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Dreamer – Part 06

Ominous footsteps approached from down the corridor.

“Hey, Grevil!”

“Sir!”

“About an hour from now.”

“Yes…”

“The King will come to check on her. Tonight marks the beginning of extraordinary days.”

“I see.”

“Until then. Make sure to give her plenty of water and the food. Got it?”

“Understood!”

Marquis de Blois and his entourage exited the prison, leaving only Victorique and Grevil in the stone chamber.

Grevil’s hands shook violently. His complexion had drained of all color. Staring down at his half-sister, who was unconscious for quite some time now, he covered his face with both hands.

“Oh, but sister. I’ve never defied father!” Cold sweat poured out of him. “Forgive me. Father’s orders are absolute.” He shook his golden head. “Oh, how I miss the sun. I…”

He picked up a plate from the floor and offered bread to Victorique’s mouth. When her mechanically opened mouth attempted to chew, he abruptly snatched it away and threw it on the ground.

Then, shaking his head, he lifted a water jug and brought it close to Victorique’s mouth next. She opened her lips and drank the water.

Grevil’s face reflected a struggle between conflicting emotions. His lips turned completely pale, and sweat poured profusely from his forehead.

There’s a lot of drugs in today’s water and food. While her ability to predict the future might increase, if she consumes all of this, she might not come back. My sister might die.

After observing Victorique drink about half of it, he suddenly yelped and snatched away the water jug. Then for some reason, he brought it to his own mouth, taking several mouthfuls. Immediately, he tottered, dropped the water jug, and fell to his knees. Water mixed with drugs spilled, forming a puddle.

Grevil, already affected by the drugs, mumbled, “Victorique. My blasted, verbally abusive, terrifying, and cruel half-sister who has mocked me since our first meeting.” He moved closer to Victorique.

Affected by the drugs, Victorique had closed her eyes, her limbs limp, showing no signs of movement. Grevil, with a sorrowful and regretful outcry, embraced his sister’s frail body tightly.

A younger sister he not only avoided touching but even detested getting close to.

Grevil held his sister like he did when he carried around his favorite doll. His sister, cold to the touch, now truly resembled a delicate porcelain doll. The absence of body warmth added to Grevil’s confusion, leaving him increasingly distressed.

Driven by guilt, sorrow, or escalating frustration, he screamed, “Hey! Wake up, Victorique de Blois! You’re not the type to die over something like this! Return to being the terrifying little brat who used to frighten me to death every time I climbed the stone tower of the Blois Castle!”

There was no response. Grevil, also feeling sluggish from the effects of the drugs, felt lost.

“Please. Don’t die. I may as well have killed my sister. Please, come back to life… Victorique!”

“What’s all this ruckus about?”

“There’s some weirdo here.”

“Who is this guy?”

“And he’s crying.”

Out of nowhere, voices sounded in the otherwise empty stone chamber, surprising Grevil. He lifted his head to see Victorique in a blue dress—or rather, a grown-up version of Victorique, with a calm, sharp gaze reminiscent of a polished sword.

Behind her were the legs of two men. The three visitors materialized in the darkness without any footsteps or any other signs, as if they were phantoms.

“Hmm. This is Albert’s eldest son and the half-brother of the cub. I don’t know why he’s crying, though. Brian.”

Grevil quickly glanced outside the stone chamber. The soldiers who were supposed to be on guard a moment ago were nowhere to be found. The wind had quieted as well. It felt like he was in a different space, where time itself had frozen.

Grevil attempted to say something, but the drugs took their hold. His head drooped slowly. He could hear the distant, eerie voices of the men.

“Can we get rid of him?”

“He’s a hindrance.”

“The life of Albert de Blois’s son…”

“…does not matter to us. Right, Cordelia?”

Sensing danger, Grevil shuddered.

“Wait. Pointless killing sullies the pride of beasts, Brian,” Cordelia Gallo said softly.

Three people, no, three Gray Wolves, appearing from out nowhere, dominated the space entirely. Cordelia, eyeing the terrified Grevil suspiciously, wiped the water around his mouth with her slender fingers and sniffed it with her tiny, delicate nose.

Then in turn, she examined the fallen water jug, the scattered bread, and the motionless wolf cub with cold eyes.

“Drugged water,” she said. “But why is it around this guy’s mouth? And there’s bread scattered, too.”

“Well.”

“Who knows?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Let’s get rid of him.”

“Mm…”

Cordelia and the two Brians exchanged glances, seemingly discussing something. The men suggested killing because it was trouble, while Cordelia insisted on providing aid. Grevil understood it was a dire situation, but his entire body was unsteady due to the drugs.

“Ugh…”

Grevil crumpled, sprawled out on Victorique’s lap. Cordelia silently observed the sight.

“Fine,” Brian said. “We won’t kill him.”

“But he’s still a problem.”

“There shouldn’t be more than two people in this chamber, or the guards will notice. Cordelia and I will remain.”

“We have to take this weirdo outside as well.”

“Three of us came here. One Brian and I will stay. Then the other Brian, Victorique, and this guy—you three will leave. The numbers add up.”

“I see.”

“As you wish.”

The way the two men communicated felt odd, as if they were one, but consciousness was gradually slipping away.

The sound of clothing rustling indicated someone changing. Then came Cordelia’s voice saying, “Tell her: ‘to the future.’”

“I’m very sorry, Brian.”

“Now it’s really goodbye.”

Someone carried him from the side and walked away. It became apparent that he was being taken out of the stone chamber.

Toward a place bathed in sunlight. For the first time in his life, defying his terrifying father. Into the outside world.

Rocking, he felt his pointed, golden hair unraveling, bobbing heavily from side to side.

To the outside. Into the sunlight.

Grevil’s consciousness was fading…

---

The oppressive dark stone chamber and the outside corridor were filled with Royal Knights. Each one had their weapons ready, eyes fixed at the intruders—Cordelia Gallo and Brian Roscoe.

“Unlike you, Albert, we don’t resort to unnecessary killing,” Cordelia said.

Marquis Albert de Blois’s eyes flickered darkly behind his monocle, glaring down at Cordelia.

“We freed your son. He will choose his own path, follow his heart’s desire.”

“Hmph.”

The Marquis took a step forward. His pale lips slowly parted, revealing yellowed teeth.

“Do you think you two can escape?”

“…No.”

Cordelia, with calm yet cold and fiery eyes, held her ground. The dreamer’s emerald green eyes gradually cleared, filling with a fresh green like new leaves.

“My path likely ends here,” she said. “Long ago, I was born in the Kingdom of Saillune, a place known as the Nameless Village, through the whims of the ancient gods lingering on this Old World. Branded a criminal at a young age, I was banished and ended up alone in Saubreme, the capital of Sauville. I was very young then. I found work as a dancer at the Phantom theater, made friends, and met Brian Roscoe. But then, I caught the attention of a demon. Entangled in the strange wheel of fate, I birthed a cub destined to shape the fate of the Old World and became the ultimate Dark Virgin Mary. After escaping the demon’s clutches, I continued to watch over the cub from the shadows. Now, amidst the chaos brought about by the second storm, I’ve seized the final opportunity. Albert, I’ve retrieved the cub from your hands and I will send her into the future… My path ends here!”

Cordelia’s expression showed neither fear nor anxiety; instead, it seemed oddly joyful.

“On that fateful night I was banished from the Kingdom of Saillune, I watched as the drawbridge rose coldly. Left alone in a deep forest, I walked away trembling. Had I stayed in the village, various events that weren’t supposed to happen would not have unfolded. The wheel of my destiny that started turning that night stops now. I have nothing to fear!”

“I see…”

The Marquis wore an exceedingly cruel yet strangely satisfied expression.

Brian sidled up to Cordelia. The Royal Knights waited for the Marquis’s orders with bated breath.

Marquis de Blois’s dry lips parted as he said something. Then, he slowly moved his right hand toward the top of his head, giving a signal.