William's body jolted upright, gasping for breath. His hands pressed into the soft, strange surface beneath him as his chest tightened with confusion. The world around him was blindingly bright, forcing him to shut his eyes tightly. He tried opening them again, but the searing light brought tears to his eyes, stinging as they streamed down his cheeks. Blinking rapidly, William squinted against the intensity.
"What... where am I?" he whispered; his voice hoarse as he struggled to adjust. With his eyes barely open, he glanced left and right, desperate for any clue. All he could see was an endless, barren plain of white sand stretching out in every direction. It reflected the harsh light so brightly it hurt to look at.
William leaned forward, his hands sinking into the cold, bright sand, now able to at least grasp his surroundings. "How did I get here? Where's Catherine?" William muttered, his voice shaking with fear not of his dire situation, but of what could have happened to Catherine. The first thing he did was mentally sketch a map of Urana Uta. He knew every inch of it, yet there wasn't a single place on the map that resembled this
His heart raced as questions overloaded his mind. The thoughts were relentless, each one bringing more anxiety. Desperate, he started crawling in a random direction, hoping to find any sign of Catherine.
But as soon as he began to move, he felt the cold grains of sand brushing against his feet. William frowned in confusion. He paused, sitting up from the belly position he had been crawling in. What caught his attention next made his heart skip a beat his feet. After a moment of disbelief, William began to pull up the legs of his old, shabby trousers, his fingers trembling as he did. Now, he was more than just confused. His legs looked... healthy. Strong, even. Unlike the fragile limbs, he had grown accustomed to over the years. He flexed his toes, feeling the strange sensation of movement.
"This can't be real," he murmured, disbelief overtaking him. The phrase echoed in his mind over and over. For a moment, the weight of what he was seeing was too much.
Then, a grimace spread across William's face as he began to laugh an almost manic sound breaking the silence of the barren plain. "That must be it... I'm dreaming," he thought aloud, his voice wavering between amusement and desperation. "Why else would I be stuck in a place like this?" William closed his eyes, grinning wildly. "Yeah, a dream... I should wake up any moment now," he muttered, recalling the old saying: If you realize you're dreaming, you'll just wake up.
He lay back down in the same position he had been in when he first awoke, his eyes squeezed shut. Seconds ticked by the anticipation of waking up growing with each breath. But after a few moments, he opened his eyes once more, only to be greeted by the same sight the endless, blinding plain of sand stretching out infinitely in every direction.
Nothing had changed.
William glanced down at his feet again, panic creeping into his chest. "This... this must be a dream," he whispered to himself, his voice shaking with disbelief. "But... don't people wake up once they realize they're dreaming?"
After several failed attempts to wake up, William gave up on the idea. "At this point, what's the use?" he muttered, rubbing his temples. Exhausted, despite only closing his eyes, pinching his arm, and trying every other method he could think of to jolt himself awake, he sighed in resignation.
Still seated, he looked down at his legs. A faint, ironic smile tugged at his lips. "Might as well put you to use," he said with a touch of sarcasm as if addressing old enemies.
William cautiously pushed himself to his feet. Unfamiliarity weighed on him he hadn't stood, let alone walked, in years. His legs quivered with each attempt to balance, and he stumbled, landing in the cold, fine sand. His heart pounded, but determination flared within him. With a breath, he steadied himself and tried again, each shake and strain slowly giving way to stability.
Finally, he stood upright, a grin spreading across his face a mix of disbelief and raw joy. Tentatively, he took a step, then another, savoring the sensation of his legs carrying him. It felt exhilarating, like reclaiming a piece of himself he thought lost. Then, without warning, he started to run. Faster and faster, he went, the tears streaming down his cheeks, his grin widening as the wind rushed past him.
His bare feet kicked up clouds of pale sand, grains slipping between his toes with each stride. The more he ran, the more the barren plain seemed to blur, and the freer he felt. But the soft, yielding sand quickly sapped his strength, and his legs finally gave out. He collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily, still laughing as he gazed upward, his face alight with joy.
He lay there for a moment, staring up at the endless, starry sky. It looked like something out of an old tale an otherworldly canvas of purple hues mixed with deep blues and blacks, illuminated by countless stars that shimmered across the vast expanse. But as the euphoria began to fade, a creeping sense of unease set in, prickling at the back of his mind. William sat up slowly, his gaze shifting from the sky to the vast, barren landscape surrounding him. "Where… am I?" he murmured, voice barely a whisper in the vast silence.
He lay there for a moment, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. His body buzzed with exhilaration, the kind he hadn't felt in years or perhaps ever. Even if this is a dream, the excitement feels too real, William thought, a faint smile lingering on his lips. He stretched his arms wide, letting the cool sand shift beneath him. "What a shame," he murmured, closing his eyes for a moment, "I'll have to wake up eventually."
For now, he allowed himself to savor the moment. But as the seconds stretched on, something nagged at the back of his mind. When he opened his eyes again, the vast, starry sky above him seemed different.
The sky above him was an intricate dance of purples and blues, a mesmerizing expanse that felt alive in its stillness. Yet, it was the stars that drew William in. Each sparkled with a desperate brilliance, as though battling against the vast void to make its light known. Somehow, their persistent glow made the otherwise oppressive blackness of the sky less frightening a delicate beauty nestled in the endless unknown.
William allowed himself a moment of peace, letting the stars' quiet struggle ease his thoughts. He exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting beyond the celestial display to the horizon. His body relaxed until it didn't.
Something shifted. An unseen weight clamped down on him, freezing him in place. His arms, his legs none of them responded.
"What... what is this?" William muttered, panic rising in his throat. He strained to move, but his body refused to obey. His breaths quickened as he realized the gravity of his situation. "I... I can't move. What's happening?"
His body betrayed him, taking slow, deliberate steps forward. Each motion was stiff, lifeless, like a marionette pulled by strings. He screamed internally, willing his limbs to stop, but the force driving him was unrelenting.
After a long time of trying to fight back, William gave up. It was just him and the slow crunching of the sand beneath his feet. His movements were no longer his own, and his mind spiraled deeper into despair. Now, fully convinced that this was a nightmare, he waited for the inevitable the moment the monsters would come to claim him.
As if summoned by his thoughts, the sound of footsteps echoed behind him a deliberate, steady rhythm that cut through the oppressive silence.
"Struggling already?" The voice was low and gravelly, carrying a mocking edge. "You barely lasted a moment before falling prey to this place's grip."
William's eyes widened. He tried to turn his head toward the source of the voice, but his body refused to obey. His steps continued, unrelenting and mechanical. Panic set in as he realized he was still trapped. Then, without warning, something flicked the back of his head. The sensation was sharp but brief. A moment later, the invisible bindings snapped, and William collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. His limbs trembled as freedom returned, the weight of control lifting.
He lay there for a moment, his breath shaky. Gathering his strength, William turned his head toward the voice. Emerging from the shimmering heat of the plain, a figure loomed tall and wolf-like. Its gait was both predatory and composed, each step deliberates. Sharp, piercing eyes locked onto William, seeming to see through him, into him.
"Who... what are you?" William croaked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The creature tilted its head, a flicker of amusement crossing its features. "You ask the wrong questions," it said, its voice rumbling like distant thunder. "The better question is, why are you here?"
William pushed himself upright, brushing the fine white sand from his hands. His gaze shifted to the landscape around him, where eerie stone figures dotted the horizon. Each statue stood frozen mid-motion, their outstretched arms reaching toward something far beyond his sight.
"What... what are these?" William murmured, his voice barely audible as he stepped closer to one of the figures. It resembled a young man, his face twisted with desperation, every muscle in his outstretched arm straining toward an unseen destination. Nearby, another statue loomed a grotesque creature, half-man, half-beast, its claws digging into the sand as its misshapen limbs mirrored the same reaching pose.
The wolf-like creature's piercing eyes followed William's movements. "Fools," it said bluntly. "Like you, they came seeking answers beyond their understanding. Some sought power, others salvation. But this place offers neither. It grants only..." The creature trailed off, its gaze locking onto the distant horizon where the statues all seemed to point.
"Seeking for answers?" William hesitated, his fingers brushing against the cold, lifeless stone of the young man's face. A shiver ran through him. "What happened to them?"
"They reached too far," the creature replied, its arms crossing over its broad chest. "They sought what should remain untouched. You'll share their fate unless you turn back now."
William smirked, a trace of amusement breaking through his unease. Turn back? he thought. This dream is getting more ridiculous by the second. His eyes flicked to the creature, who stood still like a sentinel. "How do you expect me to turn back," William began, "when I don't even know how I got here?"
The creature remained silent, its imposing figure shadowed by layers of worn cloth and the ragged edges of Armor. A sword's hilt peeked over its shoulder, the weapon as formidable as its bearer. William tilted his head back, craning his neck just to meet the creature's eyes. "Why are you helping me?" he finally asked, his voice laced with suspicion.
The wolfman's lips curled into a smirk. "Perhaps I find your struggle... entertaining," it said, its deep voice carrying a hint of mockery. It leaned in closer, its sharp features illuminated by the ethereal light of the stars above. The wolf's eyes glinted, as though seeing something in William that he had yet to realize. "Or perhaps," it continued, "I see a glimmer of potential."
The word hung in the air, reverberating in William's mind. Potential. It lingered like a puzzle piece he couldn't place, its weight both unsettling and strangely significant. Yet, no clear meaning surfaced, leaving him with only questions.
Thump.
William froze, his body rigid. Was that just my heart?
Thump.
A second beat, heavier than the first. William's hand instinctively clutched at his chest, gasping for air. With each pulse, it felt as though his body might burst apart. Panic set in as his breathing quickened, his vision blurring.
"Don't worry about it," the wolf-like creature said nonchalantly, its tone laced with amusement. "You asked how to turn back. That's your answer."
William shot the creature a glare, teeth clenched in pain. I'd punch that smug face if I could move, he thought, though his rage was cut short by another agonizing thump that sent him collapsing to the ground. He curled into himself, his trembling hands clutching the sand as his body convulsed with each pounding heartbeat.
Then came the voices.
Low, guttural murmurs, like ancient whispers clawed their way into his mind. He couldn't understand the words, but their presence was suffocating, a strange, rumbling cacophony that made his head feel like it was about to split open. The pain became unbearable.
"I... I'm going to pass out if this keeps up..." he managed to gasp, his voice barely audible. The world around him spun violently, the stars above blurring into streaks of light.
With a guttural scream, William jolted upright, his eyes snapping open to the familiar darkness of his room. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, sweat dripping down his face and soaking his nightshirt. His heart pounded erratically, and a dull ache throbbed in his skull.
What a dream... he muttered, running a shaky hand through his damp hair. His throat parched, he reached for the jar of water on the bedside table and drank greedily, gulping it down as though he hadn't tasted water in days.
As he set the empty jar back down his gaze instinctively drifted down to his feet. They lay uncovered, the pale skin almost translucent under the dim light. His ankles were thin, just as they had always been, a stark reminder of his condition.
But as he raised his trembling hands to his face, brushing away the sweat, his fingers froze mid-motion. He felt something coarse against his skin. Lowering his hand slowly, he stared at his palm in disbelief.
Grains of sand.
Small, white particles glittered faintly under the light. His eyes widened as his thoughts raced. How could this be? It felt too real, too vivid. He wiped his forehead again, confirming the impossible the sand was still there.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden creak of the door. Catherine stepped into the room, her dark eyes reflecting the soft glow of the oil lamp she carried. Her hair, slightly tousled from sleep, framed her small, oval-shaped face. Though her features were delicate, they held a quiet strength, a calm resolve that contrasted with William's disheveled state.
"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice low but steady, her gaze searching his face for answers.
William hesitated, quickly brushing the sand off his forehead. "Eh... yeah, I'm fine," he lied, his voice still shaky. "Just had a bad dream... sorry for waking you."
Catherine set the lamp on his nightstand and stepped closer, her eyes scanning his face carefully. She crouched slightly to meet his gaze, her expression softening even more. Her dark eyes were piercing yet comforting, like a calm sea that could draw you in without resistance.
For a moment, William couldn't help but stare, noticing the faint traces of exhaustion under her eyes and the subtle curve of her lips, which held a quiet strength. Despite her petite frame, Catherine always carried herself with confidence, a trait that made her seem taller than she was.
"Wait here," she said after a moment, standing up straight. Her voice was gentle but firm. Without waiting for his reply, she left the room, her footsteps barely audible.
Moments later, Catherine returned, carrying a bucket of water that sloshed gently as she walked. Setting it beside the bed, she rolled up the sleeves of her nightgown and grabbed a cloth.
"This isn't necessary," William muttered, avoiding her gaze.
Catherine ignored his protest, dipping the cloth into the cool water. She wrung it out before leaning closer to him. Her movements were calm and methodical as she began wiping the sweat from his face and neck.
William's gaze lingered on her as she worked. Even in the dim light, she exuded a quiet elegance. The way her slender fingers moved with care, the way her dark lashes framed her focused eyes it was difficult to look away.
"You'll get sick if you go back to bed like this," Catherine said, breaking the silence. Her tone was practical, but there was an underlying tenderness in her actions.
Feeling a pang of guilt, William mumbled, "Sorry."
Catherine raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Keep saying sorry like that, and you won't get breakfast tomorrow," she teased, dabbing at his forehead with care.
As Catherine finished cleaning him, she paused for a moment, her eyes lingering on William's face. Her expression softened, but her brows knit slightly as if sensing something unspoken. She opened her mouth as if to say something but stopped herself. Instead, she gave him a small, reassuring smile and stood.
"Get some sleep," she said, her voice calm but watchful. With a last glance over her shoulder, she stepped out, leaving William alone in the quiet dimness.
His mind raced. Was it truly just a dream? Or was there something more?
The weight of that thought pressed down on him, making it hard to breathe, the sound of the door closing breaking the fragile silence. Alone in the dim light, William stared at his palm, his pulse quickening. Somewhere, deep in the recesses of his mind, he felt it the pull, the call of the endless desert and the towering statues.
His mind buzzed with questions, but the weight of exhaustion was stronger.
He let out a slow breath, then pulled the blanket up over his chest. "There's no time to think about this right now," he muttered to himself, his voice barely audible in the stillness.
His body sank deeper into the mattress as he closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. "I should just sleep… and see what happens," he whispered, letting the strange events fade to the back of his mind. For now, sleep was his only refuge.
But even as his thoughts began to blur, the faint sensation of the cold sand on his skin lingered a quiet reminder that whatever had happened.
Potential.