For him, it felt like he was watching a movie being acted out before him. But at the same time, he was also in the movie! The experience was like being sedated, and being asked to walk through a swamp.
It was bizarre. Especially for a first time dreamer.
That was only the first bizarre part. When Alex finally opened his eyes early the next morning, he could not remember a single scene from his six hours of sleep filled dreams!! This was exceedingly weird. For the first three hundred seconds that followed after he woke up, he simply laid there like a log of wood, staring at the ceiling, struggling to recall memories that felt like they were not his, but were his at the same time!
It was annoying.
It was very annoying. He knew he dreamt that night. He could feel it at the edge of his consciousness, almost at his fingertips, and yet- evasively out of reach! The god of sex could not understand. Had his own mind turned against him? He, (more than anyone) knew that dreams and gods, were mutually exclusive to each other. He should not be able to dream. Not only that, but he could not also seem to recall his dreams. And to crown it all, for some odd reason, he could not help but feel like there was some significance to his dream.
For the sex god whose sleep was always dreamless, he was caught between a loop of frustration and ignorance. That hopelessness guided his internal compass to an even more obscene explanation;
"It probably has something to do with the fact that I'm currently a demigod..." He mumbled to himself as he sat up groggily. "I need to learn how to thread this waters lightly. But then it's not like there's a manual somewhere on how to managed your godhood with your humanity!"
He chuckled to himself as some idea struck him;
"Hey, maybe I should write a book on this!!"
He grinned with satisfaction and pride as he began to lay it all out in his head.
"I could assume the persona of a creative writer, and script it in the form of a piece of literary fiction! Who knows, it might come in handy for future gods who might be banished to this realm. That's right, a manual to humanity; a god's perspective. That would definitely sell, oh yeah..."
Alex checked himself before he could get ahead of his own priorities. He really was tapping into his human side with every passing day. He willed himself to focus, and his thoughts gravitated towards the next domino in his plan- contacting Scarlett.
Thankfully, he had her card.
All through that day, Alex tried repeatedly to get in contact with the girl, but all attempts proved futile. He simply could not tell what the issue was. Each time he called, it kept straight to voicemail. He sent texts in the most charming tones, hoping she would get them and reach out, but unfortunately, that did not happen either. Feeling like a thirsty teenager mooning over some girl, Alex decided to abandon the mission.
He had done what he could. The ball was in her court but she simply refused to play. Alex began to feel like she was not even in the game anymore, and that was really bothersome.
He left her alone.
A few days later, after waiting for an excruciating ninety six hours, the 'D-day' finally came. As Alex slapped on his best, prepared to outclass and outbid all the other buyers, he ruminated on just how much he had changed. In the old days, he would have swooped down on the showroom, and snatched the Cursed Blade without any regards to the consequence or thoughts about decorum.
But here he was, putting on a ridiculously overpriced swanky suit, a six figure wristwatch and and a pair of eye catchy designer boots. One only needed to take one look at him to know that his outfit was fiercely expensive. That was exactly what he wanted. He could always count on humanity's weakness for the appearance.
He played on that weakness to the core.
When he arrived at the auction venue, all eyes turned towards the young dashing stranger in fascination. From the moment he hopped out of his hot blue automobile, with his shades on, and his stride focused, admiring eyes dogged him every step of the way. But none of theat mattered. If he had not been a god, he might have easily gotten distracted. He originally had his sights set on two rare artifacts, one B-class human and one blade.
But he was willing to settle for one.
At least that was his conclusion until his eyes fell on the ravishing beauty that was Scarlett. In a world of black and white, she stood out like a rainbow. Everyone else around her looked beige in comparison with her. Alex found himself wondering what exactly happened that day. But of course he did not ask, that would be considered intrusive, not to mention borderline mad. If she wanted him to know, she would tell him.
Alex decided to engage.
As he walked towards her, he took in the sight greedily. Scarett was standing at the entrace with a wireless ear piece in her ear, and on her left hand, balanced perfectly was a ten inched tablet. She had on a gorgeous olive green dress that flattered her eyes, and her long lush hair was tighted behind her in a pony tail. She looked professional, in charge and alert. Scarlett was in her element.
As he made his way towards her like a big bad wolf walking through a field of crows, it did not take long before their eyes met. But Alex was met with a shocker. Much to his surprise, she was not all over him as he had expected! She held his gaze for two brief seconds, and simply nodded curtly, acknowledging him as someone familiar and gestured towards the hallway behind her that was the venue.
The silence was loud. If anything, he was now convinced that something had happened. Her sudden offish attitude was proof that if she had wanted to let him know what happened, she would have told him already. Clearly, she did not want to talk about it, or maybe she just could not tell him in public. As Alex walked towards his seat, he recalled a very familiar saying he had picked up during his time here on earth-
'A woman's heart is a well of secrets.'
That could not have been any more true than in this case. Alex fought to keep himself from turning back to steal a glance. It was difficult not to wonder just what kind of secrets were buried in that pretty little head of hers. He remembered the very funny character in the black coat from that night, and wondered if he had anything to do with her sudden coldness. He was willing to bet a hundred large that that was the case here.
But all those thoughts melted away the moment he saw the artifact on display.
The Cursed Blade stood on the far end of the line up, away from the others, standing out with its ridiculously foul energy, and charging the air with an ominous vibe. That was the kick Alex needed. Automatically, his entire mental energy was redirected towards the original goal. His mind was now back in line, having been once again reminded of the reason he was here in the first place.
The Cursed Blade was the primary object of his desire, not some exotic woman. But a leopard could not change its spots even if it wanted. Alex was still determined to have her, and he made a mental note to find out what happened to her- later of course.
He relaxed in his seat, way out in the back where he could observe the whole action, and waited for the show to start. He did not need to wait long. During the brief period of his waiting, a sharp looking usher walked towards him with a silver tray. Thinking it was food or something, Alex was about to dismiss him when he saw that it was his placard, with his desginated number thirteen boldly printed in black on the white background. He could not help but see the irony of it.