The sound of footsteps was getting closer. Darkness had already fallen, making it difficult to see anything properly. The rain had intensified, turning the ground into mud. Without looking back, I was sprinting at full speed through the trees. Since I couldn't see ahead, branches kept hitting me, leaving cuts all over my body. My already worn-out clothes were now completely tattered.
I was in a dense forest. There was no sign of light or a path nearby. Far from any settlements, only the sound of owls could be heard in this desolate place as I kept running without looking back. Due to the darkness, I hadn't been able to see the faces of those chasing me, but they couldn't have been after me for a good reason.
I had no idea how long I had been running, but after a while, I no longer heard any sounds behind. Now, the only thing I could hear were the owls and the rapid beating of my heart. I turned around to check if anyone was still chasing me, but when I saw no one behind me, I thought I had lost them and stopped to catch my breath. Just then, a thick veil of fog covered the area. The fog was so dense that it did not dissipate despite the heavy rain. Before I could understand what was happening, a dagger shot out from within the mist, narrowly missing my head and embedding itself in the tree beside me. Shaken, but regaining a bit of composure, I grabbed the dagger from the tree to arm myself and started running again.
I was running with a dagger in my hand, but the fog was so dense that I couldn't see where I was going. Before long, I crashed into a tree, then another, and another… My face was covered in cuts and bruises from constantly hitting the trees; I had probably even broken my nose, but I couldn't stop running. No matter how many trees I hit or how many times I tripped over rocks and fell, I kept going. It didn't matter how many cuts covered my body or how many bones I had broken—yes, it hurt, but it was better than being caught and killed.
After a while, I saw a light nearby and started running toward it. Before long, I saw a cabin. But as I ran toward it, the cabin suddenly vanished, leaving no trace behind as if it had never existed. Right after that, a woman and a boy, around eight or nine years old, emerged from the fog. The woman held the boy's hand with one hand and clutched a wooden stick in the other. As they approached, I could see them more clearly. The woman was wearing a tattered white nightgown.
The cuts on her body must have been deep because there wasn't much white left on her gown—blood from her wounds had stained it red. I couldn't see clearly in the darkness, but a thick liquid, which I assumed was blood, was dripping from the stick she held. The boy was in even worse condition; his body was so deeply cut that I could see parts of his bones even from where I stood. Despite their injuries, neither of them showed any sign of pain and continued walking toward me. What was even stranger was that I felt like I knew them from somewhere, but I couldn't remember who they were. Just as they were only a few steps away, they disappeared, just like the cabin, without leaving a trace behind. I stood there frozen, yet I was sure they had been right in front of me.
Now that I think about it—what was my name?
Shortly after the woman and child disappeared, more people started emerging from the fog. They all looked seriously injured—some had deep cuts, while others were missing limbs, yet they all seemed to be alive. Another thing they had in common was that, after a short while, they all vanished. And somehow, every single one of them looked familiar, as if I had seen them somewhere before. I didn't know why, but suddenly, tears started streaming down my face, and I fell to my knees. No one else appeared for a while, but I was still too confused to move. There was definitely something wrong here. People didn't just appear and disappear like that. Was I in a haunted forest, or had I finally lost my mind?
Suddenly, I heard a noise from my right. Then, a silhouette emerged from the fog—this one was different from the others. Unlike the rest, this person had no visible wounds. Dressed entirely in black, with a hood covering their face, I couldn't tell who they were. I forced myself to stand up as steadily as I could. Instead of throwing the dagger and leaving myself unarmed, I gripped it tightly and pointed it at the figure approaching me. But before I could react, more silhouettes started forming around me. In the blink of an eye, I was surrounded, with no way to escape. I tightened my grip on the dagger, pointing it more firmly at the man while desperately looking for a way out. But I was so scared that I could barely hold the weapon properly, and the thick fog made it impossible to see a path to escape.
Before I could make sense of anything, one of the figures lunged at me with a sword that resembled a katana. I managed to block the attack with my dagger, but the moment I did, the attacker vanished into thin air, just like the others before him. Another figure attacked next, and once again, I blocked the strike, only for them to disappear too.
The silhouettes never attacked all at once. They always came at me one by one and vanished after attacking. Then I realized—the person behind this was controlling the fog. They were using it to create illusions, confusing me so that I couldn't tell which of them was real. That must have been why I had seen people appear and disappear earlier; they had all been illusions. That meant only one of these figures was real—the rest were fake. But they all looked exactly the same, so I had no way of knowing which one was real.
The silhouettes attacked again, and I blocked the strike as before, causing the attacker to vanish. But every time one of them attacked, my dagger made contact with their weapon, which meant the one attacking me had to be the real one.
When the silhouette attacked again, I waited for them to get as close as possible so I wouldn't miss, and just as they were about to strike, I hurled my dagger at them. However, the blade passed right through their body and embedded itself into a tree behind them, while the figure disappeared into the fog. Now I didn't even have a weapon to defend myself. So when the silhouette launched another attack, I couldn't do anything.
The figure first slashed me from my stomach up to my chest, and I collapsed onto my back. Then, they pulled out several daggers and used them to pin my hands and legs to the ground. I screamed, cried, and begged them to let me go, but they ignored me. My body felt numb from the pain. The lunatic then pulled out another weapon and started carving cuts into my flesh. By then, I no longer had the strength to scream—I was just waiting for the final blow. At last, the silhouette stood up, raised their sword high above my throat, and...—
I jolted awake from my bed, drenched in sweat, breathing heavily. The nightmare had felt so real that it took me a moment to realize it had only been a dream.
I sat on my bed for a while, glancing around to calm myself down. Everything looked just as I remembered. My sword stand was right beside the door. Next to it was my not-so-large bookshelf. I had positioned my bed in the corner near the door. I kept my clothes in the wardrobe across the cabin. I didn't have many belongings, so more than half of the wardrobe was empty. There were two small windows on either side of the door, allowing sunlight to stream in. Despite its small size, the cabin had a warm, cozy feel to it. And in terms of space, it was more than enough for me.
Once I had calmed down, I got out of bed, put on some clothes, and stepped outside. Morning had long since arrived, and people were already at work. The sunlight was so bright that I had to shield my eyes with my hand as I took deep breaths of fresh air to steady myself. Just then, a voice called out from behind me.
"Good morning, sleepyhead. Or should I say good afternoon? It's already two o'clock," she said.
I turned around to see Eirian approaching. Arms crossed, silver eyes narrowed, she was staring at me with a look of disapproval. Her shoulder-length, light brown hair, with gray at the tips, shimmered under the sunlight as she stood in front of me, demanding an explanation.
"I had that nightmare again," I said before continuing, "I was running through a forest, being chased by someone. Then, a thick fog rolled in, and people started appearing and disappearing. After that, someone emerged from the mist and attacked me. They must have been controlling the fog because they used illusions to confuse me. Then they stabbed their sword into my throat, just like in all my other nightmares."
I had been having nightmares like this for about seven years now. By now, I should have gotten used to them, but I still woke up every morning drenched in sweat, sometimes screaming. Neither of those nightmares were ever the same, but they all ended with my death. Sometimes I died from illness, sometimes from old age, and sometimes, like in today's dream, I was murdered. No matter the cause, the outcome was always the same. We had tried to stop them, but nothing worked. The moment I fell asleep, the nightmares would return. At one point, we even wondered if this was a sign of some hidden ability, but since I had no other symptoms aside from the nightmares, we eventually gave up on researching it.
Hearing this, Eirian's expression softened slightly. Stepping closer, she said, "I know you keep having these nightmares, but you also know there's nothing we can do. At least we can go down to the city to take your mind off things. We have some tasks to do there anyway, so get ready so we can head out."
She gently patted my shoulder before walking off to help the others in the village. I turned back inside my cabin to prepare for the trip to the city.