Near the border between Tolemac's barrier and the Lost Forest, a certain mercenary company got closer and closer to their destination.
Indeed, having left no trace of themselves at the spot that had been their campsite, they resumed their march as soon as daybreak. There was no time to waste for them.
Spearheading their formation was the Argent and while she seemed completely focused on what was in front of her, the truth was that part of her mind was somewhere else.
Somewhere all too familiar for her.
She was thinking...of a certain dream.
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Imagine dreaming of dying your whole life.
Yeah, not kidding.
Imagine having that dream since you became conscious of said dreams.
Or maybe...even before.
Heh, mother did say that I used to cry a lot when I was baby. So, there's that.
Still...it is not a pleasant thing.
Dreaming of being bound.
Dreaming of feeling weak.
Dreaming of being drowned...suffocated...
Dreaming of death getting closer and closer...
And that sound...
That Goddess damned incessant sound!
It's muffled by the haziness of the dream and yet it pierces my ears regardless.
It doesn't stop.
And for some reason...a part of me doesn't want it to stop.
Just like I feel an uncontrollable need to move one of my hands.
To reach out to someone and I do.
I can't feel their touch, but I know they are there.
I can't understand the sounds that are coming out of my mouth, but I know that I'm talking to someone.
To...her.
The Nightmare.
She glares at me with those lifeless eyes and unmoving expression.
Am I begging for my life?
No.
I would never do something like that.
Am I asking for mercy?
It doesn't seem like that.
Then what?
Of what do I speak with the woman whose unfeeling gaze is so fixed upon me?
I...don't know.
But what I do know without knowing how or why, is that ever since that day at Garcés' office I can see her face clearly in my dream.
Gone was the shadowy silhouette that had stood in her place for all these years and then, other things started to change too as I...
As we...marched deeper and deeper into the Lost Forest.
In only three nights the dreams have become clearer in some ways.
That incessant sound is less muffled and is higher pitched.
My eyes no longer see just foggy shadows apart from the Nightmare.
There's a trace of...white to it.
YOU ARE READING
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