As we walked the dimming streets of the academy grounds I was really taking in everything that’s happened. Reincarnating into this world as a skeleton wouldn’t have been my first choice but being a supposed “Abnormality of the World '' certainly had its benefits.
Initially when Henry had speculated whether I was one or not I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I wanted to believe it was true since I wanted so desperately for this to be my second chance at life. A real chance at life.
I can’t say I have many regrets over the shut-in life I led before, well except for maybe disappointing my parents. Still, there was always that lingering thought gnawing at the back of my mind; the thought that I was missing out.
Not only missing out on a life filled with friends and other relationships, but a fulfilling one where I had a purpose in the world. In my previous life I had no such thing, I had no talents nor the drive to acquire any. I was far more content with staying stagnant. But here it's different. I have that second chance to do better. And now that I know for sure just what I’m capable of I feel as if nothing can stop me.
At our talk with Master Craven I was brimming with confidence. I only wish Marie felt the same.
Turning to my side Marie’s eyes were still cloudy with doubt. Hell, now that I can see everyone's magical energy I could see her’s was far too murky. Seeing her aura now I could feel that it was more than just a lack of confidence, there was some other emotion lying beneath the surface. A part of me wants to pry but I also wonder if I’m making it out to be more than it is.
Distracting me from my thoughts I notice something strange in the distance. At first it appeared to be some kind of wall but the closer we got the more translucent it became. It was more like a mist or fog hanging in the air crossing our path. Normally I’d pay fog no mind but it couldn’t have been just any ordinary fog due to the color. It was a deep red.
I stopped dead in my tracks which caught Marie off guard.
“Sorry, but, do you see that?”
“Eh? See what?”
Marie looks around frantically before turning back to me with a confused look.
“You don’t see that red mist?”
“Red mist? No, I don’t see anything. Are you okay?”
Oi, am I okay? Am I hallucinating? I mean, I know it’s been a long day but as an undead I don’t get tired or exhausted. So, what I’m seeing has to be real right? I ponder it for a moment before realizing how stupid I was. I know exactly what it was but I couldn’t explain why I was seeing it now and like this.
It was magical energy.
“I’m seeing red magical energy hanging in the air, but where exactly is it coming from?”
Did someone use a magic art here and this is just leftover residue? If that is the case then why does it bring a chill to my bones? I can’t explain why but there was something nefarious about this red mist.
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Marie was even more confused than before but she trusts what I’m seeing and we both decide to investigate.
Heading in a direction away from the academy gates we do our best to follow the red mist, making our way past various buildings and through seedy alleys. Eventually we came upon an open area. The entrance to the Erd Academy.
In the distance I could see something on the ground. An ominous feeling overtook me, not just because of the strange symbol glowing on the ground but because of a dark figure standing by it.
I motion for Marie to stay back which she gladly does as I could tell fear was already consuming her, causing her teeth to lightly chatter. Slowly but surely I approach the hooded figure and the red symbol on the cobblestone clearing.
Despite my advancing footsteps the stranger doesn’t move any inch. One thought is swirling in my mind. “Could this guy be the killer?” There was a murder on the acadmey grounds just days ago and Joseph had mentioned magic sigils being drawn by the bodies. The sigil didn’t seem to be made of blood but it was a crimson color that reminded me of it. That could be the magical energy left behind by the blood.
If that was the killer why would he come back to the scene of the crime? I always thought that was something made up for cop shows. Still, I can’t deny that it's strange for this man to be staring at a symbol that only I can see, not to mention his aura is almost as black as the night.
“Excuse me?”
I’m nearly within arms length as I call out to him. His head slowly turns towards me as if he were in a daze. His eyes were bloodshot and completely vacant. It almost seemed as if mentally he wasn’t even here.
“Are you okay, sir?”
While there was still something about this guy I didn’t like, there was the possibility that he was just drunk and happened to be coincidently looking in the direction of an occult-like symbol.
“It is only a matter of time. The dreaming lord will be awakened.”
That voice, as deep and cold as a demon’s, speaks to me. Though it clearly came out of that man’s mouth it also echoed through my head. I immediately get into a position to fight. The hooded man however simply stood still and began laughing. I almost relaxed my guard before he pulled out a knife.
I instinctively held my arm to block an incoming attack but what happened next was not at all what I expected. The man before me let out one final word and then slit his own throat.
Marie let out a gasp as she rushed over to me. I was more than shocked at what just happened. Not only that this man just killed himself but also the last word that escaped his mouth. I wasn’t sure if I had heard it right but it sounded like he said…
“Sorry?”
***
Deep within the sewers of the capital a gathering had commenced. Several individuals in black robes, all creeping slowly as if they were sleepwalking. These Walking Dreamers were coming together for one last time. Their leader had told them that the dream would soon end.
The one that they had all seen in their dream was soon to be awakened. It had never been a question for any of them that this must be done. That the Red Dragon; The Lord of Blood must be woken from his dream.
One among these cultists though was beginning to question. Small whispers of doubt echoed in his head thinking of the man he followed through the streets near the Academy. He tried his best to suppress them. After all, he had no control. It was as if he was only merely the observer in a dream.
He watched himself dig a knife into the man’s back. He watched this other self drive nails into that man’s pleading eyes. Eyes filled with tears.
But it wasn’t him. It wasn’t him cutting out the tongue, the same tongue from the mouth that begged to be spared. So why does he feel this way?
Why does it feel as if he’s being pulled out from drowning in water?
Why is he walking away from the gathering?
Why has he returned to the same spot in his dream?
Why does the lifeless doll become aware?
That broken thing laughs and says something pathetic before turning itself into an empty shell.