Five figures sat in the imposing throne room. Three of them were the King and Queen of Oralio, and Heather. The other two were Grandmasters; some of the most elite Paragons that directly served the King. While Heather appeared as a beacon of hope and strength for Humans, the Grandmasters handled extremely delicate affairs— the kind that couldn't be made known to the public. In other words, they did the Kingdom's dirty work.

  Heather lowered her head and her golden hair fell as she spoke, “It's not exactly damaged, but his connection to his Essence Pool has been severed. So, it still exists, but he simply cannot access it. In other words, he cannot dream.”

  Essence existed everywhere, and also within. The Essence contained within had to interact with worldly Essence—a crucial prerequisite—before magic could be manifested. Furthermore, the higher one's grade, the lower the internal Essence one needed to expend to do this.

  While a Seeker would drain their Essence Pool for a measly spell, a Paragon would be able to pull off catastrophic magic with just a trickle.

  And now, for some baffling reason, Esau’s connection to his Essence Pool had been severed.

  It didn't matter what grade he would be gauged as, he simply couldn't wield magic anymore. At least, not until a solution was found.

  King Odora’s face was grim— a very rare emotion he displayed. He looked at Heather and said, “I can't completely sever one’s connection to Essence, but I can restrict it for a good amount of time. However, there's no telling what sort of sinister deviations people possess. Which Radiant would dare do this?”

  Heather glanced at the queen, then shook her head.

  “I don't think a Radiant was responsible for this.”

  The king raised a brow, prompting the lady to solemnly explain, “Earlier, Esau had a nightmare. In fact, before going to the Healers, he looked exactly like a corpse; deathly pale and too shaken to speak. That was the state Tilly found him.”

  She paused for a moment, then continued, “A while ago, he asked if it was possible for Dreamers to enter the dreams of the dead. When I asked why he wanted to know, he said he was just curious about the capabilities of his Ascent. Now I realize that was a lie.”

  Odora’s frown deepened. “So you think my son saw something in a dream? Something he shouldn't have, thus affecting his mind as well as his being?”

  Heather nodded.

  One of the seated Grandmasters sighed. He was a man of considerable age, with limpid eyes and deep wrinkles, and he said, “So what that crazy woman prophesied is happening already…”

  “For Abyss’ sake, he's still a child!” King Odora slammed his fist against the armrest.

  Heather considered her words, before saying, “He's a strong boy. I believe he'll find his way.”

  Odora looked at her. He slowly shook his head and muttered with a wince, “Still, he's just a child…”

  A numbing silence fell upon the throne room.

  A while passed, and Aldine’s unhurried voice cut through the anguish, “Let's not dwell on that any further. We should be more focused on what Esau saw in his dream.”

  Everyone present looked at her. As usual, the queen’s expression and tone lacked warmth, but no one held it to her.

  The Grandmaster with clear eyes spoke again, “To be able to gravely harm the boy across a dream, it cannot be any ordinary being…”

  “Perhaps a creature on the level of Ascendants.”

  Everyone's faces turned even more grim.

  …

  Esau returned to his room after learning of his sudden disability. He stood on the balcony, staring at the distant spires that towered into the air. He took a long breath and tried to glimpse the surreal world, but no such wonder happened.

  Reality remained as it was. Solid, defined.

  He really couldn't dream anymore.

  Esau was quite surprised at how calm he was. If it were any other day, the world-shattering revelation would leave him bedridden for days.

  He had always been excited and expectant of his capabilities as a Dreamer, but, now, he couldn't spare the effort to care.

  He wasn't the same ever since waking up from the dreadful nightmare. He felt… different, fundamentally. Like he wasn't himself. Like he had been replaced.

  “Or maybe I've not been myself for a long time, only just realizing it now.”

  “Is this how a thirteen year old thinks?”

  “Have I chastised the other kids for being odd, when in fact, I'm the abnormal one?”

  “Who am I?”

  “Esau Avidius Goldheart.”

  “Are you, really?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Have you ever considered the possibility that you are Sodom? That corpse from before?”

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  “I remember my life very vividly. And I am not dead.”

  “If your memory is so spectacular, then what did you see in your nightmare?”

  “I– I can't remember…”

  “As I'd thought. Think about it— dreams that seem to not belong to you nor anyone else around. Whose life are you seeing then?! You are not who you think you are!”

  “I am.”

  “Denial will get you nowhere…”

  “I said I am!”

  Boiling with rage and frustration, Esau threw a fierce look at the foul entity next to him.

  To his dismay, however, all he beheld was nothing. The balcony remained as it was. The skies were clear, the wind was fresh, yet Esau’s head was a mess.

  He had been talking to himself all this while.

  “Have I gone mad?”

  As the realization dawned on him, the boy understood something else.

  The castle was killing him.

  He couldn't stay here any longer. He had to leave.

  …

  A Chapel stood in the lonely night. Two brown mares fastened to a pole raised their heads simultaneously and peered into the darkness. When one of them neighed loudly, Esmerelda’s eyes fluttered open.

  She similarly stared into the darkness, then frowned slightly.

  Quiet footsteps drew closer from the path ahead. Soon, a figure emerged from behind a tree and stopped before the chapel. It was a little girl in a tattered robe.

  Esmerelda couldn't see her features properly, but she could tell something was awfully wrong.

  When the little girl took a staggering step closer, she rose to her feet and hurried over. Almost immediately, the girl collapsed to the ground, but Esmerelda was quick to support her fall.

  “Just what happened to you…”

  Esmerelda looked at the child in her arms, her heart wincing slightly due to how malnourished she was. At that moment, the little girl parted her lips and spoke in an almost soundless voice, “M-my brother… I'm searching for my brother…”

  Esmerelda frowned.

  “Your brother?”

  The little girl used the last of her strength to mutter, “His name is Micheal…”

  Micheal.

  The puzzlement on Esmerelda’s face slowly disappeared.

  Her dark-purple eyes flashed with a certain emotion.

  Then, she smiled.

  “I'll take you to your brother.”

  …

  Micheal couldn't remember how long he'd been locked away for. Ever since sustaining the injury to his head, his thoughts had been clouded and scattered.

  He was weak, tired… slowly losing his grasp on reality. Frankly, with the amount of blood he had lost, he was bound to collapse sooner or later. The only reason he stubbornly held on was his sister.

  He couldn't forgive himself for having given up on life that night. How could he dare harbor the thought of leaving her alone in this forsaken world?

  So, no matter what happened, Micheal swore to survive. He would live through this and return to little Marie.

  There was a loud clang, and the sound of dangling keys reached his ears.

  The boy pressed his hands to the ground and raised his body. His blurry eyes caught sight of a figure approaching the dungeon he'd been tossed in.

  Micheal's fists subconsciously clenched when he saw who it was. Of course, the figure was none other than his captor— the Witch of White. It was a name Micheal had deemed her, stemming from her looks and, well, her fiendish nature.

  “What do you want?” Despite his sorry state, Micheal didn't back down under her piercing gaze. He stared at her with the fiercest look he could muster.

  Esmerelda, on the other hand, was grinning from ear to ear. She suppressed a chuckle, walked over to the iron bars and unlocked it.

  “Come with me.” She said, then turned around and walked away.

  Micheal hesitated for a moment. However, eventually, he took the daunting step forward and trudged behind the mind-reading witch.

  The two of them moved along a dark corridor and arrived at the underground cloister. From there, they reached the hall with contrasting lighting. Spheres of light hung from a concealed tree, failing to properly illuminate the place due to the choking and seemingly sentient darkness.

  The six high-back chairs surrounded the iron table in silence. However, this time, there was a man occupying one of them.

  Micheal stepped into the hall with Esmerelda and observed the new figure’s appearance. The young man was of relatively average build. He had black, sleek hair, brown eyes and an unassuming demeanor. When a sphere of light danced towards his side, Micheal saw the wide scar that ran from his neck down.

  He was casually seated, placing both his legs on the table. The young man stared at Micheal for a while, then muttered, “What is this damned fellow plotting this time? I really don't want to be here…”

  Esmerelda shot him a cold look, and he shrank back with visible wariness.

  Their little interaction didn't go unnoticed. Micheal tensed and stopped following.

  “What am I doing here?” He asked.

  Esmerelda turned to look at him with a wide smile. She clapped excitedly and said, “Guess.”

  Micheal wasn't amused.

  Seeing no reaction from the boy, Esmerelda clicked her tongue and shrugged. “Well, you'll be just as excited as I am in a while.” Then, she looked towards the young man and said, “Amur, bring her.”

  Amur groaned and lazily got off the chair. He left the hall and his receding footsteps echoed throughout the cloister. After a short while, his footsteps returned. This time, however, it was accompanied by slow, milder ones.

  Micheal squinted and tried to see through the darkness shrouding the cloister.

  When he did… his heart skipped.

  As a frail little girl staggered into the hall, Micheal felt two intense emotions. First, he felt extreme dread. The reason being the cold killer who stood behind him. However, that dread was quickly replaced by a sense of overwhelming relief.

  “Marie!”

  Micheal's legs moved before he could even think. He fell to his knees before the girl and pulled her into a tight embrace.

  “...Micheal?”

  “Yes. Yes, it's me.” Micheal strongly fought back tears, using all the strength he had left to hold his sister. The little girl relaxed when she realized it was him. She began to sob, which in turn, caused Micheal's defenses to crumble.

  Tears streamed down his face like a fountain.

  He didn't need the spheres of light to tell that his sister was barely clinging to breath. It seemed like she would immediately collapse should he let go of her.

  There were so many questions on his mind, but one stood out the most.

  Had she walked all the way from the capital to find him? That would've taken days…

  The thought made his heart ache with sorrow.

  He had caused Marie great pain.

  Micheal opened his mouth to speak, but his sister did so first.

  “I found you,” She said, her voice trembling. “You work so hard for both of us, yet I can barely walk on my own. I'm sorry I have always been unable to help. I am a burden, to you and to myself. When you didn't return, I wondered if I would ever see you again… and I-I thought that you left because of how crippled I am.”

  Micheal's head buzzed, and his eyes turned bloodshot. He wanted to refute, but Marie placed a finger over his lips, hushing him.

  “I know that isn't true. I could feel your heartbeat. I could feel your fear, your worries. So I searched… and I found you. Because I needed to thank you for everything.”

  “Micheal, whatever happens now, I want you to remember that I will always love you. Even from beyond. Mother and father do too. We will always be with you.”

  Then, she leaned in and whispered words that caused Micheal's eyes to widen:

  “Son, live long.”

  In the next instant, Micheal felt a hand grab his shoulder. He was yanked backwards with devious strength, making him lose hold of the little girl.

  He fell to the floor with a violent thud.

  Micheal scrambled to his knees and looked up…to see a silver dagger moving seamlessly through the lean neck of the girl.

  Micheal's eyes widened in horror as the little girl's comforting smile froze on her face.

  Then, his eyes further widened when her head fell to the cold floor.

  The spark in her eyes was snuffed out in an instant.

  Her blood formed a pool.

  “...”

  …And then there was a snap, crisp and echoing. The world seemed to halt for a moment, like a frozen lake eagerly waiting for spring.

  After a few seconds of strange stillness, Micheal stood up, patted his clothes, walked out of the hall, and left the chapel. Wearing a dazed expression, he simply wandered off into the night.

  A colorful bird perched on a tree branch and watched as the boy treaded the lonely path in the cold, cruel night.

  There was a hint of anguish in its eyes.

  …

  Back in the hall, Esmerelda shook her head and sighed. “Such peculiar siblings. One could reject mental influences to a degree, the other had three separate minds.”

  Amur, on the other hand, stared at her with a deadpan expression.

  “What did you do?”

  Esmerelda studied the corpse on the floor for a moment, then wiped the blood off the silver dagger. She tossed it back to Amur, then said, “I killed her.”

  “...I can see that.” Amur shifted uncomfortably. “What did you do to the boy?”

  Esmerelda wanted to speak, but she winced and held her head instead. Blood streamed down her nostrils.

  “Haa… my Essence Pool is completely drained.”

  After collecting herself, she sighed and slumped into one of the nearby chairs. Then, she glanced at Amur and explained with a tired smile, “Manipulating people's memories and thoughts isn't as easy as one would imagine. Our cognitive bodies naturally fight back when there's some sort of tampering, after all. However, when the target is going through intense emotions, all those defenses are lowered completely. In simpler words, it's easier to manipulate people when they're filled with immense rage, sorrow, joy…and so on.”

  “Witnessing his sister's death caused his mind to erupt, and so, I was able to exploit that window of opportunity. I erased his memories— from the moment I met him, up till this point. I erased everything. In fact, I erased the fact that he had a sister.”

  Amur couldn't follow the thought process of the devil before him. He frowned and asked, “Why?”

  Esmerelda’s smile widened.

  “Why? I'm not sure. Who knows, maybe I would like to see the look on his face when his memories return.”

  I see… Amur glanced at the little girl's corpse.

  Amur had never been one to care for people. His bubbly personality was a mere facade— he was, in truth, a heartless killer.

  Yet, now, he found his heart truly weeping for the unfortunate siblings.

  Feeling conflicted, Amur considered taking Esmerelda’s life right there and then. He felt that such a person— devil, shouldn't be allowed to exist.

  However, In the end, he suppressed his thoughts and left the gloomy hall. Reason being that she played an important role in their grand plan, and the fact that Father would descend before he could successfully kill her.

  He swore to himself, however, that he would take her life with his own two hands once everything was over.

  Esmerelda watched him leave, a satisfied smile on her face.

  She exhaled and shut her eyes.

  “Haa… What a wonderful night.”