Phoenix was running through the snowy mountains in a familiar nightmare. She hadn’t quite figured that part out yet, though, as she stumbled while being chased down by a swarm of miserlings. As she ran into a sheer cliff forming a deadend, her panic spiked and she turned to prepare for a fight, conjuring her [Night Armament] and Sanctified Hope as swords.

  “Miserlings?” Emrys’ voice asked, full of the disgust she felt as well, as he suddenly appeared beside her. He was dressed in oddly skimpy armor this time that looked more like art than actual protection as it showed off his muscles.

  She was so surprised by his abrupt presence that she almost stabbed him, but he easily dodged out of the way and clicked his tongue at her. “Well, that’s no way to greet anyone, let alone a friend.”

  “I don’t remember fully agreeing to being friends,” she retorted, looking from him to the massive swarm that seemed to slow their approach at the appearance of the Emerald Caster.

  “That’s a bit hurtful,” he replied with a frown. He glanced over at the monsters and asked, “Those are Crystal Caste. Seems odd for you to have a nightmare over such an easily killable creature. Did something happen to you with some during the blood moon?”

  She bit her bottom lip, not wanting to admit anything, but thought it might be weird to just not answer so she admitted, “I got caught by a pack of them. Sheer luck that I survived… I’ve been having nightmares of them since but not, like, constantly anymore.”

  Emrys turned back to assess her again before giving a soft smile. “Well, let’s get rid of them for this dream, shall we?” He simply waved a hand and the miserlings vanished and both of them were suddenly standing upon a mountain’s peak overlooking the Tulim tundra. Far in the distance she could just make out the towering skyscrapers of Tulimeir and a pang of longing hit her. She glanced northward slightly but frowned as she didn’t see the World Tree.

  “I haven’t visited the tundra again since the Sacred City was added to the landscape,” Emrys admitted as he gazed out at the scene with her. “This view is from my memories about five years ago when I visited after hitting Emerald Caste.”

  “How are you doing this?” Phoenix finally asked, unable to hide the awe in her voice.

  “Trying to pry my secrets?” he said, but his voice was a light tease as he moved to sit on the edge of the peak’s cliff.

  “At this point, I just want to know if it’s something I can learn to do too so I can keep the nightmares away.”

  He softly chuckled. “I’m afraid not. Though, if you wish it, I could visit your dreams every night just to make sure they’re safe and cozy for you.”

  She sat down beside him with a huff. “That’s actually really tempting. You’re not quite as bad as the miserlings or watching my family die.”

  His laugh was fuller that time as she teased him back and he replied, “Not quite the compliment I was hoping for. You know, if you want my secrets, being kinder may go a lot farther.”

  Phoenix raised her brow at that and asked, “Is that why you’ve been so helpful? Because you want our secrets?”

  “I wouldn’t say no to learning them, but I haven’t asked for them, have I?” he pointed out, and she realized he was right. “I hoped that by being kind along with being authentic, that my actions would back up the words I’ve already said multiple times; I wish to be your friend. There’s not many people in the world who can stand as an equal to a prince, even fewer that I actually find interesting enough to befriend.”

  He turned to look her in the eyes as he asked, “What can I possibly say or do, to assure you that I want to be friends?”

  She thought about that for a long moment, looking out onto the tundra she had come to think of as her home. Finally she said, “Help us without asking why.”

  “I’ve already done that. You’ll have to be more specific about what exactly it is you want me to help with. After all, you are the one who came here bringing a request for an alliance without actually telling us what it is your family is suddenly after,” he pointed out.

  Then he added with a sigh, “It’s making my mother worried that you’re all plotting something. It’s already sketchy enough that this deal is being attempted with Paul in a cursed stasis. Why not just wait for him to awaken if it was my mother’s love he truly sought? What is it that Serenydi has that House Wayland wants? Our resources and wealth? Access to our Labyrinth? An allied nation backing up their House when they plan to secede from Blomsterang?”

  “I’m not sure I should answer any of that,” she replied, realizing that he wasn’t wrong about them being the sketchy ones in this situation. Especially after the lengthy discussion they had about getting what they wanted and backing out. Using them was exactly what they had been plotting.

  “And yet you’re the one acting as though I’m untrustworthy?” Emrys said while frowning and turning back to the horizon where the sun was setting. “It feels like no matter what I might say or do, you don’t want to even try to believe me. I thought someone who was a Saint of so many radiant deities—especially the Hero—wouldn’t be so quick to judge people or assume the worst. Maybe I was wrong about thinking we can be friends…”

  Phoenix’s frown deepened as she couldn’t find a good argument against what he was saying. After a moment, she suggested, “How about a trade of trust?”

  He simply raised a silver brow at her, so she continued, “You tell me what the queen is thinking of responding to our request with and why she wanted Paul in the first place, and I’ll tell you what it is that I want specifically.”

  “You want something separate from the Alliance?” he asked, but seemed to be thinking it over.

  “Yes,” she replied. “I can’t tell you what Paul or Patricia wanted from it, though.” She wasn’t going to mention the fact that the reason she couldn’t tell him was simply because she had no idea.

  “What about your brother?”

  “I know Dazien wants what I want, I’m not sure if he agrees with the rest, though. You’d have to ask him.”

  “He does seem slightly more willing to be my friend than you do,” Emrys pointed out. Then he sighed and added, “I’ll take that leap of trust, though. My mother is thinking about accepting the delayed marriage to Paul with the stipulation that he can’t abdicate his position as the Head of House Wayland and that Alliance agreements are signed by you beforehand… She’s also contemplating pairing Emina with Dazien. The High Priests Council is still debating with her. She wants Paul, but they prefer the safer option of your brother.”

  “What about you?”

  “What?” he asked, seemingly caught off guard by the question.

  “Which option do you prefer?” she clarified, then offered him a small smile. “That’s just me being curious. It’s not actually that important.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “Curiosity is good. Keeps things interesting,” he said, then leaned back to rest on his hands. “I think I prefer Paul marrying my mother, but that’s probably because I’ve admired him ever since I first heard of him as a child. He was a hero the bards would tell stories of. The Blade of Pure Wrath that traveled across Pyrin to hunt the Corrupted and cleanse the land of the undead taint.”

  She chuckled, and he grinned at her as he admitted, “When I heard my mother wanted to propose to him I got so excited. The idea of having a hero for a father sounded incredible…” He paused as he seemed to realize something and added, “I guess you would know what that actually feels like, wouldn’t you?”

  Phoenix flushed slightly and nodded, “Paul was… well, he wasn’t perfect, but then again, neither am I. We fit together, though. Two pieces of the same puzzle,” she fondly said, remembering Uriel’s analogy. “He taught me so much and probably protected me from even more. I can’t wait for him to wake up and tell him about everything else that had happened while he slept. I want to make more memories with him, too.”

  If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  Emrys’ smile became soft as he reached out a hand to brush away a curl from her face, but he paused before doing so as he glanced down at her neck, and dropped his hand back to his side. “My mother believed Paul was going to be one of the greatest Casters this continent had seen since the Dawn of Kings. She was almost as entranced by him as I was. He was only Emerald Caste, yet he had traveled the entire continent, discovered a holy relic, and made a name for himself as the unbeatable Paladin who would smite every foe that dared to cross him.

  “When he came here to visit, she had become even more enamored by him. He was noble and stoic, but he learned our language, participated in our holidays, and donned the torc. He showed respect for our culture and was kind to us… until a lot of things suddenly went very wrong and she felt forced to banish him. I think my mother hopes to reconcile and finally get to marry the man she fell in love with all those years ago.”

  He seemed to shake himself slightly, as if returning from his memories to the present before asking, “Well, I’ve made the leap. Am I going to get your trust in return now?”

  Phoenix shifted slightly, fairly sure Dazien might scold her when he found out she had confided in the people they were planning to trick, but the more she thought about that the more she realized it really was being unfair to Emrys and his mother. “I want access to the Royal Library so I can do some research.”

  He seemed to be waiting for her to continue, blinked a few times, then clarified, “That’s it?”

  “Well, that’s the first part,” she admitted. “There might be more depending on what we find out there.”

  Emrys laughed, long and loud, and it rang through the mountain range. She merely huffed in annoyance until he seemed to regain control of himself and finally said, “You don’t need to have your dad or brother marry one of us for that.”

  “Well, then how do I get it?” she asked, feeling a bit miffed.

  He grinned. “By being my friend.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I think a friend would have told me how they can hijack my dreams.”

  Emrys returned her eye roll but softly asked, “If I tell you… will you swear to me it doesn’t leave the confidence of your party? I don’t want to make you keep secrets from them, but I don’t exactly want other nations finding out my Class.”

  Phoenix gave a small smirk. “So it is a special power only you have?” He shook his head and chuckled at her slight antics, but she quickly added, “I won’t tell anyone else, and I’ll make sure my party doesn’t either.”

  Emrys gave her a long assessing look before finally smiling and saying, “I’m a Dream Weaver. I can slip into dreams, control them, make them beautiful. I can also craft illusions outside of a dreamscape.”

  Phoenix thought that actually sounded pretty awesome, especially if it meant no more nightmares, but had to ask, “Why don’t you want anyone else to know that?”

  “Because it’s not very combat-oriented,” he replied with a frown. “I’m afraid people—specifically other nations wanting to invade—might see my Class as a weakness to take advantage of. A ruler is expected to have the strength to defend their nation; if people think I can’t, they might go to war with us.”

  “Why didn’t you pick something more combat-oriented then?” she asked, curious why he would go with that if he didn’t seem to actually like it.

  “I was the third-born son, unexpected to rule at all. I was also partially tricked into it, but don’t really want to get into those messy details. Either way, after my brother died and my sister abdicated as Heir, that suddenly left me next in line to rule without a suitable Class to do so with. I’ve been doing my best to make it useful by focusing on my capabilities to gather a vast amount of information, but that alone won’t keep armies at bay. So, for the sake of my people, I ask you to keep my secret and hold that trust I’m placing in you.”

  She slowly nodded, thinking over the possible ramifications before asking, “So, how can you slip into my own dreamscapes? Is it an aura thing or something?”

  He gave a wicked grin as he said, “I just need to be able to see someone as they sleep.”

  “Oh… Wait… Are you watching me sleep right now?!” Emrys burst out laughing again, and she asked, “If I stab you in my dream, will you actually feel the pain but be okay in the real world?”

  “I’m definitely not answering that,” he managed to say. “I don’t want you to stab me every time I try to give you a pleasant night’s rest.”

  Her eyes narrowed at him as he kept chuckling at her, and with a quick shove, she pushed him off the cliff.

  Uriel sat in the far back corner of his [Fortress of Servitude]—which luckily seemed to count as magical instead of physical as well—and tried his best not to cry at the knowledge that he was being a terrible partner. Even if it felt out of his control, he felt like he had taken the coward’s way out by getting someone else to take his place to comfort Daze. All those years together, all those nights where he was the one waking from a nightmare, Dazien had always been there for him.

  Even on one of his first nights at the temple of the Parent, Dazien had snuck into his room at the sounds of his distress and woke him from it to halt his suffering. He had repaid the action by almost killing the small teenager, but even that hadn’t stopped Dazien from trying to help him.

  Now that Daze was the one with nightmares, he had run away.

  What else could he have done, though? Woken him up just to hurt him even more? Even if he had gotten clothes back on and woke him up, he knew Daze would have wanted more physical contact than he could give right now. Touching was almost as important and meaningful as gifts to Daze and both had usually not been a problem for him to provide before.

  Not being able to hold his king was also killing him.

  After a month of missing Dazien’s touch, never getting to feel it again was slowly driving him insane. He wasn’t sure how long he would survive without losing his mind at this point and just putting them both out of their misery… he thought about returning to the mainland and finding the nearest Emerald monster to take care of the job…

  “I don’t believe killing yourself would make Dazien feel better about all of this,” a voice that was oddly becoming more familiar said from in front of him. He looked down from the ceiling he had been staring at without actually seeing it, to find the Destroyer leaning against the wall perpendicular to him and looking at his nails like he was contemplating what might be wrong with them.

  “I thought you couldn’t read my mind,” he managed to whisper. “Can other gods really inform you that instantly?”

  “We have a system,” he replied. “I feel like you’re forgetting our earlier talk about this, though. You can’t protect anyone if you’re not around.”

  Uriel’s nose wrinkled as he held back those tears again. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this.”

  “You already did,” Destroyer replied. “The lovely little vixen has gotten him calm and back to sleep. Just because you can’t do it all yourself doesn’t mean you’re not helping. Isn’t that what you try to tell your destructive little Wayfarer?”

  He frowned at that, knowing the deity had a point. Everytime Phoenix found herself standing around playing the aura beacon she complained about not helping even though she definitely was. “Just because you’re not the one stabbing the monster doesn’t mean you didn’t help defeat it,” Uriel recited from his memories.

  “Exactly. That was some fairly good advice, I think, and I’ve seen my fair share.”

  Uriel gave a sigh and looked back up at the ceiling. “Are you going to keep showing up like this now whenever I start to spiral into a depression?”

  Destroyer actually chuckled at him and said, “You know, if you just dedicated yourself to me, I could just whisper these words you need to hear rather than showing up like this every time.”

  He frowned but actually thought about that this time. “Aside from your divine advice… what else might come with doing that?”

  It was silent for too long, but when Uriel glanced back down at the deity he only saw Destroyer carefully watching him. After another awkward beat of silence the god asked, “Are you seriously considering it?”

  Uriel shrugged. “If I’m going to start telling people you’ve chosen me, it might be useful… I think a lot of people find it odd that Phoenix hasn’t done so despite already being a Saint. The Saints and Avatars have always been seen as representatives of their deities’ will. How can they do that without their whispers? At least, that’s the usual line of thinking from my understanding.”

  Destroyer nodded. “A Soul Mark is proof to the world that a mortal was chosen by a deity… but a vow of dedication is proof that a deity was chosen by a mortal. We cannot force our whispers onto someone who does not wish to listen, no more than they can force us to mark their soul.”

  “So that vow just lets you talk to me without having to create this projection every time?” Uriel clarified and gestured to the god’s form.

  “For a normal person, yes,” he replied, but gave Uriel a sidelong glance. “But you’re not exactly normal, are you?”

  “Does it do something more because I also have a Soul Mark?”

  Destroyer nodded. “It’s not exactly a secret. If you ask any other Saint or Chosen who has dedicated themselves, they could tell you the greatest difference they notice.”

  “Does that mean you’re not going to tell me? Too much Aetherius?”

  The god smirked. “I already told you that isn’t a problem for me, especially when it comes to you—”

  “Why haven’t you showed up earlier then? Why now?” Uriel interrupted, trying to make sense of what the Destroyer was actually up to. It didn’t make sense that he suddenly started to care about him now after all these years.

  Destroyer frowned slightly but unexpectedly answered, “You weren’t ready. You hated everything about who you were, the power I had given you, the power you had cultivated yourself. You shunned all of it. Now you seem ready to face reality and actually grow.”

  “It’s really odd to hear you of all gods talking about something growing. I know you love the Cultivator, but you’re still the Destroyer.”

  The god gave him a sad smile. “True, and in the end I am what I am and will destroy the things I admire, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the time until that point… just like you should.”

  Uriel frowned, contemplating that, before redirecting back to his earlier question. “So what happens when a Chosen is dedicated to their deity?”

  “While the clergy who have already chosen their deity can sense the Chosen mortal, a Chosen who chooses the same deity can sense all those clergy in turn,” Destroyer said, watching him closely as he clarified. “Dedicate yourself to me, and you’ll be able to sense my clergy when they are near.”