The Dreamer's Epilogue-Chapter 36: God’s cursed attention

Chapter 36 – God’s cursed attention

Sitting on the edge of his bed, his head buried deep inside his cupped palms, Emrys took the time to waft away the lingering emotions of the dream.

His chest was tight with sadness, but with the subtle breathing of the Way of Wind fluttering inside him, he eventually managed to calm down.

Finally, he raised his head, only to see Meadow standing at his doorstep, leaning her left shoulder on the door.

She watched him with a smile, but this time there was something in that smile — a kind of sorrow or even worry.

Emrys couldn’t tell. And he was not that motivated to study the visage of someone to know their exact emotions.

"It’s already time?" He asked, his voice weaker than what he thought.

However, Meadow didn’t comment on it. Neither did she comment about how red and tired his eyes were.

"Yes," Meadow whispered. "Climber Hound is waiting for you to depart. However..."

She paused, looking deeply into him before finally,

"I am sure she wouldn’t mind waiting — huh — maybe one more hour?"

She smiled with her eyes. "She is gentle. She definitely wouldn’t."

"I know she wouldn’t." Emrys said, laughing lightly, his chest warming a bit as someone cared about him. "But I would."

"Why?"

He pushed himself up, popped his neck, sighing softly to release the tension built in his chest. "I don’t want us to waste time because of me. It’s better if we go before Old Bones fails in his protection quest."

"With what you two have prepared yesterday night," Meadow drawled, "It’s really unlikely."

"But not impossible."

"Well, dear Climber Frost, I doubt there is one thing certain at 100%."

Emrys tilted his head. "Not even death?"

Meadow paused, then shrugged. "That, I don’t know. Vorn’s gaze away from us. I wouldn’t wish to see him close. Yet He is everywhere. Harud’s Light around us!"

"Vorn...?"

It was not the first time he had heard about that name. He had heard it a lot during his past dream. He managed to guess his identity by now, but Emrys wanted to be sure.

And indeed,

"The Lord of Death." Meadow’s face crunched. "The most followed god. Ah, well, I guess Death is just that important in our life?"

"It certainly is." He answered, wearing his boots. "How many gods are there?"

"Many."

"Do one need to follow one of them?"

"No." Meadow shook her head. "Most High Houses don’t follow them, but some do. It depends on your situation. Though, sometimes you have no choice."

Emrys lifted his head at that. "No choice?"

Meadow grinned strangely. "The gods never let go of those they put their sight on, dear Climber Frost. How many times did battles occur because two gods wished the same being for their Champion or Knight? Too many, dear, too many."

"Is that bad?" He began to feel a tingling of danger inside him.

Meadow shrugged. "For them, maybe not." Her face fell. "But for us, mortals?"

She sighed. "Just like the Tales of The Wanderer has quoted: Gods on mortal world left trails of blood."

She stopped there, not going further. And there was no need to. Emrys understood well enough by then.

He shook his head gingerly, then stood up, finally ready.

"Well," he began walking towards Meadow, "I pray to never be part of that, then."

She looked at him intensely, then smiled strangely.

"Yes, I pray that, too, dear Climber Frost. However..."

She barred his way as he was about to stride out. Looking deep into him, she whispered,

"...Never stop dancing. Do you remember that?"

"I do."

"Always do, then." She nodded, lightly dusted his chest, then whirled herself outward before walking away.

Emrys stood there for a moment, then followed.

’Never stop dancing....’

Somehow, the meaning was starting to unveil itself.

He smiled, and continued. At the back of his mind, Emrys wondered about that young boy.

Jurkil Julaibib.

’Tribe of Hushu? I am getting curious.’

But also anxious.

...

Meanwhile, inside the World of Premier, in a small inn inside the village of Yoru, a man just woke up from a strange dream.

’Dream...Dream...dream...’ the man muttered, sitting on his bed, his face wearing a gentle smile.

A small herb was adorned on his black shirt for all to see. A green-tinged one.

He was quite old-looking, around 40 or so, with red hair coupled with a streak of white and deep pure red eyes.

It was a wonder to see such eyes in a 40-year-old man. For those were eyes only children could bear.

’I dreamed of something...’ the man whispered, ’of someone...’

After a moment of searching inside his mind, the man slowly got up from the bed, forgetting what he was even thinking.

He finally turned around, looking around.

’Vorn’s breath, where am I again? Lost? Oh, I am getting late for my sister, aren’t I? I hope she will forgive me.’

He smiled hopefully. He refreshed himself and walked down the stairs, reaching an open ground that was a small restaurant.

There were beings already there, sitting on tables ringed with chairs all over. However, the moment he arrived, all of them fell silent and looked at him intensely.

"Old man!" Someone shouted instantly. It was from a young boy, around 15 or so, looking at him with unmasked joy.

"Will you play with us today, too?" He asked, hopeful.

Jurkil tilted his head, then smiled openly. "Of course, I like to play with my peers!" He laughed. "But why old man? I am 12 years old. I am younger than you. Do I maybe look old? Vorn’s breath, don’t let my sister hear that! She would mock me!"

He joked, not realizing the pitiful, yet gentle look people were giving him.

He didn’t wait for the answer of the boy as he walked towards the counter. Jurkil sat on a chair, facing the bartender who was a beautiful woman with silver hair.

"Hello, I am Jurkil—!"

"Julaibib. Jurkil Julaibib of the Blessed Tribe of Hushu." The woman completed, smiling sadly. "I know you. Do you want your special drink with honey and milk?"

"You know me!" He exclaimed. "You even know what I drink. Wonderful. Yes please, beautiful lady."

He bowed his head in respect.

The silver woman winced, not yet used to this despite it not being the first time.

It was the 12th time.

She sighed, then went inside to prepare it.

Jurkil was left there, sitting, his mind thinking on something inside of him.

Minutes later, the bartender came back, bringing him what he ordered. However, Jurkil looked at it, and around him in sudden surprise,

"Oh...Where am I?" He whispered, then looked at the drink. "Oh, this drink...how do you know my favorite drink? Are you gifting me this?"

He smiled pleasantly, looking at her with hope.

The bartender and all those around felt their hearts go cold. It was not the first time. But it always felt like the first time.

And just like always,

"Of course, it’s a gift!" The bartender said with false excitement. "So drink fast before it gets cold, young boy!"

"Hahah, thanks! I promise I will pay you back, gentle lady! I only have a herb?" He pointed at the herb tugged on his shirt. "But it’s for my sister. I will come back here to repay, okay? I promise."

"Yes yes yes, I know, drink fast!"

Jurkil nodded, began to drink like a child with a foolishly happy smile.

People began to talk once more, hushed words whispered here and there.

Then suddenly, Jurkil stopped after hearing someone’s words behind him. He turned to look at a group of old men with big but worn out weapons beside them.

Everyone looked at him.

"Something’s wrong?" The bartender asked.

He was silent for a moment, but then...

"I am sorry, but what did you just say?"

"What?" One of them growled.

"You...you said something about a Queen..."

"Queen of Dreams?"

Jurkil’s eyes brightened. "Yes!" He nodded. "Who is that?"

"The most recent Crowned." The bartender answered. "The Queen of the newly Ascendant House of Dreams. Why, Jurkil?"

"Dreams...dreams...dreams..."

He grinned, his mind thinking of the blurry but quite memorable person in his dream. And at that, something sprouted inside his mind as Jurkil parted his lips,

"How to join the Ascendant House?"

—End of Chapter 36—