Aster sat up and leaned back against the oak tree as he sat next to Calixtus and tried not to focus on the still present pain in his head.
“You’ve been sleeping for a long time.”
That wasn’t something Aster expected to hear from Calixtus. At least, not from dream Calixtus. He looked over at the man sitting next to him, looking out calmly at the sunlit field. There was nothing particularly odd about him, as far as Aster could see. Nothing but an odd self-awareness Aster had yet to see on any other subject of his dreams.
“How do you know that?” he asked, wondering what sort of answer he might get and also genuinely curious as to whether Calixtus actually knew how long Aster had been there. Especially as Aster himself had no idea as to how much time had passed.
“You keep coming back,” Calixtus said, then turned to look at Aster. “Over and over, you’ve come back. Like you’re looking for something.”
“Maybe I am,” Aster said, oddly comforted by just being able to talk to Calixtus. “If I told you what I was looking for, could you help me find it?” He didn’t think so, but figured it was worth a shot.
“I’m afraid I only know about as much as you do.”
“A real shame,” Aster said, moving to stand. He figured it was about time for the dream to end and begin once again. Perhaps things would be different next time. Perhaps he’d find some answers at last. He tried to ignore the vague fear that this time, the killer in the shadows would be waiting for him.
Before he could stand, Calixtus’ hand shot out and grabbed onto Aster’s arm. Startled by it, Aster stopped and looked at Calixtus. He could feel the cool metal of the wedding ring on Calixtus’ finger, contrasting with the warmth of his hand.
“Stay a while longer. Rest. You’ve pushed yourself too hard.”
Aster couldn’t deny that. He’d never before had to manipulate his dreams so much, and the effort wore him down. Even with the help of the potion he’d crafted, there was only so much Aster could do, and the consequences of pushing past his limits wasn’t something he wanted to experience.
With that in mind, he settled down again, leaning back against the oak tree. Calixtus released his hold on Aster, looking more relaxed now that he knew Aster wouldn’t leave right away.
“You’re aware this is a dream,” Aster said after a minute.
“No,” Calixtus said with a shake of his head. “You’re aware this is a dream.”
“Well, yes,” Aster didn’t bother to hide his confusion. Calixtus chuckled. It was a pleasant sound.
“What do you think I am?” Calixtus asked, and Aster was thrown by the question.
“A dream,” he said, uncertain of his own answer. “A vision. Some sort of omen or clue as to what’s to come.”
Calixtus laughed, a bright sound Aster didn’t often hear. When he stopped, there was still amusement dancing in his blue eyes. All of a sudden, Aster wished the Calixtus he knew could feel such joy as well.
“I am a dream,” Calixtus said after a moment. “But one made from your own mind out of the pieces of who I’m meant to represent. And yes, at one point I was a piece of a puzzle laid out for you to put together.”
“And what are you now? Just who I think Calixtus is?”
“Dreams are what you make of them.” Calixtus shrugged. “They are concepts and feelings represented through abstract symbols.”
“Not my dreams,” Aster pointed out, because he’d rarely dreamt the nonsensical visions most people did. His were pure knowledge. They were glimpses of what was to come and of the things that both could and couldn’t be changed.
“Why shouldn’t they be?” Calixtus asked. “Why should they be nothing more than a future to haunt your thoughts?”
“Because that’s not what I get to have.” It was something Aster had resented for some time. Of course, he’d long ago made his peace with the cards he’d been dealt.
“Perhaps you will,” Calixtus said easily.
“So why are you here then? You’ve served your purpose, I’ve found you in the waking world. So why do you remain?” Aster figured he might as well ask, given Calixtus was in such a talkative mood.
“Perhaps you’ve given me a new purpose.”
Aster stared at him with a look of confusion. He was starting to dislike just how easily this Calixtus could throw him off.
“Why would I do that?” Again, Calixtus just shrugged.
“What do I mean to you now?” he asked, and Aster felt like Calixtus already knew the answer. He looked out at the field again, his smile dropping a bit. “I suppose our time’s run out.”
Aster could feel it, the faint sense that the world was about to fall away. He felt oddly regretful that his time with Calixtus was about to end.
“Will you still be here when I return?” Aster found himself asking.
“So long as you want me to be,” Calixtus said with a little grin. “Be careful,” he added, just before Aster felt himself falling down the now familiar void.
Aster found himself back in the Magic Tower. He saw the stone walls painted with moonlight and looked up at the twinkling stars visible through the crystal dome that made up the ceiling. He was quickly growing tired of the sight.
The door opened and, once again, Aster watched himself walk into the room. Instantly, he noticed something different.
The brooch he’d always worn in his dream was gone. Aster stepped closer, eyes fixated on the spot the sizable piece of jewelry usually occupied. There was nothing there. He cocked his head in thought and figured it made sense. At least, in the context of the dream serving as a vision.
Aster already knew what he needed to do, and he knew when it needed to be done. The clues he’d had to piece together no longer needed to be as they once were. Now, Aster was looking at things as they would be when the time came. With that in mind, Aster let his dream self move further into the room, waiting for the moment in which he would look up in surprise before being cut down.
This time, however, there was none of the usual shock on the dream Aster’s face. He opened his mouth and spoke words that couldn’t be heard. The familiar shadowy figure stepped forward, but still there was no surprise to be seen on Aster’s dream self.
I’ll find out, Aster thought, and couldn’t help but feel relieved that he would at least know who his killer was before the time came for him to walk to his death.
“...my dreams…”
Aster’s head whipped back to look at his dream self. He stared in surprise, wondering if he’d merely imagined the words.
“...it was…stone…”
Aster frowned, struggling to hear what was being said and getting only broken bits for him to piece together. He supposed it was better than nothing. Then, he saw himself smile. It was an odd thing, to see himself smile like that—full of glee and relief and regret all at the same time. Aster wondered just what it was that put that look on his face.
The ground shook and a loud rumbling sound hit his ears. The shadow stepped forward and Aster got a strange sense of anger from it. There was a gleam of silver, turned a glistening red as it retreated back into the shadows along with its wielder. Aster watched himself fall back, clutching at the wound as it painted his white robes a bright vermillion tone. On his hand, he could see a ring glinting in the light of the moon and the stars.
The dream fell away and the last thing Aster saw was the faint smile on his still face.
There was no broken down city this time. No hushed whispering or panicked faces. There was only the sun and the soft grass beneath him and above him, the emerald and gold of the oak tree.
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
Aster wasn’t startled by the sound of Calixtus’ voice, even before he’d turned to look at him. He sat up, shoulder brushing against Calixtus’.
“I suppose I did,” he said once he’d settled down. Calixtus nodded.
“Then I guess it’s about time you left.” Oddly, Aster found he wouldn’t mind staying. “You’ve been asleep for far too long. Longer than you’d expected.”
“I didn’t know what to expect.” Aster had only a vague idea of the effects of the potion when he’d taken it.
“Even so, it’s time you woke up,” Calixtus said, looking at Aster with a soft smile.
“Maybe I should rest here a while longer,” Aster said, feeling tired all of a sudden. He thought it would be nice to lay beneath the oak and sleep for a while, with the wind and the sun and Calixtus at his side. He didn’t think too much on why that was.
“Sleep then,” Calixtus said, even as Aster’s eyes began to close.
“Will you be here when I wake?”
“Of course.”
Aster drifted off, the world rushing by with only the lingering feeling of a warm hand in his. He let himself be carried off, flowing down the seas of his dreams and a future he’d try his best to change. When he opened his eyes, it was to a ceiling lit by moonlight and the still warm feeling of a hand holding his.
He laid there for a moment, uncertain about where he was and wondering where the crystal dome had gone. It took him a bit to realize he knew the ceiling he was looking at and the feeling on his hand was very much real.
Aster sat up, feeling weaker than he remembered, and found Calixtus leaning against the headboard of the bed, holding his hand even as he slept. He stared for what felt like ages but couldn’t have been more than a minute, until Calixtus began to stir. Aster watched as his eyes opened and stared up at him, still dazed from sleep before they widened in shock.
“Aster?” Calixtus said, voice filled with disbelief.
“Sorry to wake you,” Aster said with a crooked little grin.
Before he knew what was happening, Calixtus had shot up and pulled Aster closer. Aster wasn’t ashamed to admit he froze as he felt Calixtus’ arms wind around him. Eventually, he awkwardly patted his back, very aware this was the most physical contact he’d had in quite a while. It was nice, he supposed.
Calixtus pulled away, looking both abashed and relieved. He was also quite red faced, something that had Aster fighting not to laugh.
“I didn’t know if you were going to wake up,” Calixtus said, and Aster suddenly felt very guilty about a lot of things.
“Well, I’m not dead yet,” he said cheerily.
No, not yet, he thought. But soon.
Aster pushed the thought aside and focused on the moment. The future he needed to fix could wait just for a little while longer.
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