A Bored Lich

Chapter 455 Recurring Dream Or Nightmare?

Illuminated by moonlight filtering through the broken stained glass window, two beings swept across the floor, leaving behind drops of sweat and pieces of broken bone. The dead, dusty air rose with the dancing of feet to the beat of the fight and the drumming of Wilhelm's heart. The skeleton executed sharp sequences of punches, kicks, and faints that only accelerated with each missed strike. Wilhelm stepped back at first, found a rhythm, and began to weave through the blows.

Wilhelm ducked. A fist flew past his blue hair. He pushed off his backfoot, shifting his center of gravity below his opponent's, who tried to pull away too late. The skeleton only got a single step back before Wilhelm caught its extended arm and yanked it up and over him.

Two blue flames flared within the skeleton's empty eye sockets like brilliant sapphires. Its arm twisted unnaturally out of Wilhelm's grasp before it would have been slammed into the ground. Between waiting to arc past Wilhelm's head, resetting their positions, or lashing out wildly in the air, it chose neither.

It reached out and the tips of its skeletal fingers found purchase on the collar of Wilhelm's shirt, where it tried to yank him along with it. Wilhelm's stance didn't budge an inch, but he realized that the skeleton hadn't planned on pulling him - it planned to swing into him. It raised a bent knee up, putting both its full weight and momentum behind.

Wilhelm watched the bony knee rush towards him and smiled as he easily caught it. The skeleton may have been smart but it was at too much of a disadvantage in the air with nothing to push off of. The playful way it fought, it was almost familiar.

Wilhelm's body countered on its own. The skeleton was reminded of the ground's importance as Wilhelm allied with gravity to send it crashing to the ground.

Bone cracked against stone. The flames in the skeleton's eye sockets dwindled, and a deathly quiet crept back into the ruin.

Looking down at the sorry mess of the skeleton, Wilhelm's smile faded and his heartbeat slowed. 'Maybe I used too much force,' he thought. It was just a nameless skeleton, but he wasn't trying to destroy it after having so much fun fighting it. 'Why?' He winced as the familiar migraine acted up, the one that always happened around this part of the dream. 'That's right, it's the stupid dream again.'

He snapped to attention and quickly scanned the ruin, but it was as if a dark veil hung over everything. The colored light, the shelves, the old stone; he repeated their names over and over again under his breath despite the throbbing pain in his head. Air struggled to make its way down his throat, and then he realized that something was holding him to the ground: the skeleton. It hadn't died yet. Its legs constricted around his neck in a choke hold while he'd been distracted, and it had trapped an arm within both of its as well. Its blue flames seemed to intently stare into Wilhelm's golden eyes as it clung to him, as if it were trying to say something.

Wilhelm's resolve to fight this imaginary foe burst forth and drowned out any conscious thought. He lifted the skeleton up and threw it down, but its grip held tight. The knock of bone against stone echoed throughout the ruin, which quickly grew dimmer. He thrashed the skeleton onto the stone again with another knock. Blue eyes burned into his. The jaw opened and closed but no voice came out, only the sounds rattling bones and the chattering of teeth.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Wilhelm!"

Wilhelm bolted upright and gulped down as much air as his lungs could manage.

"Wilhelm!" the voice repeated.

Wilhelm turned towards the humanoid shadow splayed across the front of his tent by the morning rays, and watched its hand knock against something hard to produce the knocking sound. "I am awake!" he said.

"Wilhelm?" Sindre's soft voice rang out. "Are you having another nightmare?"

"It's fine." Wilhelm said. He instinctively reached over to his yarn necklace to the side of his sleeping bag and carefully slid the half-broken acorn beneath his shirt. He took a deep whiff of its scent around his neck and his breathing slowed. "Come in."

The tent flap pulled back and in walked a girl with curly hair as golden as the rising sun behind her back, and a smile just as bright. She stood a few inches taller than the average girl her age which meant that, with muscles to pair with her hide armor, and a helmet over her hair, she could barely pass as a skinny boy like how she appeared presently. Without the get-up she was just short of the line of tomboyishness. She gave Wilhelm a quick hug, set her helmet to the side, and sat down next to him. "Was it that same dream again?" she asked as she handed him a tissue.

Wilhelm nodded and stuffed the tissue up his bloody nose. "Thanks. I ran out of these yesterday."

Sindre frowned. "You ran out? How many dreams have you had lately?"

"Not dreams, dream," Wilhelm explained. "It's just the same damned thing every time. I still don't get what it's supposed to mean."

Sindre sighed: "I think it's time to tell Merlin. They were never this frequent, even after they first started - after the…" Her voice trailed off as her eyes wandered down to the necklace under his shirt.

"Merlin's got enough on his plate exhausting his mana every day," Wilhelm tried not to sound like he was making an excuse for himself, not that he thought of it as an excuse. He foresaw the direction Sindre was going to steer the conversation and began donning on his armor, but it wasn't as if he could teleport away like Merlin.

Sindre eagerly continued. "What if you can remember other stuff in the dream - now that it's happening more frequently? What if it could offer you clues on what happened?"

"I don't remember anything but fighting," Wilhelm said as he snapped and tightened leather straps around his armor. "And lower your voice please. You might wake people up this early."

Sindre crossed her arms and huffed. "Someone's got to look out for you. You said you feel like you fight differently, right? What if it's possession?"

"I only feel different in the dream," Wilhelm softly reminded her as he attached the last piece of his gear, his sword bearing the symbol of the goddess. "Besides, the goddess will protect me from Doevm's tricks."

"But…" Sindre struggled to think of something else to say.

"Our hero could always ask Doevm about this supposed trick," a cold voice said, and a shadow rose behind their unprotected back.

A chill ran up Wilhelm's back, but he tried not to act too nervous. He silently prayed to the goddess that Dag hadn't overheard most of their conversation, but the suggestion wasn't too bad on second thought. After all, he had only asked Doevm if he had anything to do with what happened to his village, not what the dream meant. 'What could I lose?' he thought. 'I'm still going to kill him after all.'

"D-Dag," Sindre stammered. "How many times have I told you not to sneak up on us like that! We've known you for a week and you're already going to give me a heart attack!"

With short, black hair, a dark colored tunic and pants, and a forever murky expression to match, Dag would have matched the shadows perfectly if not for his pale complexion. He side eyed both Wilhelm and Sindre, but Wilhelm didn't take it personally since Dag gave everyone the same look. "Cardinal Ver Dilen sent me to get you," Dag explained. "He's taking us out in a small group to meet with representatives from the Polyglint Mines. I don't know why they bother bringing you though. Not like it matters."

Sindre smiled. "He's the hero of course! They should naturally follow what he says."

Dag shared a look with Wilhelm. "Something tells me he won't be the one speaking, but whatever. Let's get this over with."

The group got their bearings in order and quickly departed the tent. Ahead of them and the hundreds of War Monks camped along the edge of the path was the dark cloud hanging over the towering Polyglint Mines. Wilhelm touched the emblem of the goddess on his breastplate and set forth.