Garden Of The Abyss

Chapter 517 Questionable Scenario

"Before I say anything, I have to ask you something myself," he said.

"What is it?"

"Did you see me get out of bed? I was fast asleep in here before," he asked her.

Emilia paused for a moment and nodded, "You kind of just got up and left the room through the window without a word. It was completely unlike you–being quiet, and all. I just assumed you had to use the bathroom, or something."

Given that answer, he looked down for a bit, rubbing his chin in thought as it was a troubling revelation.

I don't understand this at all. What's going on? It wasn't a dream then, or was it? I was out of it, but all the movements I made still happened? What the hell is going on here…? He asked himself.

"Emilia, I think the enemy is here already," he told her.

"What?...How do you figure?" The amber-haired asked, crossing her arms over her dark cloak.

"It's happened twice now–these "dreams"...at first, I thought maybe I was really just drunk, or rather–that's what I wanted to believe," he told her, "but after what just happened, I think it might be magic, likely belonging to an Argonaut."

"Dreams? Are you sure you're not just sleepwalking?" Emilia asked with a raised eyebrow, peering at him with her cute, but mature face.

He shook his head, "I know magic when I feel it. It's something powerful, that's for sure. It's made me question if it was a dream, magic, or just my own delusions. It feels real, yet fake. It came to me either as a beautiful paradise, or Hell itself."

Emilia was quiet for a moment, bringing her silken, black glove to her chin in thought.

She might be mouthy most of the time, but Emilia isn't one to take things like this lightly. Even if it sounds insane…I trust that she'll believe me, he thought, after all…money is at stake for her, and to her–money is the world.

"...I see," Emilia finally said.

"You see?"

"If what you say is true, then it really may be "dream magic" that you're experiencing," she said, crossing one of her black-boot wearing legs across the other.

"Have you heard of it? "Dream magic" really doesn't ring a bell for me," he asked, ruffling his jet-black locks.

She breathed out quietly before nodding, "Heard of it, sure. I've never seen a single mage utilize it, though. In all honesty, I always thought it was more of a hypothetical existence–a magic that doesn't exist, but technically could. That being said…I don't have much knowledge on it myself."

"Didn't teach you about it at the organization?"

Emilia's cheeks became slightly red at the mention of her past again, brushing his question off, "It's a non-factor. We were only taught how to deal with the magic that people actually use," Emilia continued, looking at him with her cat-like pupils, "Are you really, truly sure it's not just territorial magic?"

He shook his head, "I'm not–that's the problem," he paused, staring at the wall for a moment, "now that I think about it…there is something odd about it."

"What is it?" She asked him.

Sirius stood up, walking towards the door as he inspected its light-brown form as his steps caused the floorboards to creak.

"I only have two instances to go off of, but…each time I left that "dream world", it was because I stepped through a doorway. The first time, it happened when I walked through this door, then the second, it was when I kicked open that guy's door," he explained, looking back at the assassin-adventurer.

"You believe doorways, or perhaps thresholds may serve as the catalyst for this magic?" Emilia asked, standing up as well as she knelt by the door, inspecting it.

"That's my best guess, anyway," he shrugged with a sigh, furrowing his messy locks, "well…that's just how I leave the "dream world", though. I entered it by falling asleep, I'm pretty sure."

"I'd imagine that's the foundation for dream magic in the first place," Emilia told him, fiddling with the doorway before standing back to her feet.

"Can't really argue with that," he told her, grabbing a piece of bread from the basket before taking a bite from it, "the question is–who is attacking, how, and why?"

"...That's a few questions," Emilia brushed her hair back.

As he laid out the questions, it seemed to prompt his own memory to give its own answer as he remembered the peculiar man he met in the tavern just before passing out.

"Did you figure something out? You've got that uncharacteristically serious expression going on," Emilia asked.

He put his hand to his chin, "I recall a strange-looking guy asking if I needed help…I think I brushed it off as just my beer-filled mind at the time, but he definitely didn't blend in with the rest of the crowd."

"What did he look like?" She asked, pressing him for an answer.

He kept his ground, rubbing his chin as he found the vague, hazy image in his mind, "...I remember he had a snow-white face, like he was wearing clown makeup or something…but it seemed to be his natural complexion, I think. His hair was blue and green, and his lips were blue as well. I don't remember exactly, but he also had symbols painted on his face."

"...That does seem peculiar," Emilia affirmed.

They both stayed silent for a moment, processing this information in their own ways as they sat on their designated, separate beds.

"Do you think this mystery man is an Argonaut?" She finally asked.

"We don't even know if he's the one responsible for these dreams," he replied, "but…it's the most probable explanation. Still, I was passed out in that tavern though…wouldn't he have used the opportunity right there to finish me?"

"That's a good question," Emilia looked at him.

She's giving me that look, he thought.

The look she gave him was of quiet doubt, as if this new information deteriorated the likelihood of the dreams being an outside force.

"How about we do a test?" He told her with a nervous smile.

"A test?"

He nodded, "I'll go to sleep, and you can confirm for yourself if it happens again."