Three Futures Enslaved | Dream Team

Chapter Nine

Dream managed to conjure up more and more names as time went on.

He already had "George", the name he heard when he woke up. That name was associated with the brown-haired man who had been sitting next to him that day, with his white goggles and fluffy-looking hair and startled features. 

The name "Sapnap" was associated with a man he could vaguely remember, though it was fuzzy. Black hair, a white shirt, a black cape, but when he tried to focus on the guy's face, the image disappeared. 

There were more. Halo, Ant, Ghost --- all names he felt like he'd be able to remember on instinct because of how unique they were. Compared to "George", those should've been embedded in his memory forever.

But Dream didn't have even the faintest clue what they looked like. If any one of them showed up one day and announced themselves, Dream wouldn't be able to recognize them at all.

The thought annoyed him. He'd finally been able to recall names, but the names had no meaning without a face to go along with them. Each name, however, brought about a feeling with it. Warmth, kindness... fear.

That last emotion encompassed many. Sorrow, anger, confusion --- they were all attributed with the same name. Though, if he was being honest, most of the names brought sorrow. 

I must've been a really sad person, Dream reflected, feeling detached. How unfortunate.

Sometimes, the name that brought anger and confusion and fear would pop into his mind suddenly, bringing about a wave of uncertainty. More than once, he'd found himself half-consciously arming himself with simple household items; a rock, a shoe, once, even a knife from the kitchen.

It bothered Azalea most of all. "You're going to poke me with something serious one day," she grumbled. But underneath the sarcasm, Dream could see the very real worry lining her features.

When Dream began talking more, he started asking her about her name. He'd seen images in her books of the type of flower she was named after. It was a pretty, pink flower, sometimes lined with white, that grew on bushes during the warmer seasons, though he couldn't remember seeing any before. Maybe they had bloomed more in her home kingdom, wherever that was. 

Azalea only laughed when he brought it up. "So curious, little muet. There's no fancy story to my name. I suppose my parents just liked it."

So he moved onto her family symbol: the black half moon. Like always, Azalea just shook her head at his questioning. "Ask my ancestors. They're the ones who had to go and make our House emblem some weird half circle."

Dream himself didn't know his own family emblem. Maybe in his old life he'd had one, but as with everything, he couldn't recall. It was aggregating. Everything felt so tantalizingly close, yet just barely out of reach.

He'd written down all the names and pieces he could remember in a little paper book Azalea had given him. She'd been a bit late; he'd already scrawled all over the walls by that point. The book was simply a repeat of all the things he had inked onto the white walls of his room, but still, he was grateful for it. He'd be able to carry it around with him. Just in case he forgot again --- as unlikely as that was.

But every time he turned to the first page, where one name stood out in bold, biting graphite, he couldn't help but shudder.

Peligro.

***

A week passed by like the slow crawl of amber trickling down a tree. Dream had regained his voice completely, but even so, he still kept to himself most of the time. 

"You can talk now," Azalea complained. "Come on, tell me some cool stories about you."

Dream shrugged. "I don't know any stories about myself."

"That's just sad." Azalea hesitated, then sighed. "I'm sorry, I know this is hard. I know I shouldn't push you. But it'll help you to learn about your past."

He frowned, feeling suddenly defensive for absolutely no reason. Azalea pursed her lips. "Dream... sometimes, people make bad mistakes. Everyone does it. It's best to acknowledge and accept such mistakes and move forward."

"I thought people always said you should never to forget your mistakes."

Azalea tapped at her forehead. "I never said you should, either. I simply said you should move forward with them. You should always hold your errors and blunders close to your heart. The past is here for us to learn from it, not to continue falling in the same footsteps."

She sounded sad. Half-consciously, Dream's finger drifted down to the intricate scars around his forearm. "What are your mistakes?" he asked, then immediately regretted it.

But Azalea didn't seem angry. "I've made loads," she said with a slight laugh. "Guess I'm not learning from them as well as I say, am I?"

She reached out and adjusted his winter cloak. Her fingers lingered on the golden clasp for a second, then continued smoothing out the fabric. Dream watched her, his frown still stuck on his face. "Azalea..." he began hesitantly. "What's the name of your family House?"

Azalea's hand jerked back. A guarded look crossed her features as she stared at Dream, processing his question. "S-sorry," he said hurriedly, mentally cursing himself for his stupidity. "I didn't mean to upset you. I--- I'm sorry."

The woman sighed. "It's okay. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did."

Seeing that he wasn't in trouble, Dream's curiosity returned. "Is there bad history with your family House?" he ventured.

His green eyes met Azalea's pale blue ones. To his surprise, they were full of anger, and even though he knew it wasn't directed towards him, he couldn't help but flinch away.

"My family is a greatly misunderstood one," she said, tapping her finger on the side of her leg. "We were a royal family, once. A kingdom bore our name. We were a force to be reckoned with."

"What happened?"

Azalea sighed, her expression dark. "My family was overthrown by the villagers. Their own knights turned against them, driven by mutiny and desire. They accused my family of dark magics and drove them right out of their own kingdom. It was dangerous to wear my House symbol."

Dream's frown returned. "But... you lent it to me."

"This was all a long time ago," Azalea said. "Only scholars and people with deep resentment and grudges know of my family's name now. It's much safer in the streets nowadays." She shrugged and offered Dream a crooked smile. "Besides, people care far more about looks and beauty than what the old name of your ancestors is. Right, Mr. Handsome?"

Dream blushed. Azalea grinned at him, but her smile faded soon. "How about your family? Do you remember them much?"

He shook his head. "No. I don't think I ever did, actually." He perked up. "I hope I had a sister, maybe even two. Sisters would be so much nicer than having a brother." Like you. I wish you were my sister.

 Azalea patted him on the arm. "Good for you. You need more women in your life."

Her grin resurfaced. Unable to help himself, Dream grinned back. Something about that smile of hers was just too contagious to resist. 

But he had been lying. He did remember a bit about his family in his past life. And that name that haunted him so much, the one that filled him with dread, the one he saw every time he opened the little paper book --- it belonged to his very own brother.