, he mumbled.
"Thank you."
The young man closed his eyes as something cut through the air.
A glint of light flashed across the stairs, and the air parted at Zephyr's side. He closed his eyes, not wanting to look at the sight.
With a thud, something rolled down the stairs. The man fell on his knees, and blood sprayed down the stainless steps, leaving a messy trail.
"I'll make sure to keep my promise."
Following those words, a light lit on the edge of the blade. The sword that he cut his head off with had a pair of glowing symbols crawling along its surface.
They slithered down the handle, which started to turn to ash, they jumped on his hand like a living being, etching themself over his palm.
Glowing runes scattered, leaving a generously big burn mark on his arm. It spread from his palm up to his shoulder, a symbol of an eye that closed itself off from the outside world.
Each edge of his body felt relaxed; the calm washing over his body was better than the pain of shattered glass or pierced guts.
Confirming that everything had been set in place, Zephyr, placing a box on the steps, reached toward the door with his burned hand. The mark deepened, its surface becoming as dark as ink.
Wait...
Something doesn't add up.
Where were the others? The dream never changed for the past few years of his life. It was a routine.
He goes to sleep once a week, a deep dream appears in which he possesses someone's body, and then dies tragically at the hand of a sapphire king.
However, now they had finally reached the staircase, and the symbol grew bigger than before.
It... changes?
Before he could figure out that something went wrong, the eye symbol on his arm opened.
A giant pupil locked eyes with him, its color unidentifiable.
Everything started to flash with different colors, shapes of the mansion were changing from walls to mountains, the sun blinked, changing between the moon.
The door cracked open as a gust of wind pushed out.
Looking at everything that happened, a feeling of two hands being pressed on his shoulders spread through his entire being. His body shook with fear of the hands being someone he knew, no. He already figured out who their owner was, but he didn't want to accept it; he couldn't. It was just a dream, it was absurd-
"Wake up."