Dream A Little Dream

The first thing he realized was the sound of a loud bang, deafening in his ears. Kazuya opened his weary eyes as he peered into the darkness, more akin to a smoke. A crackling fire came from his left and right, and its fumes dried his throat—gagged on it. He tried to move, but he ended up drenching himself in the cold, muddy dirt.

A loud clang of steel resonated in the air as shadows danced inside the smoke. At first, he thought he was hallucinating. He blinked a couple of times and rubbed his eyes, trying to regain his composure, but the throbbing sensation in his forehead lingered evermore. Kazuya, almost stopped breathing, squinted into the smoke; his eyes didn’t fool him—something really moving inside the smoke.

The swings of the sword parted the surrounding air, revealing a glimpse of two men engaged in a duel. As the smoke settled, the two figures became much clearer. Beneath the adorned blue loose robe with the same two-headed swan insignia on their chest. A faint rustling noise picked by Kazuya's ears—a suit of chainmail covered their body. On their head, a pear-shaped helmet with a hood of mail covered their neck and head while a worn-out brown cape draped over their shoulder. Those images fit with Kazuya’s idea of a medieval soldier, a foot soldier, a knight; whatever the terms might be, it something like out of game or a book

Am I dreaming?

Their swords rang out with every strike. One dueler stepped back near Kazuya, and a jagged breath escaped from his lips. The dueler tightened his grip on the sword, lining it to the right as they both lunged forward. He switched his position and raised his sword high to the left as he immediately swung it right, catching off-guard his opponent. Without a hesitation, he quickly managed to slice through the opponent's hand, disarming him.

A scream shrilled into the air, sending shivers down Kazuya's neck. His eyes widened in horror, and his mouth fell silent in disbelief. The opponent tucked their hand to their chest; Kazuya couldn’t fathom the pain the opponent had to endure. As blood spilled, tainted the white snow below, the poor knight begged and bowed for mercy. Disoriented by the reality, Kazuya's eyes caught with the poor knight, a rather young man not more than his twenties. His stark ember eyes bawled for help, mouthing words Kazuya couldn’t comprehend.

Despite the plea, the dueler, still in jagged breath, showed no slight mercy, as his will remain unwavering. With his hand tightening his grip, his blade ran back through his opponent’s neck, delivering its final blow. The cry abruptly silenced, leaving only its echoes in the air—laden upon Kazuya’s ears. The dueler mercilessly slaughtered his opponent before Kazuya’s very eyes. He couldn’t bear it; it felt real as it could be. This was just a dream, he thought while trying to calm himself. The dueler swung his sword into the snow, splattering the blood of his enemy.

Kazuya’s heart thudded fast, pounding like a drum. Blood drained from his head, fueling the fear within him as the knight rushed toward him. He tried to move one of his legs, but it stuck between the horse's limbs. A yelp escaped from his throat as he shielded his dainty face with his arms.

“No, wait… D-don’t kill me!”

As his footsteps drew near, Kazuya took a peek through the narrow gap between his arms. Expecting something sinister to happen, but the knight took off his helmet; restlessness and confusion plastered all over the knight’s face. A rather young face, a teenage boy—not older than him; his face covered with mud, and blood running in his sweat.

“Leonard! Leon! Sion etu eskuhoren fi?” said the boy, placing his hand on Kazuya’s shoulder. The boy spoke a strange language that Kazuya couldn’t understand.

Kazuya froze, still couldn’t make any sense of what he saw. W-What the? What Is he speaking? It sounded like a European language. Wait… German? Spanish? No that’s not right, I couldn’t understand a thing what he was saying. The boy kept calling the name Leonard, but Kazuya didn’t budge at all.

Who is Leonard? Why is he looking at me when he says that name—My name is not Leonard! Kazuya searched for Leonard, but the boy remained fixed on him. Surely, he mistook me for this ‘Leonard’.

“W-Who are you?” Kazuya squeaked a little, lowering his guard. Somewhat curious. A sense of relief washed over the boy when he heard Kazuya’s voice. “Leon!” A sudden embrace wrapped around Kazuya’s body.

“Eh?” flustered Kazuya, uncomfortable. “W-Why are you hugging me?” Out of reflex, his hand attempted to push him away, to break free from the unexpected hug. Kazuya looked into the boy’s face but met with bewilderment. The boy stood up, blocking the glaring sunlight. A faint whisper of steel brushed against its leather sheath as he drew his sword.

“WAIT! No, no, no! Please don’t kill me!” winced Kazuya, begging for his life as the boy raised his sword to the air. Kazuya curled up and closed his eyes, bracing for the impact. A humming of a sword slashed passed through his ears. Welp, I guess it would help me wake up from this dream, for better or worse. But to his surprise, as he opened his eyes, he was still in his dream, alive. Instead, a clean, deep cut went through the horse’s limbs, freeing him from the tangled.

“Gapont ep fin ligalda!” shouted the boy in a sense of hurry in his tone.

The boy lowered his body into a squat position, signaling Kazuya to hop on his back. Sensing the looming threat, his face reddened, flicking his head from side to side. Do I really need to get on his back? Eh, what the heck, it's just a dream, anyway. Kazuya had no choice but to swallow his pride and get on his back.

Ugh… it's a bit embarrassing.

Kazuya tightened his grip on the boy’s shoulder, afraid of slipping from the boy’s back. The boy rose and let out a tired exhale. “Souitstel naustade, Leon!” The boy leaned forward, and with Kazuya on his back, he sprinted, fleeing away from their initial place.

Kazuya’s head darted in confusion, scanning his surroundings. “It’s cold,” he whispered. A vast snowy plain with dark clouds gathered in the distance, towering on the horizon. Dead bodies scattered around them, bathed the snow with their blood and the smell of the scorched earth was pungent, festering in the air. The crows circled above them, sang their forbidding melodies, imposing a dreadful lullaby upon his ears. It seemed a little too real for a dream, more vivid than he thought it would.

A lucid dream. I think. I read about it somewhere on the Internet.

A pulsating sensation still wrapped around his head, even worse than before. He overthought it, pondering upon all these events unveiled before his eyes. A dream, yes, a dream nothing more than that; the wildest dream he had since he was a kid. The seven-year-old of him would love this kind of dream. Now, twice his age, deep down, he wanted to believe it, yet uneasiness gripped his feelings.

There’s nothing I can do, huh? Even though this is my dream, I can't even control it for a bit.

Just a few minutes ago, he believed he was still on his school field trip on their way to the Kyoto National Museum. Seated by the window, while beside him, was Nozomi, who wouldn't stop yapping about his new mecha collection. Adding to the chaos in front of him was Mirai, who wouldn’t stop teasing him throughout the trips. Not to mention the cacophony of chatter from left to right, front and back, invading his ears.

He was not being rude or anything, but he needed that moment of solitude before arriving at the museum. Eventually, he took shelter in his headphones and put on some music as an escape route, falling asleep because of it. Still, he couldn’t wrap his head around what and why this dream felt so real.

He could smell, he could feel pain, and he could feel the touch—so much so for just a daydream.

Kazuya thought to himself, maybe he was right, he should’ve stayed at home. It would be much better to shut in his room, looking at his monitor screen and playing some game instead. Yet, the reason he looked for the trip was to search for inspiration; an ambition that he once had since he was young.

Kazuya adored painting, more than anything, even more than his gaming obsession.

But not always.

At least, for now.

Like any child would dream, he dreamed many dreams. One day he wanted to be a doctor, the other day he wanted to be a pilot, and then he wanted to be a game designer, but he ended up resorting to only one dream. In the end, becoming an artist was Kazuya's greatest dream. At least, it was what he thought.

***

“You know why I called you here right? Satou-kun, do you realize you’re the only one that hasn’t handed in the career aspirations sheet?”

Kazuya glanced over to the windows, gazing at his classmates hanging out on the courtyard. His mind seemed to wander aimlessly, the question about his future career seemed to be distant for him to grasp.

“Do you have a hobby? Or maybe a dream perhaps?” His teacher’s voice brought him back to the present.

“Not particularly.”

The teacher sighed, stretching her arm up. “Oh, that reminded me. Weren’t you the one who represented the school in the art competition last year?

“Then, how about becoming an artist or a mangaka that seems to be popular these days you know?”

Leonard clenched his palm and hesitated to answer it at first, “Uh… Yeah, about that, I actually gave up on that.”

“No way, what's happened?”

It had been months since he laid down his clutter of brushes dusted in the shelves, months since he abandoned his dream to become an artist. His mother's words echoed in his mind that if he didn’t want to draw anymore then he should have focused more on his academics, which in fact, he did. But his grades in school were somewhat decent, although he was not improving anything, not in academics, nor in his art.

Maybe I'm not cut out to be an artist. I-I just can't, No matter how I tried to improve it, I just couldn’t do it. A life in his own bubble, stuck timelessly in the endless dream he knew he couldn’t get, while everyone else was moving forward.

“Satou-kun?”

“A-ah… I’m sorry, Nomura-sensei,” Kazuya snapped back, meeting his teacher’s eyes.

“I thought I lost you for a second there,” she sighed. “Well It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. Everyone must have their own personal reason right?”

“Sensei?”

“Just let this old woman tell you something. Don’t let these opportunities that you have gained slip from your grasp.”

“Why?”

“Because you only live once.”

***

Kazuya turned his head back. In the distance, an incoming cloud of dust emerged on the horizon. The thunderous sound of galloping horses shaking the ground beneath them. Kazuya, still delirious, couldn't process what he saw. He slapped and pinched his skin, questioning every inch of his sanity because nothing out of this made any sense to him.

His eyes widened as something bright moved inside the dark cloud above them. A barrage of fiery balls pierced through the cloud, hurtling towards them. Kazuya’s heart raced, he patted the boy’s shoulder out of blue, urging him to run faster as tension gripped his chest.

“R-run faster!” startled Kazuya. With his agility, the boy dodged all the incoming fire while still keeping his pacing.

“Nik niere achtras!”

“W-what are you s-saying, I-I don’t understand,” shrieked Kazuya in panic. The boy motioned his hand and pointed forward. “Oh? You mean I need to look forward?” Kazuya imitated the boy’s hand movement, and he nodded in agreement.

As they both followed their path ahead, the wet dark trails led to the forest, trying to escape the horsemen's grip. Kazuya squinted his eyes, inspecting the forest way ahead of them.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” He pointed his finger forward at the forest.

The boy glanced back at him. He was a bit confused by what Kazuya said, but he nodded, nonetheless. To Kazuya, the boy probably thought the same as him and he was not slowing down.

A perfect place to hide.