Something felt completely wrong.
And for some unfathomable or a foreshadowing instance, his mother's prophecy suddenly popped up in his head.
He did not want to cave in such stupid clairvoyance.
He knew about Madam Lumen's reputation, but had never witnessed it himself, so he was still doubtful.
He tried going back to sleep, but he could not help the images bouncing back and forth inside of him. In the end, he had beholden the morning sunrise, hence it was time for his labor.
He ate a quick breakfast before the children woke up and immediately went to the morning routine exercise after kissing his wife goodbye.
He tried avoiding the children and let the day pass until it was finally evening once again.
That night, he had another strange dream.
He was standing in the middle of a tawny sandy desert. The horizon stretched unendingly along with the mirroring dark sky above.
The breeze was slightly cold and refreshing.
Before him was a giant sandcastle with an abnormally large black dahlia flower on top of it, almost reaching the silver moon.
Muren watched as the giant sandcastle slowly dissolved and crumbled, revealing a child inside of it.
Toren appeared in front of him once again while the black dahlia flower remained on top, floating and almost – symbolizing.
Toren was standing before him, staring silently with dull and bloodshot eyes devoid of any warmth or humane features, it felt chilling. Muren had never felt so intimidated before.
He was not too frightened of the colonizers and the oppressors. He felt more disgusted with the government he now glimpses with contempt after the forsaking.
This child in front of him though was the scariest he had ever encountered all his life.
Muren tried rationalizing that Toren holds no threat nor danger with him and it would be unreasonable to feel scared.
But the idea got rejected as if something ominous, something looming had taken hold of his brain, controlling his thoughts and feelings.
Toren took one step forward.
Muren wanted to flee or fall somewhere else, but his feet were frozen down the sands. Almost as if his feet had grown roots underneath the desert land.
His heartbeat was thumping like crazy until it peaked before explosion.
That was exactly when Muren had woken up wide-eyed and sweaty all around.
After that night, he could not stand the sight of Toren any longer.
He avoided them for a while, hoping his weird emotions might cool down afterwards. However, it only got worse as the nights slowly went by.
Each night, Muren had endured witnessing strange ominous dreams relating to Toren wherein he had no control over and waking up bothered and unsettled and annoyed pondering about the prophecy.
The weeks that passed with such unbearable nights which caused him anxiety and insomnia led to unpleasant psychological results.
Airen noticed his weird and hinged behavior pattern, so she went to him every time to calm him down.
She would caress him until he was comfortable, whispering sweet words to him, and kiss him tenderly.
However, even the wife's charms had turned duller to Muren as if he had built immunity from it.
The hellish unexplainable circumstances drew a thick line that would soon trap him onto the side of the revolt.
He was unsure if he had just woken up to reality from a tempting and glittery dream or if he decided to finally abandon his comfort, but one thing was quite certain. Nothing mattered much to him right now than accomplishing what he started.
And during the same days and harsh hours, Muren developed an unpleasant hostility against his second child, Toren.
If the prophecy turned out to be legitimate, he thought, the traitor would definitely be no one but Toren – the adopted child that came out of nowhere.