*Phew*... Apolo snapped open his two eyes and stared at the wooden ceiling in his room. More bewildered than scared, the young man touched the ring hanging from a necklace on his chest, reminding himself that he was now in the real world.
—These dreams are getting weirder and weirder...— Apolo mumbled, gazing at the ceiling of his room while he ran his fingers over the rusty surface of the ring. This time, the experience of being aware in his own dream had left the young noble stunned: in his dream, everything had been too real, the bodies, the geometries, the places, the pain, the touch, the taste, and even the smells.
—There was no forest, and yet somehow I managed to find the cliff...— Apolo muttered reflectively without getting out of bed. Turning his head, the young man could see through the window of his room that the sun had just risen on the horizon, so technically, he was still sleeping well, although the bizarre dream had started his day on the wrong foot.
—The four names still linger... sometimes... Rarely— Apolo murmured, pondering the small, significant details in his strange experience and the other dreams he had been having since becoming a wizard. Looking around his room with tiredness, Apolo saw the wardrobe in the distance; his laziness made it seem incredibly far in his mind, so he didn't want to leave the comfort of his bed to make so much effort.
—Helena still has her ring, but this time, it's the first time I didn't kill her... or maybe I did, and she died from the blow to the stomach, who knows, being unconscious, it's impossible to know when she actually died...— Apolo mumbled without changing his expression. It was too early to take the matter seriously, and pondering was a good excuse not to get out of bed—Damn, it's an important detail not to know the truth...
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Rubbing his face with his hands, Apolo tried to lift his torso but lazily fell back on the mattress. Then, the noble turned while hugging his pillow, attempting to go back to sleep. But then he saw the silver mask on the desk and muttered:
—I think the mask symbolizes that I'm pleasing my ancestors, but why was it being worn by Fausto? Usually, Homero wears it, which makes sense since he was one of my childhood playmates and training partners. On the other hand, my relationship with Fausto is terrible; we're nearly 15 years apart in age, so it's logical that we have practically nothing in common. Besides, he's the only one of my brothers who actually went to war and came back completely shattered, poor guy... Well, fortunate, really: he wasn't supposed to inherit the throne, but then all the uncles and cousins died, and fate practically handed him the throne.
*Yawn*...Apolo yawned, turning again to gaze at the ceiling of his room. In his mind, he knew he couldn't stay in bed forever, even though that's what he wished for right now.
—Now that I think about it, I'm usually a child in my dreams, but not this time... why? Maybe I'm getting old, and now I consider myself an adult, or maybe it's because I always wanted Fausto to treat me like an adult and not like "Apolito"... but who knows the truth...
A few minutes passed until Apolo finally managed to stretch and summon the strength to get out of bed and change. There was no time to waste today; the young man reminded himself, today was the first day when Apolo could finally enjoy his fully furnished mansion!