A vast void stretched endlessly, an unbroken darkness. Wisps of colorful stardust drifted slowly, spinning in large, swirling vortexes, their faint glow casting an ethereal luster across the land. Strange clouds hung low, twisting and blending into the landscape itself. The ground was peculiar, writhing and shifting in spirals and folds—both beautiful and unsettling—as though creation had left this place unfinished, suspended between imagination and reality.
In the distance, the land's fluid shapes morphed and intertwined with the stardust, casting shadows that felt oddly alive, almost watching. In the quiet, an unnatural stillness clung to the air, amplifying the faintest of movements. It was a world unbound, defying reason.
Within the shifting landscape, a silhouette moved across the bizarre terrain.
"Still the same," the figure murmured, his voice barely a whisper against the silence. He moved through the land, its surface twisting to make way for him. Familiar, yet strange, the dream gripped him, each detail sharp and haunting. He'd been here before—countless times. And each time, the darkness seemed to pull at him, like shadows wrapping themselves around his soul.
"I have walked these planes once before," the figure spoke as he looked around. "Father says my dreams have meanings… but what in the world is this?" He frowned, his frustration growing more evident with each step,
'Maybe there is something past these planes,' he ponders looking at the shadows dancing in the horizon, as if daring him to come closer.
Although he was far too familiar with this place. Tonight, it felt different. The shadows on the horizon seemed denser, as though they held secrets within their depths. The vortexes that spun slowly within the sky seemed brighter, their light seemingly fighting with the void. A sense of urgency tugged at his mind, though he couldn't pinpoint why.
As he traversed the terrain, something unusual caught his eye—a glimmer within one of the vortexes at the edge of his vision, faint but persistent. He turned and moved toward the light, but the closer he got, the farther it seemed, as though testing him, luring him into the unknown. With every step, the landscape around him shifted, darkening, the once-beautiful colors fading into a deeper, more sinister palette. He couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, of something lurking just out of sight.
A sudden vibration pulled him out of his trance. Glancing down, he noticed his bracelets were trembling. From the beads on his right arm—a deep darkness, while the ones on his left emitted a sharp, silvery light. They pulsed, mirroring the swirling stardust around him, their glow usually a comfort. But tonight, a chill crept up his spine. Their light seemed much greater, it felt wrong, too deep, as though warning him of something.
An icy shiver raced down his spine as a faint whisper cut through the silence, too faint to hear yet sharp enough to make him stop dead. His heartbeat pounded in his chest. The ground began to quake, swirling into tight, dark spirals as the shadows crept toward him like ink spreading through water. He could feel his breath quicken, each shadow like a clawing tendril reaching for him, pulling him deeper into fear.
"Calm down," he whispered, steadying himself. But deep down, he knew—something was changing. A strange excitement tightened in his chest, mingling with fear. The void twisted around him, resonating with a low hum that filled him with both dread and exhilaration.
But then, the landscape began to unravel—a piercing light sliced through the darkness from above him. It cut through the void with unyielding brilliance, shattering the dark serenity that had held him captive.
"No, please—just one more minute," he begged, but it was too late. His figure was pulled toward the light with incredible speed. The brightness became blinding, forcing him to shut his eyes. When he opened them again, he found himself in a room. The faint hum of morning sounds filled his ears, accompanied by the soft rustling of curtains.
'Something finally changed, but…'
"Good morning, sweetheart," a warm voice greeted him, interrupting his thoughts. He turned to the curtains on his left, where the silhouette of a woman approached him.
"How's my little Euri doing?" she asked, her voice gentle as she sat beside him on the bed. Her presence was calming, and he felt himself relax. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he could finally see her face.
Her bronze skin seemed to glow beneath the morning sun, her hair a cascade of red curls that tumbled over her shoulders. She leaned forward, planting a soft kiss on his forehead, before her hand slowly caressed his face. Pulling away, her lips parted into a warm motherly smile.
"I'm alright, Mother," Euric replied, smiling as he gazed into her black eyes, the depths of which sparkled like a starry night.
"I'm glad you're alright," she replied, her voice soft.
Euric's heart swelled, feeling comforted in his mother's presence. In her gaze, he felt understood, even without words. Yet, as he sank into this sense of safety, her gaze shifted. Her eyes narrowed, the warmth draining from her expression, replaced by a sharpness that made him shiver. Her voice was calm, but her gaze was not forgiving.
A chill settled over him as his mother's sudden seriousness washed over him like a shadow. 'What time is it?' His heart sank, as he scrambled to rise from the bed, but she halted him with her firm gaze, firmly rooting him in place.
Her hand, the same that had just caressed him, now gripped his cheek firmly, causing him to wince. "Did you forget your morning prayers, Euric Draven Lareth?"
A wave of guilt tightened his chest. 'I knew I forgot something,' he thought, forcing a dry smile. "I'm sorry, Mom, I—" His voice trailed off as her grip tightened, sending a prickling chill down his spine.
"No excuses, boy. You know it was your turn to tend the altar." She released his cheek, the disappointment in her eyes stinging sharper than any reprimand. "Your father was up before dawn, preparing everything alone."
Looking down, Euric felt the weight of her words settle over him. 'I lost myself in the dream again.'
"You need to be more responsible Euric," his mother sighed as she turned towards the window, peering at the clear blue sky. Euric's heart clenched, a stinging sensation filled his chest as he realized how upset his mother truly was. It wasn't anger in her voice—it was disappointment, a feeling he dreads more than anything.
He sat up, his legs hanging off the bed while his back faced his mother. He looked absently at his tidy bedroom– its concrete walls and worn-out cupboards. The paint stripping off the wood, a reminder of how long he has spent living here.
He got off the bed, feeling the cold wooden floor beneath his feet. "I'm really sorry, Mother." Moving around to kneel before her, he rested his head on her lap, closing his eyes as he waited for her response.
'I need to be more helpful,' he thought to himself, an image of his father struggling to tend to the altar tore through his mind. His brows furrowed after hearing his mother's silence. Just as he was about to apologize again, he felt her fingers weave gently through his hair.
Rising slightly, he looked up, holding her hand. "Mother, I won't let it happen again." He saw a sorrowful glint in her eyes as she sighed.
"H-How is Father?" Euric asked.
"He's alright, tending to the village's requests as always," she replied, her gaze distant, as though picturing her husband. "He works so tirelessly, even with his own burdens. It is our family's duty, after all—to care for the villagers' spirits, and to protect the shrine."
'Our responsibility,' Euric echoed in his mind, feeling the weight of it settle on his shoulders. "Let me go check on him, Mother. Perhaps I can help with something."
Although it was momentary, he caught it, his mother's eyes flicked to the bracelets on his wrists. "You have yet to awaken, dear. Best not to linger near the altar while your father is there." Standing, she helped him to his feet, guiding him toward the door with her hand resting gently on his shoulder.
"Let's go," she said with a smile that softened the remnants of her earlier disappointment. "Help me make breakfast for your father."
Euric returned her smile, nodding. "Alright, Mom." As they left the room, his thoughts drifted back to the dream—the darkness, the twisting landscape, the unreachable light. And the whisper. Even as he walked beside her, a strange weight pressed down on him, each step echoing the whispers still clinging to his mind.
'What was that?' he shivered, the dream looping within his head.
As they walked down the tight hallway, Euric's gaze drifted to his wrists, where his bracelets lay still, quiet against his skin. The dark and silvery beads looked ordinary now, but he could still feel the memory of their pulse, echoing faintly through him.
They reached the kitchen, a modest room that held everything they needed and nothing more. Euric's mother moved to the small stove at the center of the room, checking the charcoal she'd already set. Making sure that the coals were still alight, she proceeded to open the saucepan that was sitting on the stove, releasing a fragrant aroma that permeated the kitchen.
'Chicken Stew…' Euric thought, as he watched his mother stir the pot.
Lifting her head from the stew, she motioned him towards the cupboards. Not wanting to make his mother repeat herself he quickly opened them to fetch the dried herbs and spices they'd needed for breakfast.
The clink of ceramic jars as he retrieved the required herbs caught his mother's attention. She watched as his hands moved back and forth between the ceramic pots and the mortar beside them.
"Remember, go lightly on the salt, Euric," she murmured, her gaze resting on him with a gentle reminder, and he nodded, carefully measuring the herbs as he'd been taught.
His mother's gaze moved to his wrists once more, her eyes moving between the two as Euric continued to work. "Someday, you'll understand their purpose," she said softly, almost to herself. Her words lingered, settling heavily over him, and for a moment, he couldn't help but wonder the real reason his parents gave him them.