A memory flows through my mind. The place seems so real.
I feel, with my whole being, a profound connection to someone's cherished dream, someone I've never met, with almost no distance between us. Not a sliver of anxiety or regret resides within me, as someone who has fought through life with all might, shrouded as a servant of God. This feeling clings without my previous contemplation.
Suddenly, my eyes open.
The ceiling.
Bedroom.
Morning.
Just a dream.
-I see.
These past few days, I've dreamt, wandering amidst houses ruined by a great fire. Venturing to distant, unknown mountains. Dark, desolate forest plains. Engaging in real battlefields. Embarking on vast journeys to unfamiliar kingdoms.
It came as a consecutive series of vivid stories to me. The warm feeling that enveloped my body has vanished. Leaving no trace, no worry or comfort. At that moment, no time was left for pondering; tears began to flow.
I woke up in the morning, and for some reason, I cried. Such a thing often happens after the competition in the village of Boszeven concludes.
And I vividly remember a dream of a stranger. I gaze at my right hand, the hand that just wiped my tears. And there, nestled on my index finger, a teardrop. The tears that weakened my eyes only lasted for a few moments and are now dry.
Just once, on this hand...
Something very important...
I can't remember.
Resigned, I walked out to the back of the house. Heading to the river beyond the trees. I washed my face, feeling surprised by the coldness and sensation of the water. I gazed into the stream where my reflection appeared.
A face staring, wanting something.
But what?
Perhaps the answer lies within my rapidly pulsating chest.
"Still searching for the answers for the right to understand."
That spontaneous remark emanated from within me.
Everything began to make sense with the frequent dreams I have. The stranger I often dream of is seeking that answer. My face, still wet from the river, sheds flowing tears once again.
Washing my face once more, I'm uncertain about what to do with this feeling. Then I return home, where my mother instructs me to eat. But she doesn't know that I usually never have breakfast; a cup of tea is enough to fuel me every morning.
From today, my mother has stopped her work as the head servant of the kingdom and will take care of me more often. I'm quite pleased with that and begin to devour the meal she's prepared. I don't want to disappoint her.
After that, I proceed with my daily activities. I go to my father's room, where there's a bookshelf containing knowledge of magic and related things such as summoning mystical beings, a list of magical relics, ways to perceive the convergence of magical currents in the world, and more.
In the afternoon, I head to the field behind the house to practice martial arts with Uncle Staal. This time, we'll practice swordplay infused with magic. He mentions that everyone's magical abilities differ, but I'm an exception. I possess numerous magical streams residing within me, and he reminds me,
"Every great ability carries great responsibility."
He speaks from his experience as a former commander in the kingdom's army. It's clearly visible on his face, marked by a significant scar in the middle.
In the evening, I ponder on the cliff, overlooking the landscape of Boszeven forest. Observing the colossal gate affixed to the ravine in the valley. Repeating questions and answering them with reason. Yet, it's not crucial. The gate remains, as a fact.
I gain reverie. Leaning against a tree, I witness and enjoy the scenery. In the forest, in the sky, at the gate, and at the sun slowly hiding behind the mountains. Trying to understand the meaning of why all this exists.
I still don't understand, and I give in when my head becomes heavy due to this overwhelming curiosity. Unaware, darkness comes to my bed. Making me tired, and I start to lie down.
I realize.
Trapped within my fierce desire,
Craving answers to the questions inside of me.