Descendants of the Myth

Chapter 5 - Too Much and Too Many

Chapter 5 - Too Much and Too Many

Normally, humans weren't supposed to remember so many dreams in a week.

But for Devon, remembering his dreams came naturally ever since his parents' deaths.

This time he was in his old home, inside the cupboard, looking innocent, while his mom was locking the cupboard with him inside.

"Be quiet, okay?" His mom soothed him, caressing his cheek as she wiped away the tears in his eyes.

His younger self nodded, unaware of what was happening. His mom was crying, and it was one of the most heartbreaking things he saw in his entire life.

A slam was heard from one of the rooms upstairs, which made his mom whimper and look up.

"Tell him!" the voice of his father boomed from upstairs. "Tell him where to go, Ericka!"

His mom whimpered as if she was in pain before she looked at him again.

"Go to the Council," she told him, cupping his cheeks using both of her hands, "If someone else comes in, and asks you where you came from, tell them that you were from the Dion and Ericka Price, okay? The deal will protect you. And they will bring you with them. You'll be safe."

Devon's younger self nodded, not completely understanding what his mom was talking about. His bright blue eyes were innocent, and there were tears still tears on the brim of his eyes. His mom leaned in, giving him a kiss on the forehead that seemed to calm him down.

He closed his eyes in slight bliss. And when he opened them, he was on a totally different place.

He was clutching on a woman's clothes, who Devon realized soon was Nyx, as they stood in the middle of a circular room.

It was a huge dome, probably five to ten times larger than their house. The entire place was made of silver. Its tiled floor was also made of silver tiles, clear enough that it made quite a reflection of himself when he looked down.

Symbols and drawings decorated the silver wall up until the huge circular roof above. And most of the symbols, he didn't recognize at all.

Around them, was a large U-shaped table, like a silver horseshoe. At some points of the table, there were people that stood behind it. They wore different attires, different colors, like they were from different cultures.

They all had thoughtful look in their faces, with their eyes trained on him.

Devon didn't know who Nyx was during that time. But something about the woman looked so caring and dare he say it, kind. And after what happened that night, he still hadn't recovered from the trauma of what he was lucky to not see.

He needed a rock right now. And Nyx looked okay with sharing hers.

"So, tell me, Lady Nyx. Who is our audience for today?" A man suddenly spoke. The man stood behind the center of the table. He had dark green eyes and dark brown hair, with a beard on his face.

He looked kind, but Devon didn't want to risk it.

"He is Devon Mitchell Price," Nyx replied, "Son of Dion and Ericka Price. Human, on both sides."

"And the reason why you brought a human audience to us is..." The man pressed, trailing off in the end, waiting for Nyx to finish the thought.

"Humans are not tied to the Ancient Laws as much as the gods do, Lionel," Nyx began, "That is the reason why gods use heroes to defeat their enemies."

"And so?" the man, Lionel, Devon assumed, asked.

"As we all know a strange event will happen in a few years," said Nyx, "And it will stir some of the most heinous monsters in all of the Universes. We need heroes, Lionel.  As part of the Spirit Council we all need to know that."