Page 70 of Eldritch
“What do you want? Why am I here?”
Hands behind his back, he paced in front of Zevander. “The power you possess slumbers inside of you. It must be awakened, and you must learn to wield it.”
“Even if I possessed this power you speak of, I cannot wield it.” Zevander lifted his arm to show the black band burned into his skin.
The stranger lifted his arms, too, where an identical band had been etched into his wrist.
Confused, Zevander examined the dark marking. “Are you a prisoner, also?”
“Of sorts.”
Warmth settled over Zevander’s wrists, and when he looked down again, the band had faded, as if it were never there to begin. “What have you done?”
“Restraints do not exist inside your mind. They are a construct of reality. Here, you are free.” Alastor snatched the flame from the candle, holding it in his palm, then slammed it down. A circle of flames surrounded them.
“Nothing more than a dream,” Zevander said, unimpressed.
“Perhaps. But necessary, nonetheless.”
“How so?” Jaw tight, Zevander turned his head slightly away. “It changes nothing when I wake.”
Alastor threw up his hands. “So, your solution for your predicament is to withstand your suffering. To let it seep into your bones and rot you from the inside out.”
“There is nothing to be done.”
“Then, it is futile.” The older man rested his hands at his hips. “I’ve brought you to this place in vain.”
“I suppose you have.”
The surrounding darkness became a cobblestone street, and Zevander frowned, glancing around at the strange surroundings. A fountain in the center of a village, flanked by small shops and townhomes. “Where am I?”
“The mortal lands.”
Mortal lands? A dream, he reminded himself. But when had he ever felt so much awareness in dreams?
“Look the lorn in the eye, and everyone you know will die!”
The sound of children’s taunts reached his ear, and Zevander turned to find a small group of children gathered in a circle around a girl who couldn’t have been any more than twelve years old.
“Leave me alone!”Her voice carried a mix of fire and sadness.
A young redhead with long braids sneered.“My father says you should be burned, like all witches.”
“I’m not a witch,”the dark-haired girl argued back.
“You were found by the woods. And the woods are possessed by evil.”
“I am not evil!”
“What is this?” Zevander asked aloud, yet the children didn’t seem to hear him speak, as they kept on with their taunts.
Alastor casually walked toward them, close enough that they should’ve heard him when he said, “A hypothetical. To pass the time.”
“Do they not know we’re here?”
The older man waved toward the children. “Theydo not exist. We are merely observers of an image in your mind.”
“How could I dream of what doesn’t exist?”
