Solace

2. Solace

Every night, the same grotesque scene plays out.

A shuddering sigh escapes my parched lips as I claw my way back to consciousness. My heart, a frantic hammer still echoing in my chest, throws a tremor through my entire body. The lingering taste of terror hangs heavy on my tongue, a metallic tang that refuses to be rinsed away.

This wretched nightmare has won over me once again.

Frustration bubbles up alongside the receding terror. Despite knowing what awaits me after I close my eyes, I can't help but wake up drenched in my own sweat every single time.

I feel trapped, oppressed by the power of a mere dream that, although unreal, somehow manages to take over my life.

Mash knows something's wrong. I can feel the weight of her worried gaze on me even when I'm not looking.

Still, I'm not going to tell her anything.
Every time I think about her unwavering loyalty, a fierce affection wells up inside me, a bittersweet ache that tightens my throat. She's always so supportive, a beacon of light in the growing darkness, and the last thing I want to do is add another burden to her soulders.

Besides, it's just a dream.
Why make her worry over something that is not even real?

Yet, this time, something feels slightly distorted. A heavy weight sits on my chest, a leaden anchor dragging me down. I can't shake the feeling of still being trapped, the horrific landscape of the dream clinging to the edges of my vision.

The others are sleeping soundly around me, their rhythmic breaths a strange kind of lullaby that seems to comfort me a little, somehow.

A reckless thought suddenly flickers to life, a naively hopeful wish: maybe a certain someone is still awake too.
Seeing them, even for a mere moment, might chase away the shadows clinging to me.

But then the comforting desire crumbles under the harsh glare of reality. He's a leader already burdened with the weight of his city, and I doubt he'd appreciate my boring late-night company.

Yeah, probably best not to bother them.

Except...

The next thing I know, my feet are leading me towards the towering ziggurat, through the silent streets of the sleeping town. The city, usually a bustling hive of activity, lays shrouded in an eerie quiet. Without men loudly working together, women buying colorful groceries and light-hearted kids playing on the corner of the streets, it looks like a plain shadow of the real city.
It's unsettling, a hollow echo of its usual vibrancy. Yet, there's a strange kind of peace to it too, a hushed silence that both intrigues and unnerves me.

Before I can even question my impulsive actions, I find myself standing before the ziggurat's imposing entrance. The guards look like they could fall asleep at any moment, their wide yawns punctuated by the clinking of their armor. They barely spare me a glance as I slip past them, a silent ghost in the night.

Approaching the throne room, a wave of regret washes over me.

Stupid idea.

He'll probably throw me out on my ear. He's got more important things to do than babysit a troubled Master. After all, I'm just some nobody who stumbled into his life, a speck of dust compared to the legendary hero he is.

But it's too late to go back, my noisy footsteps reveal my presence.

"Show yourself." He states. The king is sitting on his throne, his hands full of documents.

A single lantern casts a dim glow on the room, illuminating the endless stacks of the to-be-read reports.

I shuffle forward, hesitant and small.