The Woman in the Dream

Aren Vane Gogh was standing in the middle of a field he had never seen before.

The grass stretched endlessly in every direction, swaying beneath a sky that seemed far too large. There were no buildings. No roads. No trees.

Nothing.

Just him.

And a woman standing several meters away.

She had her back toward him.

Aren stared at her for a moment.

"Do I know you?"

The woman didn't answer.

Instead, she slowly turned around.

Aren couldn't make out her face.

It wasn't hidden by anything. There was simply something wrong with it. Like his mind refused to recognize it.

She took a step toward him.

Then another.

Aren remained where he was.

He wasn't afraid.

Not yet.

The woman stopped a few steps away.

"I've been looking for you."

Aren frowned.

"That's unfortunate."

The woman blinked.

"Why?"

"Because I don't know you."

For the first time, the woman smiled.

It was a strange smile.

Not happy.

Almost relieved.

"I have a mission."

Aren said nothing.

"A mission?"

"Yes."

"What does it have to do with me?"

"You already know."

"I don't."

The woman's smile disappeared.

"Then you'll remember."

Aren felt something cold run down his back.

"What am I supposed to remember?"

She reached toward him.

The moment her fingers were about to touch his chest—

Aren woke up.

His eyes opened immediately.

For a few seconds, he stared at the ceiling.

Silence.

He took a slow breath.

Another strange dream.

He had been having them more often lately.

Not nightmares.

Not exactly.

They were always different, but there was always something he couldn't explain. A place he'd never been. A voice he'd never heard. A feeling that he was supposed to understand something that had somehow been forgotten.

Aren rubbed his eyes.

"Annoying."

He sat up.

Morning light filtered through the curtains of his apartment. His room looked exactly as it had when he went to sleep.

A bed.

A small table.

A television.

A few clothes hanging over a chair.

Nothing particularly interesting.

He reached toward the table beside his bed.

His fingers brushed against a small metallic object.

A tiny piece of metal shaped almost like a broken ring hung from a short chain.

The Relinq.

His grandmother had given it to him years ago.

He had never really understood the thing.

His grandmother had called it a Sacred Relic.

Apparently, his family had possessed it for generations.

Aren had never cared much about that.

It was just something she had left behind.

He placed it back on the table.

Then he noticed something.

A voice.

Very close to his ear.

"Are you awake?"

Aren froze.

His eyes shifted sideways.

There was someone sitting on the edge of his bed.

A woman.

Aren stared at her.

She stared back.

For several seconds, neither of them said anything.

Then Aren looked toward the window.

Locked.

He looked toward the door.

Still locked.

He looked back at the woman.

She was dressed rather simply. A dark coat covered most of her clothes, and her long hair fell over her shoulders. Her appearance was almost deceivingly ordinary.

Beautiful, certainly.

But not intimidating.

If anything, she looked like the kind of woman Aren wouldn't expect to be able to win a fight.

She smiled.

"Good morning."

Aren stared.

"...How did you get in?"

She tilted her head.

"That's your first question?"

"Yes."

"Not who I am?"

"I can ask that after you explain how you got into my apartment."

The woman smiled again.

"You really are him."

Aren's eyes narrowed.

"Who's him?"

"The man I've been looking for."

Aren sighed.

He reached beside his bed and grabbed the sword resting against the wall.

The woman didn't move.

Aren stood.

"Start talking."

She raised both hands.

"I'm not here to hurt you."

"That's what people who are here to hurt me usually say."

"I suppose that's fair."

She stood up.

Aren immediately noticed that she was slightly shorter than him.

She didn't seem particularly threatening.

Still, he kept his hand on his sword.

"My name is Elise."

He waited.

"Elise what?"

"Escaflowne."

Aren's expression changed slightly.

He knew that name.

The Escaflowne family was one of the oldest families associated with Sacred Relics.

More importantly, there was one particular relic associated with their bloodline.

Chryzoul.

The strongest Sacred Relic ever recorded.

Or at least, that's what people said.

Aren lowered his sword slightly.

"You're an Escaflowne?"

"Yes."

"What do you want?"

Elise took a breath.

"I came because of you."

"That's becoming obvious."

"I need you to come with me."

"No."

She blinked.

"You haven't even heard what I have to say."

"I don't need to."

"Why?"

"Because you broke into my apartment."

Elise stared at him.

Then she laughed.

It wasn't loud.

Just a small, surprised laugh.

"You really are difficult."

"So I've been told."

She stepped closer.

Aren didn't move.

"I know about your past."

His expression immediately hardened.

Elise noticed.

"I know what happened to your family."

The room suddenly felt colder.

Aren's hand tightened around the sword.

"Leave."

"I'm not here to judge you."

"I said leave."

"I know what you did wasn't—"

"Leave."

Elise stopped.

For the first time since she'd entered the room, her smile disappeared.

She looked at him carefully.

Then she nodded.

"All right."

She walked toward the door.

Aren watched her.

She reached the handle.

Then stopped.

"There is something you need to know."

Aren said nothing.

"The Society 7 has started looking for you."

His eyes narrowed.

"Who?"

"The Society 7."

Aren knew the name.

Everyone did.

At least, everyone who paid attention to the rumors surrounding the capital.

Seven people.

Seven God-Rank Relic Bearers.

Seven representatives of the Seven Sins.

They had operated behind the scenes for years, influencing people in positions of power while remaining almost impossible to prove.

Most people considered them a conspiracy.

A story.

A convenient explanation for everything wrong with the capital.

Aren had never cared.

Until now.

"Why would they want me?"

Elise turned around.

"Because the prophecy is coming true."

Aren stared at her.

"What prophecy?"

Elise's expression became serious.

"The prophecy my family has protected for generations."

She placed a hand against her chest.

"It says that one day, a man will come and vanish the evil controlling the world from behind the scenes."

Aren's eyes remained fixed on her.

"And?"

"A woman from the family that bears the Sacred Relic will guide him."

She paused.

"That woman is me."

Silence.

Aren looked at her.

Then toward the clock.

Then back at her.

"You broke into my apartment to tell me that?"

Elise smiled faintly.

"Yes."

Aren sighed.

"Go home."

Elise's smile disappeared.

"Aren."

He froze.

She hadn't told him his name.

For the first time that morning, Aren genuinely looked unsettled.

Elise walked toward him.

"The Society 7 has started hunting you."

She stopped directly in front of him.

"And I believe they're afraid of you."

Aren stared at her.

He didn't know what frightened him more.

The fact that she knew his name.

The fact that she knew about his past.

Or the fact that the woman from his dream was standing directly in front of him.

Elise looked into his eyes.

"Because I think you're the man in the prophecy."

Aren said nothing.

Outside, somewhere in the distance, a siren began to wail.

And for the first time in years, Aren wondered if his quiet life was already over.