SBI - His Curse of Binding

23

Tommy didn't know where he was or how he got here.

He woke up in some sort of temple or palace that was older than Philza Minecraft himself. Ancient alabaster carvings of men in fustanella skirts and carrying pottery surrounded him on the sandstone walls. Yellow pillars held up the red sculptured archways. His neck hurt to see the roof with how high up it went. Inklings of gold patterns plastered the ceiling, mixed with limestone. The room he was in looked like some sort of ballroom.

He stepped forward and the movement echoed throughout the construction. He looked down, confused at how his bare feet made such a sound, and the pattern on the floor confused him even more. He had seen that somewhere before. The ten blue circles with white diamonds, the four black circles and rectangular details coated in gold. The realisation struck him as he noticed the bricked layout between the two different coloured circles.

It was the Knossos Board. That stupid game Dream kept forcing him to play. Below his feet was the River Styx, the boundary that separated the world of the living from the world of the dead. A shudder violated his spine.

Where the fuck was he?

The Knossos Board pattern pointed in the direction towards the gated doors on the other side of the ballroom. He moved closer and leaned down, peering through the gap. Tall brick walls with vines growing along them stood in that locked room. He frowned and pushed forward but a voice stopped him from opening it.

"Stay away from that door, Tommy."

He twisted around and Dream sat on a table that wasn't there before. He looked between the now unlocked door and the God.

"I mean it, Tommy," Dream reinforced. "It's dangerous in there."

He spared another glance at the brick walls, the sight bugging him—there was a sense of familiarity but he couldn't place it.

Dream's chair scratched against the floor and Tommy rolled his eyes at his dramatics as he sat down opposite him.

His mask had more blood stained onto it than the last visit; there was a spec of gold in there as well. It was ichor, the blood of the Gods.

Dream perceived his gaze and wiped the golden marks off it with his cloak. There was a book on the table with the title Catullus sixty-four, the rest was written in Ancient Greek.

Silence filled the empty ballroom. Tommy's legs bounced against the floor, preparing himself for what this visit meant. Yet, Dream didn't say a word.

"Why is Wilbur beginning to remember?" he asked, wanting this shit-fest to at least be useful.

Dream leaned forward, his shoulders hunched, almost protectively. "That's- that's not possible."

"Oh?" he tilted his head in mocked disbelief. "Well, apparently it fucking is."

"No, Tommy." Dream shook his head. "That's not supposed to happen."

He glared at the God, the urgency and denial in his tone bothered him. He wasn't used to Dream displaying such vulnerability. He had only heard this from him once, during exile, when the conditioned response Dream had ingrained in him slipped for a moment.

His eyes darkened. "Is this just another reason why this life is so exciting for you? Let's watch Tommy get attached to another person he looks to as an older brother and rip it away from him!" he shouted, vexation on his tongue. "Let's make the person he's grown to love remember the man who ruined it for him."

"Tommy, believe me, that's not—"

"I can't believe you! Not after everything you've done to me. How hard is it for you to understand that?" he pushed against the table, the chair propelling backwards. He hated how centuries had passed in this void, years of him screaming for answers until he collapsed onto the floor and woke up with tears in his eyes. And now was the time Dream finally gave him answers. But he couldn't trust it, he couldn't trust him. Not after everything Dream had done for him.