9 The Providence Of Dreams 5
83 0 3
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

I was laying on the mat in my room. I couldn't stop thinking about what I had discussed with my sister. I thought about the problem over and over again, approaching it from many different angles, however, I still couldn't find a solution. 

Attribute magic wasn't taught to us in-depth when I was training to be a mage, after all, contract magic was more powerful. I knew of a settlement where attribute magic was studied in-depth, I thought of suggesting to father sending some mages over to learn from them. Perhaps they would learn something that would spark a breakthrough in the research father was conducting. 

The problem was father's personality. He loathed asking outsiders for help. He had so much pride in our settlement, I knew he wouldn't warm to the idea immediately. But, we couldn't afford to waste time. The journey to that settlement would take six months to and fro, and it would be perilous. Adding the time it would take to learn anything valuable, it would be over a year before they returned. 

I couldn't help but sigh. A year was a long time, a lot could happen in that time. For all I knew father could chance upon a solution to our problem in that time. However, no matter how I thought of it, this didn't seem like a problem we could solve without outside help.  

I tossed and turned worrying until eventually, I fell asleep. And that was how I found myself in that strange room again. This time the setting was a bit different. I was sitting on a plush chair, and that old man was sitting opposite me. Between us, there was a table. On the ground a nice wool rug was spread, my feet felt like they were sinking into clouds. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, and the candles that hung from the chandelier illuminated the room. 

"I see you've started recalling a bit of the past," the old man said. In his hands was a white porcelain cup, and in it was some black liquid I was unfamiliar with. On the table, in front of me, sat the same identical cup with the same liquid in it. 

"Excuse me?" I was confused. 

"Hmm? I see my presence no longer overwhelms you," the man said, ignoring me. 

When I heard those words, I remembered the first time I met this man. I remembered the feeling of reverence he evoked in me. The mere sight of him back then had made me want to fall on my knees and worship him. The sound of his voice too. I remembered how that voice shook my whole being. Those feelings still remained, but compared to then, I was able to control my emotions better. 

"Why am I here again? Where is this?" I mumbled to myself. 

The old man simply smiled at me and took a sip from the cup in his hand. I don't know why, but I grew curious about that black liquid, so I reached over to pick up the cup that was in front of me to take a sip. The drink was bitter, incredibly so, and it left an odd aftertaste in my mouth. I immediately put the cup back down. 

"Ah, coffee is an acquired taste. Don't worry, eventually, you'll come to appreciate its charm," the old man said to me. I guess the name of the drink was coffee. 

"Why am I here?" I asked again. 

"Well, I brought you here to give you some hints. But I am a bit disappointed. Are you not the least bit curious what that dream you had was, and why you suddenly had a boost in physicality?" the old man answered, and posed to me a question of his own. 

"I am curious, but if I ask, will you answer?" I asked him back. Ever since I met this man, he never once gave a straightforward answer to any of the questions I had asked him. 

"All events have a natural flow; I can give you answers as long as they do not mess with the flow. Should I tell you more than you are ready to know, your mind could collapse," he said to me. 

"So, what was that dream?" I asked. 

"A memory," was his short reply. 

"A memory? If I've died before, I think I would remember," I said. The pitch of my voice went up a few octaves, betraying my incredulity. 

"But you have, and now you remember. You should prepare yourself. Now that the first memory appeared, the floodgates have opened and other memories will start appearing. You must prepare yourself and not lose sight of who you are and where you are," the old man said to me. 

"I don't understand. You keep talking about memories, but it is impossible for that dream to be my memory. I have never been in battle with a Lycan that looked like that before," I said, frustrated at the fact I couldn't understand what the old man was saying. 

"It's fine if you don't understand. You have time now, you'll understand eventually," the old man said to me and took another sip of his drink.  

I looked at him, and for the first time, I noticed something odd. Even though he was sitting opposite me, I couldn't make out what he looked like. The long pure white hair, eyes as blue as the sky on a nice sunny day, and thin red lips, those were the only features on his face I could make out. It felt like I was looking at a silhouette of a person, but for some odd reason those features stood out to me. 

"It's time to wake up," the last words I heard before darkness swallowed my consciousness. 

When I opened my eyes, I was in my room; the hint of dawn evident from my window. I laid on my back, thinking about what I'd just experienced. This was the third time I'd closed my eyes and had this experience. It didn't feel like a dream, it felt too vivid. 

I got up, put my clothes on, and made my way to the new training ground. All the way there, the words of the old man were stuck in my head. It didn't make any sense, I wasn't even sure what to make of the whole encounter, but I couldn't stop thinking about his words. 

When I finally got to the training ground, there were already six people waiting there. I was early, so I was surprised to see people already here. 

"Good morning," I greeted the group. 

"Good morning," they all replied in unison as they formed a neat row in front of me. 

"It is still very early, so we'll wait for the others to arrive before we begin training. Until then, you guys can just do what you'd usually do to warm up," I said to them. 

"Uhm­... if it is alright, I would like to ask ye fer a spar," someone said to me just as I was turning away. I turned back to look at who it was, and it was the mace user. 

I had expected someone to challenge me and Aurel, but the challenge came sooner than expected, although I couldn't say the challenger surprised me. He was a man of big stature. Not as big as the leader, but big nonetheless. He had a scar on his cheek and right forearm, eyes like a beast, and unkempt hair. He was the oldest of the recruits that had volunteered to join the new unit. 

I knew his story well. Almost no one in this settlement didn't know his story. He had a wife and two daughters. His wife wasn't particularly beautiful, but she was kind and cheerful, she always had a smile on her face. His daughters were aged seven and three. The seven-year-old was particularly rambunctious. 

During a Lycan attack, he'd lost his entire family. His story was famous due to the particularly brutal nature of the attack. He'd been stationed inside the settlement to protect the civilians in case the Lycans broke our lines of defense. However, the Lycans snuck into the settlement and wreaked havoc. Unfortunately, before the frontline made it back, many lives had been lost. 

In his case, he got injured trying to protect his family. And while he laid in a pool of his own blood, he watched as his family was butchered, their organs removed and eaten. He watched on and the Lycans cackled in glee while feasting on his daughters. 

Everyone here had a story to tell, but I felt like his was one of the sadder ones. Ever since then, he'd dedicated himself to becoming a better warrior and killing as many Lycans as he possibly could. He was a veteran warrior, and it was understandable that he would want to test my fitness to be the leader of this unit. 

"Fine, but there are no mages here, so we would have to use wooden weapons, is that fine with you?" I asked him.  

"It's fine by me," he said and walked over to pick up a wooden club. I myself chose a wooden sword. 

I felt the need to prove myself, and the pressure increased my concentration. I wasn't nervous, but I knew a lot was at stake. The people that joined our unit joined in the hopes that we would become the tip of the spear, in the hopes that joining the unit would provide them the opportunity to hunt as many Lycans as possible. 

Those hopes would be dashed if the unit had an incompetent leader. I needed to prove to them that I was competent, that they hadn't made a mistake by joining this unit. I needed to let them know that I was equally as passionate about hunting the Lycans as they were. So, this was more than a spar. 

As we took our starting positions, my grip on the hilt of the sword got tighter. My focus narrowed on the opponent before me. I could feel his pulse as if it were my own. The slightest movement of his eyes felt monumental, I could hear his breathing as if he were next to me. The distance between us narrowed so much it felt like I would become one with him. 

When the signal came to start, I saw him lower his body in preparation to charge. It was a feature of mace users; they weren't defensive fighters at all. They were wild fighters, very similar to berserkers. The moment I saw him dig his feet in to give himself better propulsion, I moved. 

For a second, everything seemed to grind to a halt. I didn't worry about it too much; I was focused on the man before me. He was stationary, his eyes still focused on the spot I was standing at. I ran behind him and struck the base of his head from behind with my sword. He fell forward, having lost consciousness. 

I finally exhaled, having been holding my breath unconsciously. I tried regulating my breathing, as I was still very excited. It took some time, but I was finally able to calm myself. When I looked around, there were five shocked faces looking at me. 

"Would anyone else like to spar?" I asked the group. 

I got no audible replies, they all simply shook their head. I looked down to see my challenger lying face flat on the dirt. I felt bad leaving there like this, so I asked the group to move him away. If he hadn't woken by the time the others arrived, they were to wake him up. 

While I had some time to myself, I thought about what just happened. I had never experienced anything like that before. My concentration was decent, but it wasn't to that level. I sat down crossed my legs and waited for the others, while I tried to figure out what was happening to me. 

The past couple of days were very weird. There were the strange dreams, and then the changes to my body I was experiencing. I didn't know whether to be happy or scared. Just then, I saw my sister walking towards me. 

"I can't believe I had to wake up this early because of you," she said to me while yawning. Her ocean-blue eyes had a bit of fire in them as she stared at me, but more than her words, it was the scowl on her face that truly gave away her displeasure. 

"Well, I can't believe I have to be in charge of a new unit because of you," I shot back at her with a grin on my face. She clicked her tongue and turned away. 

"Where are the others?" she asked while looking around. 

"As you can see, there are only a few people here," I said, pointing to the group tending to the man I'd just knocked unconscious, "the others will be here in due time." 

"And the ignorant oaf?" she asked. 

"He won't have much to do today, so I let him sleep. Once we have the enchanted weapons, he'll get busy though," I answered with a bitter smile. 

Not long after my sister arrived the others began to arrive too. Before long everyone was present. The group that arrived earlier also came to join, with the previously unconscious man in tow. He looked a bit embarrassed, unable to make eye contact and always avoiding my gaze. They all formed a row of three in front of me and my sister. 

I was sure they all knew my sister, but I still asked her to introduce herself. 

"Hello, I am Minerva Fiica Lui Ion. I am a mage; I will be in charge of your lesson for today." 

Guys, I took a bit of damage. I finally summoned the courage to show this story to my family, and the feedback wasn't good. My brother said it wasn't engaging, and it didn't read like I put any effort into writing it. According to them the stories I wrote previously that I tried publishing were better.

That sparked my competitive spirit, it felt like a challenge to me and my nonexistent writing skills. I was already struggling, but now I have more hurdles to overcome. I think some of the web novels I read rubbed off on me. The tone of the story seems to be way too lighthearted. I will try fixing that in the future.

As always, thank you guys for continuing to read the story, and thank you for your likes and comment. Knowing people out there are reading and liking my story makes me so happy, despite some of the criticisms I've gotten. The criticisms will help me improve, but you the readers give me the courage to continue. Sincerely, thank you.

3