Chapter 12 Echoes

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Ryan looked at the gem that lay in his hand. It seemed out of place in it, with the grime and filth that covered his palm. It seemed an ancient relic not fit to be carelessly given to some commoner like him. And this was meant to be some key to a job that he did not intend to go on at all. Not now. At least. He didn't like the look of that prince, he had the face of someone who knew too many things. You just can't trust anyone like that, let alone do what they say on purpose. But even so, why is he holding it now? Why isn't it back in his pouch? And why can't he sleep?

Ryan's senses does that sometimes, keep him up and alarm him at the slightest hint of danger. It was a bother but has saved his life before, so he has learned to trust it. But this time, he did not understand it. He sensed nothing, no aura, no tricks or traps. It was just a gem, right? He sighed, clutching it once before setting it under his pillow. He'll have to go to sleep at some point. Just then, though, Avery stirred beside him. Thankfully, she did not awake, but it would be inevitable with all of them bundled this close together. Hopefully, when they did the attic, it would provide more space for beds. Now at least the younger kids had a better place to sleep than a cot on the floor. He sighed, giving pause to extend his senses out. To step into that void of avra, he could sense all nearbye, down to the termites infesting the rafters and critters drawn by the indoors. Zeke was at least home in the next room over, fallen asleep at the kitchen table after finally returning home. He had been moving crates at the dock all day, so he was allowed the drink as a victory lap. Outside the house, a pedestrian or two roamed the streets. But something was off about them, he could see. Their aura was different. Usually, the blue hues that encompassed his vision were just that, but theirs was a bit warmer looking than what he would usually see, almost an indigo or purple color. He didn't know what to make of it, but they didn't seem threatening either, so let it go. He needed some sleep.

When he closed his eyes, he found it remarkably easy to forfeit himself into the unconscious. Easier than it has ever been in years. As soon as his head hit the cot, and he gave the slightest effort, he was asleep, and darkness enveloped him. But then, something strange happened. That driving into sleep seemed to stop mid-way, forcefully. Like he was signing tight to an anchor that pulled him in a different direction in the immaterial world. And instead of just some passive sleep, he was met with an infinite expansion of black nothingness before him. He was aware. He was conscious, yet not. He looked down at himself, still wearing the rugged and worn clothing he had before. But the pendant was sold his neck now. He lived his sleeves up to see the black bands on either arm, six in total. But now they seemed to write and nice across his skin, like rolling water.

"What's going on." His words echoed within him before reflecting off of nothing.

"It would seem we have come to an interesting situation," came a silky voice behind him. He jumped, reaching for blades that were not on him. There stood a man. A tall man almost twice his height. He seemed non-threatening, but Ryan knew better than to relax when anyone could just suddenly appear within his senses like that. His long silver hair lay flowing down either shoulder. His robes seemed both a part of him and formless, dissipating to smoke at its edges and only revealing bare arms and feet. He looked sullen, with pale, thin skin and beady eyes. But there was also something regal to him. He seemed to regard Ryan with a mix between patience and ease. "Do not be so alarmed. I know that this must be jarring. I do not know why he has yet to explain the circumstances, but I suppose that is why they sent me."

Ryan did not like how casual he was being. "Who . . . How are you? What have you come to my dreams."

"Nothing nefarious, I promise you," he raised a hand to gesture his lack of malice. "I am a god, Zagreus to be precise. A being birthed from the concepts of death in our reality. I believe you have met the young prince. This place here is of no small matter, I can assure you. I'm afraid Fate has found the use of you, boy. Dark forces from your past have resurfaced."

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