This afternoon, Aelan felt drowsy. In the mansion belonging to his clan, the Song, he played the melody "Prelude" on the piano. Fully immersed in his thoughts, he pondered many things: his sister, who had disappeared somewhere in the Realm of Dreams, his mother, and the things that gave him no peace.
But today was a special day. He had been infected with a spell and was about to experience his first nightmare. However, before he could seriously think about it, his teacher entered the hall.
Aelan, being a tall young man, was slightly taller than his mentor, who was of average height. His blond hair fell in soft strands over his forehead, and his blue eyes resembled the ocean—though Aelan had never seen it, only imagined the endless waters he had read about in books. He stood up, bowed slightly, and calmly said:
"Greetings, Dire Fang."
His teacher, a vassal of the Song clan and one of the thirteen saints who had sworn loyalty to the clan, merely nodded. His black, slightly unkempt hair gave him a stern look, and his eyes held unwavering determination.
"Prince, come with me."
Aelan felt the drowsiness weighing down his body, but overcoming his fatigue, he followed his mentor to his quarters. Along the way, Dire Fang asked:
"How do you feel?"
Aelan replied in an even voice:
"Like anyone entering a nightmare for the first time…"
Stopping before the doors to his chambers, Dire Fang hesitated for a moment, then, looking at the young man, said:
"Your mother, the head of the clan, Ki Song, has high hopes for you. I hope you won't disappoint her."
Aelan silently nodded to his mentor and entered his room. The warm light of the lantern illuminated the heavy curtains and the massive bed, but the young man barely paid attention to the familiar comfort. Sleep washed over him in waves, sweeping away the thoughts of the day, but before he succumbed, Aelan once again thought of his sister Ravel, of Seishan, who had disappeared in the Realm of Dreams, of Hel… and of others whose faces surfaced in his memory.
A moment later, his eyelids dropped, and he fell into the long-awaited sleep.
---
Aelan's eyes snapped open. He was… on a ship? The sea air struck his face, the scent of salt tickled his nose. His head spun slightly from the change, but surprisingly, he did not feel tired. Just recently, he had been drowsy, but now he was full of energy.
A stern, commanding voice rang out nearby:
"Hey, Nickel! Go help the guys on the deck, don't just sit around!"
In that instant, Aelan realized: he had taken over someone named Nickel's body. This was part of his nightmare.
He quickly got up from his bunk and headed to the deck. Around him, sailors bustled about, tending to their duties, while the rhythm of the ship, governed by the waves, filled the air.
Approaching the railing, Aelan looked down. The water was crystal clear, bright blue, infinitely deep… The color of his eyes reflected in the waves, pure, untouched, as if the ocean itself was staring back at him. He lifted his gaze toward the horizon—where the sea merged with the sky, stretching endlessly.
His new body was almost the same as his own, except for a few facial features. His hands felt the same, his muscles carried familiar sensations, but something in the mirror would undoubtedly look different.
"Nickel!" a strict voice called.
A man approached him with a confident, firm stride. This was the ship's first mate—it was clear from the way he carried himself, from the tone of his voice, which brooked no argument.
"Roll the barrels into the cabins. Now."
Aelan nodded, not wanting to draw attention. Taking the first barrel, he began rolling it, listening in on a conversation nearby.
The captain and the first mate were discussing something important.
"The Well of Wishes…" Aelan caught a fragment of their words.
His hands continued working, but his hearing remained sharp.
"If the legend is true… it will grant any wish," said the captain, a man named Olivel.
"Are you sure it's worth the risk?" asked the first mate, Grindewald.
"This is why we set sail, isn't it?" Olivel replied with a slight smirk.
Aelan held his breath. The Well of Wishes… This could be something important. Maybe even the key to this nightmare.
After finishing with the barrels, Aelan stepped onto the deck, where other sailors were gathered. One of them caught his attention—a man using an aspect to control the waves, propelling the ship forward. The water crests moved obediently, responding to the master's will.
Intrigued, Aelan approached and said:
"Hey, hello."
The sailor glanced at him with mild, barely noticeable disdain.
"Nickel, you still haven't remembered my name?" he asked, slightly irritated.
Aelan smirked, trying to lighten the mood.
"I'm terrible with names, haha."
The sailor sighed heavily, clearly unimpressed.
"Rivalen. Rivalen," he repeated, as if drilling it into Aelan's mind.
"Oh yeah, right! Rivalen, sorry," Aelan quickly responded.
Seizing the moment, he decided to ask the question that interested him.
"What do you think about where we're headed?"
Rivalen smirked, his gaze drifting to the horizon.
"Nickel, we don't have a choice. Everyone has their own desires, especially us, the outcasts of the river folk… I don't know what memories Olivel gained, but if he's so sure we won't age, I trust him. Besides, I have no one else to trust."
Aelan pondered. He was beginning to understand that this ship was filled with people who had lost something… or those society had rejected. Criminals, fugitives, dreamers—it didn't matter. They were all searching for something, and they were all united by the endless water around them.
Wanting to learn more about Rivalen, Aelan asked:
"Why didn't you stay with your people? You have a useful aspect."
Rivalen rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.
"Aelan, I don't have an aspect. I'm awakened. This is sorcery."
A chill ran down Aelan's spine at those words. His sister Hel had told him about sorcery. He knew there were different kinds—rune magic, the magic of names.
Their conversation continued until Grindewald stepped onto the deck. His voice was sharp and commanding:
"Nickel, take care of the ship. I want it shining."
Aelan didn't argue and got to work. As he scrubbed the deck, muffled voices reached his ears. He recognized Captain Olivel's voice, but the other speaker was unfamiliar. Yet, it was obvious this was someone important.
Aelan, pretending to continue working, listened closely.
"Are you sure the memory will work?" said a rough voice, belonging to the second man.
"Yes, Roswuld. It will protect us from the curse of age. Time won't touch us until we reach the well," Olivel replied calmly.
"Ha. You think that's the only danger ahead?" Roswuld's voice was skeptical. "We're sailing to a place of legends. No one knows what monsters lurk in those waters."
"You fear the unknown too much," Olivel noted.
"You know that's not an option."
"Anything that stands in the way of a wish is a trial," Olivel concluded.
Time passed, and the crew continued their duties. Several days went by, and nothing seemed amiss…
---
One night, Aelan abruptly woke to a violent jolt. The deck tilted, nearly capsizing the ship. Distant screams filled the air, the sounds of rushing footsteps echoing across the vessel. Everyone was running to the deck.
Aelan followed, then froze.
Ahead, towering over the crew, stood Roswuld. His figure was wrapped in a mystical glow, and his body shimmered with azure armor, as if sculpted from pure ice. In his hand, he held a long spear resembling a harpoon, glowing with a blue radiance.
The wind howled, the waves roared, and from the depths, something massive rose.
A Kraken.
Massive tentacles rose above the water, casting enormous shadows over the ship. The sea monster's eyes glowed in the darkness, filled with hunger and ancient fury. The storm raged with renewed force, threatening to swallow the vessel in a vortex of chaos.
Aelan clenched his fists. Now he understood—the nightmare had only just begun.
Roswuld transformed into rays of light that swirled around the Kraken, slicing through the creature's flesh and leaving deep wounds. Each time his light pierced the sea beast, it roared, violently lashing its tentacles against the water's surface.
Olivel, realizing the danger, shouted:
"Hold on, everyone! Defend the ship!"
From the depths, drowned men began to rise—withered, decayed corpses obeying the Kraken's will. They clambered onto the deck, their hollow eye sockets glowing with an eerie light.
Aelan quickly scanned the deck for a weapon. By the railing, he spotted a barrel filled with fishing harpoons. He grabbed one, clenched his teeth, and hurled it at the nearest drowned man. The sharp tip pierced the creature's neck, pinning it to the mast. The thing twitched, letting out a ghastly wheeze, then fell still.
Out of the corner of his eye, Aelan saw Grindewald summon his memory—a colossal hammer. In an instant, his body was covered in a layer of stone, transforming him into a towering three-meter colossus. He charged into battle, bringing his weapon down upon one of the Kraken's tentacles. The strike was devastating—chunks of flesh scattered across the deck as the beast bellowed in pain.
Meanwhile, Olivel and the remaining sailors struggled to hold back the swarm of drowned men. There were too many. The crew fought desperately, but one by one, they were falling.
Roswuld fought differently. His luminous attacks turned into swift blades, slicing through the Kraken's hide. He moved quickly, skillfully dodging the monster's strikes. Grindewald, on the other hand, relied on brute strength—each of his blows was powerful but slightly slower. Suddenly, one of the massive tentacles slammed onto the deck with such force that the ship groaned under the impact. A massive wave crashed over the vessel, nearly capsizing it.
Aelan kept fighting, but his style was different. He didn't just strike—he felt the rhythm of battle, predicting his enemies' movements. He was cold, precise, and relentless, like a predator that couldn't afford to make a single mistake.
Amid the chaos, Olivel slipped away unnoticed, disappearing into the cabins.
The Kraken was unimaginably strong. Even with their combined efforts, Roswuld and Grindewald couldn't defeat it. Suddenly, the creature let out a low, reverberating growl, and another tentacle slammed into the water. The impact sent another towering wave surging over the ship. Sailors clung desperately to whatever they could, but some were simply swept overboard.
Aelan, yanking his harpoon from the skull of another drowned man, saw that the weapon had snapped. He could no longer fight with it. He called out to the others:
"I need a new weapon!"
He dashed toward the cabins, hoping to find anything useful. But as he burst inside, he realized there was nothing. At that moment, the ship shuddered from another powerful blow. The wall behind him cracked, splintered, and exploded into fragments, sending Aelan sprawling to the floor.
The last thing he heard before darkness claimed him was the Kraken's chilling roar and the sound of the ship breaking apart.