Imperium

Chapter 18: Better Than the Dreams

One month later.

"We all need to wake up eventually and face reality. It's time you do too." ...

... "Let's see how far you can bend before you break." ...

"It's Cree."

"We are descendants of Ophelia Dev'mar Angevell. The founder of the Dev'al Ordon."

"What I hate is seeing you cry."

... "See you on the other side."

"Farewell, Regan."

Everything is a dark haze of nothingness swirling around his head, echoing words fill his ears and give him fear, love, hatred and comfort. None of it makes sense, yet somehow it's also perfectly clear. Like a question that he knows at the back of his mind lies the answer, but he forces it down, letting the emptiness drown it out just so he can keep holding onto that comfort, if only for a little bit longer.

Part of him wants to stay that way. Just to stay there in the dark haze and dream of better things. Of home. Of his family and friends. Of his innocence that he feels was pried away from him too soon, despite the years of life behind him. He knows he has to let go, but deep down it terrifies him. Not the ground that he'll inevitably hit, but the fall itself.

So he holds on with every force of will that he has. But the longer he holds on, the more terrifying the fall becomes.

But still, he clings to the last threads of himself he has left.

Regan groans as he rolls himself over on his side, feeling his cheek press against a cold stone ground, but his face is warmed by a light orange glow in front of him. His body is covered in what feels like a blanket, but he recognizes the scent and feel of leather, telling him it's more likely a jacket.

He grips the rim of the coat unconsciously, his face tightening as he slowly starts to regain feeling in his body but not wanting to return to reality. He just wants to stay dreaming, but when he hears the heavy footsteps of leather boots approaching, he realizes he probably doesn't have much of a choice but to wake up.

He attentively blinks his eyes open to see a campfire set up in front of him. A log drops onto the burning pile and his eyes quickly dodge up just in time to see Cree crouch down by the fire, warming his hands and looking over to see that Regan is awake, and he smiles.

"Ah, so you are alive. I was starting to worry," he says quietly.

Regan shakily pushes himself to sit up and look around. "...Where are we?"

"I think it's some abandoned house or something. I woke up first in an alley. The sun was goin' down and it was already fuckin' freezing, so I brought you and Reela to the closest empty place I could find."

Regan then looks over at the other side of the fire to see a bundle of blankets with a mess of long white hair poking out through the top, and the soft snoring that's muffled beneath the entangling covers.

Seeing the girl safe and peacefully asleep allows some small part of himself to relax, but it's not much. He can feel his heart starting to race but he tries to fight it, making his breathing a little heavier.

"...Where are we? Are we really in Eutria?"

Cree shrugs. "I guess. No way in hell is this Aramora. So either we're in Eutria, or we really stepped through a time machine to before County Dominion was wiped out. I took a look around the city, but I didn't go far. All I learned is that this city is called Tratend."