Volmerian Dreams

Dream State

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The bright lights of the bustling city glare harshly against my dark brown eyes, casting sharp shadows as the cacophony of zipping vehicles fills the air overhead.

My heart pounds in my chest as I struggle to focus, my vision blurred as I make out the looming silhouettes of giant Volmerian soldiers rushing towards me, their weapons gleaming ominously in the dim light.

With a surge of panic, I drop to my knees, instinctively shielding my head with trembling hands as the soldiers thunder past, their heavy footsteps echoing like thunder around me.

For what feels like an eternity, I remain huddled on the ground, the deafening roar of the stampede drowning out all other sound, until finally, mercifully, the noise begins to fade.

And then, just when I fear I can endure no more, I awake with a gasp, the remnants of fear still clinging to me like a heavy cloak.

It was only a dream, thank the Gods.

3:49 pm.

As I gradually stirred awake, the remnants of my dream clung to my mind like cobwebs, leaving me disoriented and dazed.

"Oh my… what a dream…" I murmured, pushing myself upright in bed and rubbing my head softly, as if trying to massage away the lingering traces of the nightmare.

While I had never actually lived in the city, I had heard enough stories to know its reputation.

People whispered about the dreaded "Marching Hour," a time when it was practically forbidden to venture outside from seven to eight in the evening.

During this hour, the streets were said to be overrun by Volmerian soldiers, marching in a formidable mob that instilled fear in the hearts of all who witnessed it.

It was tales like these that fueled the nightmares that often plagued my sleep, serving as a stark reminder of the dangers lurking beyond the safety of my rural home on the outskirts of Volmeria.

My little town, Eta Selva, provided a sanctuary of simplicity amidst the chaos of the city.

With its small population and close-knit community, life here was refreshingly uncomplicated.

Each evening, I would make my way to the "Bar of Eta Selva" for work, serving drinks to locals and travelers alike before returning home in the late hours of the night to tend to my garden under the watchful gaze of the moon.

It was a routine that brought me comfort and stability in a world fraught with uncertainty.

Sighing softly, I glanced at the digital clock beside my bed. "Three…" I muttered, rubbing my temples as if trying to dispel the lingering grogginess that clung to me like a heavy blanket.

With a languid stretch, I slid my legs off the edge of the bed and reached for my slippers, feeling the cool floor beneath my feet as I shuffled towards the bedroom door.

Pushing it open, I was greeted by the warm glow of the Volmerian sun streaming through the kitchen, where my roommate Ryan stood, a picture of domesticity.

"Afternoon, sleepin' beauty," Ryan chuckled, her southern accent lending a musical lilt to her words.

Ryan was a vision of southern charm, her warm smile instantly putting me at ease.

"Come sit, I've made ya some toast before ya head off," she offered, gesturing towards the table where a plate of freshly toasted bread awaited.

"Thank you, Ryan," I replied gratefully, sinking into a chair and covering my mouth to stifle a yawn, a habit born out of consideration for my roommate's sensitive nose.

"Soooo… I reckon you haven't seen the news lately, huh?" Ryan asks, pushing around some plated scrambled eggs with her fork, her southern drawl infusing the words with a familiar warmth.

"No, I have not," I reply, sloppily chomping on my toast as I take in her words.

"Well, I know you ain't big on city life, but it seems they're doin' some sorta recruiting for the Volmerian army,"
she says with a mischievous giggle, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Oh really? Recruiting soldiers?" I inquire, setting down my toast and wiping my mouth with a napkin, suddenly intrigued by the conversation.

"I dunno. Could be soldiers, cooks, medics… whatever," she responds nonchalantly, her attention already shifting back to her breakfast.

"Well, not my problem!" I declare cheerily, carrying my dish to the sink and rinsing it off before placing it in the dishwasher.

"Hey, I won't be home tonight—" Ryan shouts after me as I make my way to my bedroom.

"I have a date!" she adds, her voice trailing off as she disappears into her room.

Sick, house to myself tonight.

I slip into my normal work attire, a tight black dress that falls just below my behind, paired with some sturdy boots and a delicate pearl necklace.

It's nothing fancy, but I like to look my best for the regulars at the bar—a motley crew of perverted old men who may not be the nicest bunch, but they sure do pay the bills.

"Alright, I'm off," I announce, grabbing my purse and heading towards the door.

"I'll see ya tomorrow, Ryan. Good luck!" I call out with a playful wink, the excitement of the night ahead already starting to build within me.

"See ya, Sugar," Ryan replies, sending me off with a slap on the ass and a giggle, her laughter echoing in my ears as I step out into the quiet streets of Eta Selva.

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