A short man crept toward the bed in the dark, his purple eyes fixed on the lump of bedding, under which laid his friend. He leaned over him, beaming widely. However, as his fingers brushed his shoulder, the sleeping man turned in his sleep, and the next thing the short man knew, there was a knife pressed against his throat, and ferociously narrowed red eyes turned to him in suspicion. The short man’s eyes were wide, and his arms had flown up in surrender.

“W-Woah, Decian! It’s me! Firaine! Your best friend who values his life?!”

With a groaning sigh, the knife was loosened and then brought away from Firaine’s throat. “Then what are you doing sneaking up on me?” Decian muttered, irate, though his features had relaxed. He pushed his long black hair away from his face with brusque, quick movements.

“What are you doing sleeping with a knife?” Firaine asked as his friend shoved the weapon back under his pillow.

“Defense. Now what do you want?” Decian’s voice sounded tired and much more cantankerous than usual. Firaine could see pitch dark circles under his eyes, but elected to ignore them, given his grouchy state.

“Oh, yeah! There’s a contest!” Firaine grinned excitedly and sat on the bed next to Decian.

“Is there now? Are you going to enter it?” Decian asked, voice dripping with sarcasm, for he already knew the answer.

“No, I thought you could.” Just as expected.

Decian fixed Firaine in a cold glare. “When is it? What’s in it for me?”

“It’s… at noon. Very last minute, but! The prize... is dinner with the king.” Firaine’s eyes were shining as if he could taste it already.

“Of course. Food. What time is it anyhow? Too early…” Decian groaned and rubbed at his eyes.

“It’s… Decian, it’s… it’s nearly noon. Are you… alright?” Firaine sent his friend a stunned, concerned look. “I didn’t think I would have to wake you up at this hour…”

Decian yawned, widely, shoving his face into his pillow instead of covering his mouth with a hand. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Since when?” Firaine frowned, sitting closer to his friend.

“Since I’ve been having nightmares…”

“Oh. Well that… Explains the murder attempt.” Decian rolled his eyes at that. “Do you want to talk about them?”

“It’s… Always the same. I was in the wider forest, travelling… I don’t know where, or with who, but… It was night time. We had set up our camp and gone to sleep when… When we were attacked.” Decian frowned as he continued, “By monsters I had never seen before. They were all black, even their teeth. Everything but their eyes, which glowed red… I was fighting back to back with someone, I could hear them… But then they started shouting my name. When I turned around, all I saw was their arms reaching for me, a giant beast’s arm clamped around their waist, and their hair flying in their face as they were ripped away from me…” Decian wrapped his arms around his chest, “Sometimes, it ends there. They’re gone. I wake up. Sometimes I try to save them. But no matter what I do, how hard I try, I can’t… I can’t save them, Firaine.” His voice shook. He was frowning deeply, staring at his hands.

“You don’t know who they were?” Firaine asked, his hand on Decian’s shoulder.

“No… All I know is that I… I cared for them. When I lost them, it was as if… As if I’d lost someone I’d loved. It felt so real, Firaine. So… So like before. I can still feel it, even now that I’m awake.” He put a hand over his chest. It felt… Empty. Completely hollow. Just as it did every morning he had the nightmare. As if someone that had once filled him up with warmth was ripped away, leaving him frigid and alone… But it was just a dream.

Firaine was quiet for a moment but laughed easily. “Well there you have it, Decian. It’s just a bad dream. The only thing you have ever loved? Training.” He handed his friend his weapons and grinned reassuringly. Decian returned his smile weakly and nodded, though his chest still ached.

The soldier nodded slowly, still looking at his hands. He forced a chuckle. “Yeah… I guess.”

“Come on, I know nothing will make you feel like winning that contest.” Firaine nudged him on. “Endric will be there.”

Decian smirked, “You just want me to invite you to the dinner with me.”

“It’s dinner with the king, Decian!” Firaine exclaimed.

“You’ve clearly never had his cooking…” Decian muttered under his breath, rubbing his tired eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing. Fine. Just let me get dressed.”

“Yes!” Firaine jumped up, throwing his fist in the air, “Awesome! See you there!”

It took him less than a second to dash out the door. It took Decian far longer to stand from bed, go to his dresser, and open the drawer. Out of habit, his eyes scanned over the candlesticks, the hair clip he had fashioned from a crow’s skull, the leather pouch he took everywhere with him… The two feathers tied to a silver chain, which he wore as an earring. His eyes lifted up to the portrait above his dresser. To those two faces that were so familiar, yet so faded in his memory. Yet the feeling that had hollowed him out when he had lost them was still in his chest, just an echo, from an awful nightmare.

When he reached the clearing, he saw King Brabil chatting with Firaine, as well as six of his fellow soldiers. Decian had to hold back a smirk. He knew he could beat them while half asleep. Which was good, too, because he practically was.

“Ah, Decian, good!” King Brabil of the nocten grinned when he saw Decian approach. He was short, even wearing platform boots, and small. However, though he was well known to be brash and ridiculous, he was incredibly smart. Decian respected him. Though the king seemed pleased to see Decian, his opponents groaned at the sight of him, which made him chuckle. “I’m glad Firaine was able to find you! I was beginning to worry!”

“Worry? Why?” Decian furrowed his brows.

“Wor-- Oh! Um!” Brabil stammered, avoiding looking Decian in the eyes, “Well, not… you know, worry, but more… It really-- I-It’s nothing. Um. A-Anyway, it’s-- It’s past noon! We had best begin!” He cleared his throat awkwardly and spun around.

The first test was one of accuracy. The contestants stood in a line and aimed at a target in the center. The king counted down from three, and at one, each grey-skinned soldier threw a knife. Most of them hit within the first three rings of the target. Decian and one other soldier’s knives landed right next to each other at center. Decian grinned at the only other opponent that remained as they took a few steps back and stopped. Or… His opponent stopped. But Decian kept going. He went into the trees until there was only the slightest space open where his knife could fly between the trees and still hit his target.

“Decian, must you--?!” Endric growled, but Decian’s arm was already raised. He lined up his shot with slow, steady breaths. He had to aim perfectly or it could easily hit one of the trees between him and the target. If I don’t make this, I’m going to look like such a jackass...  He shut his eyes when the throw was lined. I’m not going to miss this. 

Breathe in… As he let it out, he released the knife. Then he listened. 

It landed with a thunk. 

He opened his eyes, grinning triumphantly at the sight of his knife on the edge between the center and first circle. With a light laugh, he unhooked a knife from his belt and threw it quickly through the narrow space. It sliced through the air and landed nearly perfectly in the center.

“I’m awake now.” He muttered to himself as he walked back to the clearing. King Brabil watched him with the same beaming pride a father would. Decian bowed to his king, and then cracked a grin.

“Well done, Decian! I knew you wouldn’t let me down!” Brabil praised him, and came over to the contestants. Pride fluttered in Decian’s chest at the sight of their scowling faces. All doubts and drowsiness from before were long gone, all that was in his mind were thoughts of What’s next? His opponent, however, the only other elite soldier competing that day, was glaring.

“Well,” Decian asked him, “Can you beat that?”

The man huffed. “Couldn’t you have sat this one out?”

Decian smiled widely and shrugged. “Nah.”

Some nocten had gathered in the trees around the clearing to watch the soldiers compete. Their great protectors. From the moment a soldier took their oaths and was blessed by the elders, they were of a rank second only to the king. They were the ones who accompany nocten out of their lit cities, after all. That was their most important job. To escort those who can’t defend themselves and protect them from the fearsome monsters that lurked in the Deep Wood. The Deep Wood was their home, after all, but the trees grew so dense that they often touched, and light could never break through the dense canopy. It was Darkness’ realm, and the god had filled it with horrifying beasts. Everyone knew the soldiers that were posted in their area, and they treated them with utmost respect. Most nocten idolized them, and so a competition between soldiers was particularly exciting. The eager crowd watched on from the edge of the clearing, or the low-lying branches that surrounded it. They chattered and cheered as the contestants displayed their aptitude for magic. The soldiers were paired off, and one would use water or air to attempt to extinguish the other’s fire. Decian came third in the competition, never having quite grasped elemental magic. But then came the time for the tournament.