Rigaku's eyes shot open, and he straightened himself. His arm didn't hurt, and he wasn't in the sleeping bag either. All around him floated thin haze. Standing up, he pushed up glasses he was sure he didn't put on.
Keeping his composure even inside the dreamland, he remained collected.
"What are you waiting for?" The question sounded more like an order. "Size it!"
"How rude to be so demanding without introducing yourself."
What could a dream do to him? There was nothing he could fear and waking up was only a matter of a few minutes. Dreams usually appeared a short while before waking up. He had read studies about them as a kid and wrote his own paper on this matter during his elementary years.
"Thinking so high of yourself?" The voice mocked him.
The boy kept listening, not recognizing it. It sounded as if a woman was talking at him.
"You know it belongs to you! You are the best!"
The last two words brought the Golden Pear into his mind.
"See? You yearn for it!"
"What do you mean? Explain yourself!" He turned around, trying to glimpse the speaker. 'They couldn't read my mind, could they? Or was it just a fluke? Or are they connected with the pear?'
Too many questions floated in his mind as the haze cleared around him. Glancing a figure, he rushed to catch up to it. His steps and breaths echoed through the emptiness.
Where was he? His muscles screamed in pain with each step. What a vivid dream this was. Despite the best efforts of his brain, Rigaku couldn't stop to play with a possibility of this being real. No dream had ever left an impact on him, much less made him dead tired.
Stopping, he realized the mist stepped away further, revealing ruins all around him. Stone pillars laid scattered and smashed across the stone floor among bloodied armors, helmets, and shields. Finding something resembling his world, he took a deep breath and examined one skeleton.
'There had to be a war a long time ago.'
The man's body laid sprawled onto the floor. His armor almost fully rusted. Only a few engraved patterns were visible, and perhaps they symbolized his rank while alive. His helmet was nowhere to be seen, and a lance or spear stabbed his body to the floor.
His attacker didn't seem to enjoy his victory for too long, as another beheaded body laid a step away. He left the unfortunate men and headed deeper. A beautiful and almost intact mosaic floor that emulated 3D boxes caught his eye.
He kneeled, brushing his fingertips across it. It was perfectly smooth and flat, and endless waves around it made of smaller stones reminded him of his trip to the island Delos, where he had seen a similar carpet.
Examining his surroundings, he realized he might have ventured into Oikos, a household from ancient Greece. The rest of the walls and columns outside of the room had a striking resemblance to those he had seen on the island.
'Let's see, if I'm right, and I'm usually right, this could be a living room, and next to me should be a storage room or place for slaves.' Venturing from the room, he looked into a small one that seemed to have a burned wall inside.
'Kitchen, I can still see the leftovers from the fireplace. The hall connecting all rooms is big, so I guess the old owners were rich or successful.'
Walking outside, he looked up, but there was no sky or sun, yet he could see.
'I wonder if I'm reliving my memories from the trip to Delos inside this dream.' His trained eyes spotted a circular temple called tholos with a caved-in roof, and its steps were crumbled and cracked across the entire length.
'But for what purpose?'
He strolled, checking the history lost in the dust of time as if he was inside a park. Taking notes of decorated tops of pillars, statue missing heads or arms but never their genitals, as if those were untouchable, he slightly smiled as he recognized everything. One house stood entirely on thick columns as if it expected floods every spring.
The long stair started in front of the house, and Rigaku took one by one. More fleshless bodies laid across the steps as if the greatest battle took place here. From outside, the house didn't look that extraordinary, but it could contain a rare treasure.
The boy stopped for a moment as he thought he had heard a whisper behind him. Pivoting, he saw nothing, but his heart refused to settle down for a few seconds. His brown eyes traced the corps, expecting them to spring into life.
Taking a deep gulp, he turned to proceed, but his brain took note that the stairs hid in the mist. Clenching his fingers, he examined the area. The other buildings, even the tallest towers, disappeared. Either eaten up by the haze, or the dream played with his sense of perspective.
'Well, in ancient Greek, they invented many optical illusions like with that floor.'
Finding little solace in his words, he continued up. With each step, he was sure the house got further.
A metallic screech tore his ears. Turning back his heart stopped responding. Darkness crawled up the stairs, gulping all the corps and crushing them like soap bubbles. One skeleton's head bobbled up, its jaws opening as if screaming for Rigaku to run.
And the boy ran.
His feet never moved so fast, except for the time he dashed to his brother's side. But jumping out of the window wasn't an option now.
"What's that?" he screamed. "Hey!"
Calling the voice yielded no result. Whoever it was, they kept watching from behind the shadows. Perhaps it was them, who sent the hungry darkness after him. The mere bones couldn't vanquish its apatite.
The fact Rigaku wasn't exactly meaty morsel didn't help him at all. Reaching the top, he took out a few moments to catch his breath. Lifting his head, he needed to shadow his eyes, as in the center stood a powerful light source.
Its beams wrapped the oldest Kamini in an embrace, ensuring him everything was going to be alright.
"Get it!" The voice appeared. "Obtain it! And you shall be saved!" Its demanding nature pushed the boy forward, and he sprinted to get the floating object.
"Save yourself!" the voice added, this time without the malice or ordering him, but in an almost motherly tone.
Needing only a few more steps to grab his ticket to safety, he glanced two figures crouched under one column. Without hesitation, he headed their way.
"What are you doing?"
Rigaku ignored the voice, checking the pulse of the people. Their tattered clothes ensured him, they fought hard to get here.
"I'm taking them with me!" Rigaku shouted.
"No! Only one shall pass!"
As if the darkness resonated with the woman's voice, it invaded the place. Its mass changed into a porridge-like substance, covering and climbing up the columns, but it kept its distance from the light.
"Leave them!" the voice ordered him, and Rigaku felt his legs tucked the way toward the dimming light.
Was it losing its strength? How much time had he left? Could he make it? Sweat slid down his forehead.