(Dylan)

  Dream 4 – Lost

  Dylan stood in the middle of his high school hallway again, staring down its long, familiar stretch. Today, he was supposed to get his report card—something he’d been looking forward to. He’d worked especially hard this time, determined to see his marks improve.

  Just like all the other times, he’d collect his grades in homeroom and then head home. Only this time, something was off. His homeroom wasn’t where it was supposed to be. He knew where he wanted to go, just not how to get there, which felt ridiculous—he’d walked this hall hundreds of times.

  ‘Where is it? Why can’t I remember?’ He spun around at the crossroads of a four-way intersection. ‘Which way?’ he wondered. His hands tightened their grip on the straps of his backpack as the edges of the hallway started to feel more oppressive. The walls seemed closer than before, or maybe the ceiling wasn’t as high?

  He went left, his footsteps scuffing against the tiled floor as he hurried on. He passed one set of lockers, followed by another, and then another. With each turn, the hallway continued to stretch and branch, taking him deeper into the labyrinth.

  Students passed him by. The faces of his friends and peers grew hazy, making it hard to tell them apart. Yet, they all seemed to know exactly where they were heading. Why didn’t he?

  On a nearby wall, a stuck clock caught his attention. The hands ticked back-and-forth between two seconds, repeating the same motion, moving, yet going nowhere—just like him.

  His gut dropped at the thought of never reaching his destination. His heart pounded in his chest as he turned another corner, only to find an identical hallway staring back at him. It was the same as before: more lockers, flickering lights, and blurry faces. He quickened his pace to match his pulse.

  ‘Maybe I missed it? Or did I pass it? Which room number was it again?’

  “Dylan,” a muffled voice called out. Grabbing on to its hope, he spun toward the sound. Maybe they could help him? He headed toward the voice that knew his name, breaking into a light jog.

  “Dylan…” the voice called out again. Only this time, it was louder.

  “I’m here,” he replied, spinning around to find a familiar landmark—anything that made sense. But there was nothing.

  Dylan reached out to tap someone on the shoulder to ask for help. “Excuse me—” But they ignored him, continuing with their own lives. Everyone was leaving him behind.

  Panic seized his chest, and he couldn’t breathe. Just like his lungs, he was working hard but getting nowhere. He hated feeling so lost.

  “Dylan,” the voice called more urgently.

  “Present!” Dylan said. If they were taking attendance and calling for him, he must be close. He just needed to find the right door. The lights above him flickered and dimmed. Dylan’s breaths grew shallow as the walls seemed to close in. But the more he walked, the more the lockers stretched on.

  “Dylan!” the voice yelled, now pounding on a door as if trying to draw his attention. He froze, straining to listen, desperate to figure out which direction to go. The pounding grew louder and sharper until it was impossible to tell if it came from outside or within.

  Dylan woke up to the sound of Nathan’s voice.

  “Dylan! Are you still asleep? It’s almost noon!” Nathan banged his fists against the solid runelock door.

  “Sorry!”

  Dylan sat up groggily, blinking at the harsh light of the room. He’d forgotten to shut the shades before going to sleep, and as Nathan pointed out, it was well into the day; the sun was high in the cloudless sky, shining brightly. He sat up, kicking his legs over the side of the bed.

  “Oh good. I was getting worried when you didn’t respond. May I come in?”

  Dylan glanced down at his nakedness. “Uh… give me a second,” he said, scurrying across the room. His first-floor window stood wide open, and he used one hand to cover his unmentionables while digging out fresh clothes with the other.

  A minute passed without a response. So Nathan asked to check in on him, “Dylan…?”

  “Yeah, hang on. Still getting ready.” Dylan sat on the corner of his bed, pulling on the fresh pair of leather boots Charles had dropped off last night. “What time is the meeting with K’hab?”

  “About two hours, and that’ll be Guildmaster K’hab once you join the guild. Might want to practice using the title before it earns you extra chores for a week.”

  “Chores?”

  Dylan, now much less naked, got to his feet, but there was still something missing. He glanced around the room, running through his mental checklist. ‘Boots, pants, belt, shirt, and what else is there?’

  It wasn’t his cloak; he wouldn’t need it on a nice day like today. It also wasn’t his glasses. Using the Time orb had restored his vision. And his phone hadn’t transmigrated… transported—reincarnated? Honestly, the specifics of how he got from Earth to Mother of Dragons remained a mystery. But, however he got here, his phone hadn’t come along for the ride, so not that either.

  “Yeah,” Nathan said. “Each member not on a team, active contract, or quest gets added to the daily roster for chores. It encourages everyone to keep busy.”

  ‘The hat!’ Dylan thought. He’d gotten used to wearing it and now felt underdressed without it.

  Dylan walked over and unlocked the door, its gears, pistons, and inner workings whirring with a final clunk as it opened.

  A handsome elf with spiky, sapphire-blue hair that matched his eyes waited on the other side of the door. Most elves had metallic flecks in their eyes—except Nathan.

  ‘Maybe it’s because of his passive?’ Dylan wondered as he searched Nathan’s kind eyes for answers.

  It made sense that passive abilities could alter the body. Athrax, for instance, had a pair of badass cybernetic arms—a result of magic adapting his body.

  Dylan learned a lot about Athrax on the trip home. The old soldier started easing up on Dylan after he’d found and retrieved the skill book, making sure they didn’t go home empty-handed for their efforts.

  When they’d first met, Athrax refused to learn any of the initiate’s names until they survived their first quest. Dylan learned that wasn’t just a joke. The old soldier had been part of a mundane army before forced retirement gave him the opportunity to become an adventurer. And since not everyone survived their first mission, it was a lot easier to forget those they’d lost if they didn’t have a name.

  Nathan’s eyes narrowed on Dylan, taking him in with a concerned look. “Did you have trouble sleeping last night?”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “No, why?”

  “Do you normally sleep for fourteen hours?” Nathan attempted to play it off as a joke with a grin, but the yellow hue in his eyes betrayed his concern.

  Dylan shook his head with a light chuckle. “Normally, no, but I was exhausted. Hard to get any actual sleep when you’re tossing and turning on an empty stomach all night long.”

  “I wanted to talk to you about that.”

  Nathan looked Dylan up and down. It was the first real chance he’d had since Dylan got back.

  “You’re looking good…” he said. Their eyes met, lingering for a moment before he continued his examination. “A bit too good, actually. And far too quickly.” He gave a half frown. “I’m concerned about how you’re doing it.” He reached out to take Dylan’s chin in hand, turning him to see each profile.

  “What do you mean?” Dylan asked as he was being elf-handled. There was something different in the way the prismatic elf looked at him. Nathan had always used a tender touch. But Nathan’s interest felt different now, less clinical, and more… personal.

  “I’ve read Runemist’s clinical debrief—”

  “You read her what?” Dylan asked, cutting him off.

  “Sorry.” Nathan offered a handsome smile with his apology. “I often forget not everyone is a mender. I’m not used to spending this much time away from the hospital…” He ran a hand through his spiky hair and glanced away.

  “When handing off patients from one mender, or physician, to another, it’s good practice to document pertinent information. We call it a clinical debrief.”

  Dylan’s brow furrowed, and he asked, “What did she say about me?”

  “A lot. The report is quite extensive. I think she’d been working on it for most of the trip back. I haven’t had time to speak with Wedge yet, but I’ve a decent idea what you’ve gone through…”

  Nathan looked at Dylan with gray eyes. “You’ve been through a lot in such a brief time, and I’m worried about you. I know it’s been only a few weeks, but do you have anyone to talk to about everything that’s been going on?” He waited patiently for an answer.

  That was a good question. Dylan had made loads of friends; it was sort of his thing. He thought of A’liyah, but would never want to add to her burden. She was already dealing with a lot. Not to mention he probably wouldn’t see her again anytime soon.

  Meekan came to mind next. She’d already said he was her best friend, which made him smile—until his cheeks flushed at the thought of opening up to her with a heart-to-heart chat. He really liked her and didn’t want to look like the bumbling idiot he was.

  W’itney took nothing seriously, and while Hay’len was fantastic with facts, they shied away when discussing anything more mutable, such as emotions or mental health.

  Runemist might have been a good choice, but she was already off on her next adventure with Quinten and the rest of her team. And Wedge? He was literally a stone wall—good for bouncing things off, but not much else.

  He’d had a couple of moments with Eury, who’d been kind and receptive when he opened up. But she was still giving him the cold shoulder over his little jumping-off-the-ship-to-take-on-a-kaiju-alone stunt.

  “Shouldn’t we get going?” Dylan asked, deflecting the question.

  Nathan shrugged. “We’ve got time,” he said, squeezing his way into Dylan’s room. “Besides, there’s something I want to talk to you about before your meeting.” He slid back the desk chair and took a seat, facing Dylan’s unkempt bed.

  Embarrassed by his own untidiness, Dylan said, “I was gonna make it when I got back…” He wasn’t used to having company. Back on Earth, he’d lived alone. And for the past couple of weeks, he’d slept in a hammock that didn’t require tidying up between uses.

  Dylan shut the door behind him and hurried over to the bed, yanking the sheets up to the pillows. He smoothed out the wrinkles with a hand the best he could, before turning around to sit on the mostly straightened sheets.

  “What do you want to talk about?” he asked.

  “Anything, really,” Nathan said, sliding into a slouch on the chair. “I’d understand if you think of me as just your physician, but I won’t always be your physician. Well…” He hesitated, stumbling over his thoughts. “I’ll always be a physician, and I’ll always help you, but…” Dylan felt a connection with Nathan, seeing that he wasn’t the only one who could be awkward.

  Nathan kicked his leg over his other as he glanced down at his crossed boots. “What I’m trying to say is, I care about you. You’re not just some contract I picked up. And we’ll be guildmates long after your contract ends. Who knows, maybe after we’re common-ranked, you’d want to join a team with me.”

  Dylan looked up, surprised. “You’d want me to join your team?”

  Nathan let out a laugh. “Give it a week. Once the story of your first quest gets around, everyone’s going to want you for their team.”

  “I wasn’t even there, and I think you’re amazing. Of course, I’d want you.” Nathan’s smile faded into flushed cheeks. “For… for my team,” he stuttered as he glanced away. “Of course, I’d want you for my team.” He rubbed the back of his neck, the chair creaking as he sat upright.

  “Thanks,” Dylan said at Nathan’s kind words. His smile faded as he looked away, reflecting on his recent adventure. “I thought starving was the worst part…”

  “Starving?”

  “Yeah… Out of the past two weeks, I starved for half of it. But it turned out to be a great distraction from something even worse.”

  He paused, thinking back on almost losing Eury. The Captain, her regretful decision, and parting letter. Even A’liyah’s grim reality surfaced, along with the rest of his suppressed emotions. Tears blurred his vision as he let himself remember. Dylan waited a few moments, mulling over his thoughts and feelings.

  “Do you…” His voice cracked, his emotions threatening to bring the rest of him down with it. “Do you know what crystalis is?” Nathan nodded silently, and he was glad.

  Dylan wasn’t sure he could handle explaining it. The prismatic elf sat quietly as he told his side of the story. It was nothing like the heroic fairytale that the twins had crafted. They’d conveniently skipped over the fear, uncertainty, and doubt that dogged him every step of the way.

  Dylan spent the better part of the next hour sharing with Nathan what had really happened on the quest. But he was extra careful to avoid the resets or the fucked-up events that took place during them. It was upsetting to know he’d never have anyone to share the burdens of his secrets with.

  The better part of an hour later…

  “Wow…” Nathan said, his voice barely above a whisper. At some point, Nathan moved to sit beside him on the bed. “That’s… I’m sorry, I just don’t know what to say.”

  Dylan sniffled. “It’s okay. You were right.” He wiped his sleeve under his nose. “Felt good to let it out.”

  Nathan looked like he wanted to hug Dylan, but his professionalism kept him in check as he wrung his hands in his lap. Dylan, never one to shy away from hugs, leaned in, prompting the prismatic elf to give in and comfort him. It was nice for both of them as Dylan hugged him back.

  Dylan was the last to let go, and Nathan’s face was flushed once again.

  “We should probably get going now,” Dylan said.

  “Yeah. Don’t want to be late.”

  Dylan stood and made his way to the door. “You said there was something you wanted to talk about before the meeting,” he said over his shoulder to Nathan.

  “Yeah…” Nathan’s voice turned regretful. Dylan figured he was still processing everything from the trip—Nathan had a big heart, just like him.

  “I know I’m not supposed to ask, but…” Nathan’s voice trailed off.

  Dylan spun around in the now open doorframe and asked, “Yeah?”

  The prismatic elf turned his back to Dylan, tidying up his bed as an excuse to hide the gray in his eyes from him.

  “What, uh… did you find?” He untucked the corners and picked up the sheets, letting them fall squarely into place as he sat them back down.

  “What do you mean?”

  Nathan swallowed hard, straightening the edges before tucking them tightly under the corners. “What was the quest for?” he asked.

  “Oh, just some book.”

  “A book?” Nathan asked quietly.

  “Yeah, some skill book. But don’t worry, I didn’t touch it,” Dylan said with a proud smile.

  Nathan froze, still leaning over the bed. Slowly, he ran a hand over the last wrinkle before standing straight and stepping back to reveal the perfectly made bed.

  “Go on ahead,” Nathan said, his voice thicker than usual. “I’ll catch up… I just need to use the restroom.” He stayed facing the bed as Dylan walked out of the room.

  “Alright.”

  Dylan waited down the hall as Nathan slipped into the bathroom. He thought he felt a slight quake in the floor under his boots, and then a muffled shout followed shortly after, coming from the bathroom. Just before Dylan reached the restroom to ask if everything was okay, the door opened and Nathan stepped out.

  As the prismatic elf pushed past him to head down the hall, Dylan caught a glimpse of his puffy eyes. Nathan had a slight limp in his gait, favoring his left foot as he marched down the hall. Dylan had to hurry to catch up.

  “You good?”

  “Yeah.” Nathan wiped his cheek with the palm of his hand. “Come on. It’s this way.”

  Nathan was uncharacteristically quiet on their walk to the guildhall. His limp cleared up once they reached the guildmaster’s personal library, which doubled as a reception area.

  Floor-to-ceiling bookcases covered the walls and formed partitions of their own, creating a small labyrinth in the not-so-small library. Dylan wondered how many books were magical, meaning he could read them, and how many were mundane, which he’d have to learn to read. He leaned over, threatening to tip his chair while trying to read the book spines on the closest shelf.

  Nathan hadn’t even looked his way since they’d left his room, and Dylan wondered what was on his mind.

  They sat in silence for another ten minutes until the attendant, an obsidian-scaled draconi, appeared with Eury and Meekan.

  Dylan shot to his feet. “Did you…?”

  Eury gave him a quick nod and a half grin, but didn’t pause before following the attendant.

  “She did great,” Meekan said before they both exited the room.

  ‘She passed,’ he thought, smiling. He was excited for her and eager to see how the rest of them did. A pang of guilt hit him for not being there when W’itney and Hay’len had their meeting.

  “Nathan, Guildmaster K’hab will see you first,” the attendant said.