LATER THAT NIGHT, AS THE MOON CAST A SILVERY GLOW OVER THE SWAMP, Noir once again found solace in the comfort of his rough-shapen mattresses aboard the worn steamboat. His body, weary from the day's unforgiving trials, felt as if it were thanking him for resting. Despite the enclosure surrounding him, the persistent ambiance of the swamp seeped through the boat's frail walls, a familiar lullaby that soothed him to sleep.
Within the realm of slumber, where the boundary between reality and dreams blurred, Noir found himself among the shrouded darkness that was his subconscious. A gentle voice, distant yet beckoning, resonated through the dark void. At first, its soft cadence was a faint echo stretching through his mind—a mere murmur even in the silence. But with each passing moment, it drew closer, weaving through his subconscious and gently tugging at the threads of his awareness.
"Noir," the voice whispered in a melodic tone.
Noir's eyes slowly opened within the dream, revealing a glimmer of recognition.
"Noir? Ah, there you are, my beautiful boy," the warm voice caressed his senses, imbuing itself with familiarity and affection.
Noir's curiosity awakened, prompting him to engage with the ethereal presence that seemed to be addressing him directly.
"N-Noir," he sounded out the name. "Am I, Noir?" he asked slowly, being careful in his pronunciation. "Do you know who I am?" he wondered aloud, as if he were too tired to wrap his head around what was going on.
Although the enigmatic woman's eyes were shrouded in mist, her body bore scars that could turn even the most iron of stomachs. As she floated closer to Noir, her ethereal essence cast a soft glow against the darkness. How could something so difficult to look at be so paradoxically beautiful?
"I do," she answered, her voice filled with wisdom. "I've pleaded with the council for quite some time for this moment as well as another. For now, I've come to warn you."
"Warn me? About what?"
"It's time to wake up," she murmured, floating closer still, her presence close enough to warm Noir with its glow. Each word she spoke held a promise of guidance, quickening his heart.
"Listen closely, Noir. Tonight, you must leave this place and never return," she advised. "The clock is ticking. You may think you're indestructible, but we are all made beautiful in due time. And if that time were to be upon you in the coming days, it would be far too soon."
She smiled, extending her gentle yet battered hand toward his face. Noir's visage maintained its blank expression as her hand inched closer. His heart pounded in his chest, only to be settled once her delicate touch fell short of his cheek. Her smile faded before she spoke her final words to him. Time was against them both.
"The past as you know it—this boat and this swamp—ends here, and the future begins now. There is no need to run or hide from it because it will come regardless. You can either welcome it as a conqueror, and face it head-on, or live in fear. It will still come for you, as it has come for us all."
"Leave? Where else is there?"
Before his sentence could settle in the air, she cut in, her interruption swift and final.
"My time is up for now." The woman's voice trailed off into an echo that faded into nothingness.
Wait, he thought to say, but hesitated.
If anything, living in the swamp alone for a decade stomped out every bit of emotion he had, leaving him an extrospective canvas unable to paint its woes. All he knew was killing, eating, and surviving. So what was it that made his heart quicken?
The dream dissipated like vanishing fog despite his confusion, and reality forcefully intruded upon the scene. Noir found himself awakening upright in his bed, the moonlight casting a pale glow upon him like a spotlight.
A few thoughts danced around his mind, still unsure what to make of the dream. Thoughts like who the lady was, what she warned him about, and most importantly, the name, Noir. Did the name truly belong to him? He'd long since given up on the idea that he existed to anyone before the boat. If he did, then surely he would've been found by now.
But just like dreams tend to do, the questions, along with the woman's appearance, vanished as a flicker of light caught his attention through the window. In the distance, beams of light pierced through dense foliage. With his curiosity piqued, he fled his room to get a better look from the top of the boat.