Devyn bolted upright, gasping for air as the remnants of the strange dream lingered in his mind. His heart was still racing, his body tense with the confusion of what he had just seen. He's used to vivid dream, but none as confusing as this.
In this dream, everything had felt so real, so tangible, yet impossibly foreign.
He ran a hand through his short, tousled hair, still half-expecting to feel the impossibly long white locks that had trailed down his back in the dream, brushing against his ankles. He could still see the image so clearly in his mind, his reflection in a mirror, with pale skin, and hair so white it seemed to glow. And Malakai…
Malakai had been there, too. But he hadn't called him Devyn. He had called him Hiller.
The name felt familiar and strange all at once, as if it held some forgotten significance, buried deep in the recesses of his mind.
But why had he dreamt of himself with a different name, in a different world, and why had Malakai looked at him with such affection? It wasn't just a fleeting moment either, there had been a tenderness, a deep familiarity between them in that dream, as if they had known and loved each other for lifetimes.
Devyn rubbed his eyes and sighed. This was the first time he had ever dreamt something so strange, so… personal.
His usual visions, whenever they came, were always about the future, about catastrophes he had to prepare for, not some alternate reality where he was called by another name and was… apparently in love with Malakai?
That couldn't have been a vision of the future. His hair color was different, his name was different. It had to be something else. But what?
Could it have something to do with Malakai's strange powers? Ever since Malakai had appeared in his life, things had felt off-kilter. Malakai wasn't like anyone he had ever known, there was something otherworldly about him.
Could his presence be influencing Devyn's dreams somehow? Was there something Malakai wasn't telling him?
Devyn couldn't shake the vividness of the dream. Malakai, standing by the window, looking out over a peaceful landscape, his eyes soft, his lips curved into a gentle smile.
There had been no chaos, no danger. Just peace. Devyn, no, Hiller, had walked into the room, his long hair flowing behind him, and Malakai had turned to him with that look, that tender gaze that made Devyn's chest tighten even now.
"What are you staring at?" Hiller had asked in the dream, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.
"Just admiring the most beautiful thing in the room," Malakai had replied, his voice low and soft, as he wrapped his arms around Hiller's waist.
Devyn could still feel the warmth of that embrace, the way he'd leaned into it, resting his head against Malakai's chest.
There had been such an ease between them, a familiarity that spoke of lifetimes spent together.
They had teased and laughed, as if the rest of the world didn't matter, as if they were the only two people in existence.
It was a kind of love Devyn hadn't experienced before, not in any of his waking moments. And then Malakai had called him Hiller again, and the name had settled over him like a forgotten truth.
Devyn shook his head, trying to dispel the strange emotions that clung to him. It was just a dream. It had to be. But why did it feel so real? And why did it feel like he was supposed to remember something from it?
He stood up from the makeshift bed, still feeling uneasy. His underground bunker felt too small, too confining after that dream. He needed to move, to shake off the lingering sense of disorientation. But as he looked around, he noticed something was missing.
Malakai wasn't there.
Panic spiked through him, his pulse racing as he scanned the space. Malakai had been there when he fell asleep. He was sure of it. But now… now the room felt empty. Had Malakai left? The thought twisted his stomach in ways he didn't fully understand.
He hated to admit it, but he had grown used to Malakai's presence. Relied on it, even. The idea of him leaving, especially after that dream, made his chest tighten.
Without thinking, Devyn rushed to the rusted hatch at the far end of the bunker. His hand hovered over the cold metal, his heart hammering in his chest. What if Malakai had left for good? What if the dream had been some kind of warning?
Just as he was about to push the hatch open, he heard the creak of the stairs. The heavy door lifted, and Devyn stepped back, breath held, as Malakai's familiar figure appeared, descending the rickety steps with his dark cloak trailing behind him.
Relief washed over Devyn, though he tried to hide it quickly. His pulse steadied as Malakai reached the bottom of the stairs and glanced up at him, his silver eyes gleaming with amusement.
"I see you're awake," Malakai remarked, a smirk tugging at his lips.
Devyn folded his arms, trying to keep his voice casual, though the anxiety still bubbled beneath the surface. "Where were you?" The question came out sharper than he intended, and Malakai raised an eyebrow.
Malakai raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Missed me already?"
Devyn rolled his eyes, but there was a faint smile playing at his lips as well. That was definitely Malakai, always teasing, always pushing his buttons.
"Not exactly," Devyn muttered, trying to play it off, but his eyes lingered on Malakai for a moment longer than usual, studying him. There was something unsettling about how much Malakai looked exactly like he had in the dream.
The way he moved, the way he carried himself, the way his dark hair fell just so across his forehead, it was identical to the image in his mind.
Malakai caught him staring and raised an eyebrow. "Is there something on my face?"
Devyn quickly looked away, heat rising to his cheeks. "No," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn't want to admit that he'd been caught, especially after that strange dream. It would just make things weirder.
Malakai studied him for a moment, a flicker of curiosity in his gaze. "You're acting strange this morning," he said, his tone more serious now. "Something on your mind?"
Devyn hesitated. He could tell Malakai about the dream, about how it had felt so real, how he had called him Hiller, how everything had felt so… familiar. But something held him back. He wasn't sure if he was ready to confront whatever that dream had been trying to tell him. Not yet.
"It's nothing," Devyn said, forcing a shrug. "Just had a weird dream, that's all."
Malakai seemed to consider him for a moment, his gaze lingering, but he didn't push the issue. Instead, he turned toward the corner where supplies were kept, busying himself with packing. "Well, whatever it was, forget about it," he said lightly. "We've got a long journey ahead."
Devyn frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Journey? Where are we going?"