(BOOK 1 in the Ermand Chisel series)
Since the time he had remembered, Ermand had to frequently encounter a series of sinister and blood-curdling dreams, and they weren't merely nightmares. When he receives an invitation to join Agledon Magic Univer...
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Ermand found himself in a deserted place. There was no sign of wind, vegetation and not even the sun, though a glint of light illuminated his path. He was barefoot as he trudged, the ground beneath him cold as ice. Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching him that echoed an unexpected warning. He immediately turned toward the source.
A young man in his late teens dashed in Ermand's direction. Something focused away his widened eyes from Ermand. His colour faded clothes were ripped, and had bloody scars and cuts on his face, drenching him along with sweat. Even amid utter darkness, it was impossible for Ermand to not recognize who it was.
"Hey Jack! Where are you going? What has happened to you? Why are we here?" Concern filled his tone as he cried out to his fleeing brother. Jack didn't notice him, nor listened as he ran past him. Ermand pivoted, watching Jack dart away.
A screechy, blood-curdling sound sliced the thinness of the air, nearly causing his heart to rip through his chest. Ermand turned back in the source's direction of the ghastly sound.
A large but irregular figure soared toward him. It was a misty-looking, grisly creature with long fangs and blood streaming eyes, and had a pair of large, transparent ears perched at the sides of its head.
He stood there rooted to the ground, trembling as he watched the creature glide toward him in vengeance. His breath became heavier and heavier as a fraction of moments passed by, and suddenly it hit him straight onto his chest, leaving Ermand writhing on the ground as it became boiling in a trice. The pain was overwhelming and searing at every atom of his body.
"Argh!" He groaned, his chest rose when the realization hit him. The pain... the pain was immeasurable, shredding at something that burned within him.
He gasped for breath. Beads of sweat trailed down his face.
What happened just now?
The sheets rumbled under him as he pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around it.
Although the weather was quite warm, he felt cold around him. He could hear the birds chirping through the opened window, and the sound of flurrying dewy leaves. It seemed like a joyful morning for everybody except for Ermand. It was because of the nightmare he had for a dream.
Dreams like these have been looming around his subconscious for as long as he remembered. Every night, the dreams assaulted him with those most valuable people in his life getting hurt. This time, it was Jack again. What did this all mean, he wasn't certain of.
While it still caught Ermand in the horror of his nightmare, he heard somebody knocking on the door, which made him unconsciously leave a low gasp.
"Yes?"
A lean woman in her late forties opened the door gently and hastened toward him just as she saw her son, sweating and red, all over his face. She wore a long purple gown, covered by a stained white kitchen apron. Her eyes were sullen, eyebrows furrowed, and it slightly turned the commissure of her lips down. It filled her gestures with worry. Even her unsteady stance intensified it.
