As soon as He awoke from the dream, Solatin noticed He hadn't gone back to the place He returned to the last time. He could not find the foggy area anywhere around Him, despite how much He looked for it.
"I knew not mine own heart held such tenderness. How intriguing." Solatin smirked at the infinite black world before Him.
(I didn't think I had such a soft place in my heart. How interesting)
Solatin's white divine cloak with its golden pattern didn't waver, as the wind was totally absent from this place. Only His own walking made the drape move over His shoulder.
He walked straight ahead with confidence. He didn't know what He would find in such a space, but He was certain that something else had to exist beside His own self.
After what felt like hours, the Sun God finally saw a faint light, which made Him walk towards it without thinking.
Something about the faint light intrigued Him. It pulled Him towards it, and an irresistible desire to pursue the glow overcame him.
In the distance, Solatin could very clearly make out the outline of a person.
That person could not be taller than a child, and judging from the rest of His outline, they was probably one too.
The child's features were indistinguishable; its body was entirely composed of pure white light, rendering its reliefs completely invisible.
He could only see that the child was almost entirely still, not moving from its spot, unlike most people his age, who could not bear to stay in one place.
Of course, this was only an observation of the Sun God, and He had no idea if the thing before Him was, in fact, a simple kid.
After finally reaching the spot where the child had stood, Solatin approached Him and stood next to Him, in the same state of immobility.
Slowly, He turned His gaze towards the little kid next to Him, who barely managed to reach His upper body.
Slowly, the child turned His head towards the Sun God, both of them observing each other. Solatin's eyes were calm and without animosity, while the eyes of the little boy next to Him were impossible to see clearly.
The pitch dark around them only made the two of them stand out more amongst this sea of black, or this veil of darkness.
"Art thou well, child?" Solatin's gaze did not waver as He tried to communicate the most basic of messages to the being of pure light.
(Are you okay, child?)
The child did not move when it heard the words of the Sun God; it seemed they could not understand each other at all.
Seeing that His attempt was utterly useless, Solatin turned on His heels and took a step toward leaving where they were.
As soon as His foot touched the ground, Solatin turned around, one of His senses warned Him subitly.
The child was looking at Him as his mouth opened to speak.
"."
Nothing came from his mouth, though it continued to move in ways that would typically make coherent sounds and words.
But the Sun God could not hear any of it.
Gasp.
Solatin woke up surrounded by a thick fog that filled the entire room, except for the two people and the throne placed inside it.
The Monarch rubbed His glabella as He observed the surroundings.
So I am back.
This was an interesting callback to say the least.
This was a story from quite a long time ago, about 250 million years ago.
It was indeed refreshing to see such a me, I haven't seen myself act this way in a long time.
Solatin sighed as He relaxed His body on the golden throne, gazing upon the body of the androgynous angel.
The memories of the world He had seen in His dream flashed in His mind rapidly.
Meastra...
"..."
The wintry ambiance started to fill the Svobotsa Print Shop. The holidays were approaching, and children got excited about the festivities. In the print shop, there was a specific person who couldn't control themselves at this time of the year.
A young boy with blonde hair was practically begging on his knees while grabbing the legs of Kiril. His rugged green coat spread out on the ground as he hugged the man's leg, pleading.
"Please! You told me you would come!" Rodion was almost sobbing, leaving tear marks on the dark-haired man's pants.
Kiriltried kicking him away, but the boy was more tenacious than he thought. He now had total control over his legs.
"Ya! Anastasia, do something!" He turned his head towards the noble lady, casually sipping her black coffee with a book in her hand.
"Can't do it." She didn't even look up from her book to answer her most devoted hater. She continued flipping through the pages of her lecture.
The man was struck in awe at the sight he was observing.
"You didn't even look up! What is this bullshit at seven in the morning?"
"I just don't think you're worth wasting my energy on right now. This novel is way more interesting than your stupid dispute over going to a tree or not." She silently marked her page and violently slammed the book on the table, splitting apart both Rodion and Kiril out of fear for the scary woman in front of them.
Out of the door, a man with a thick beard and no hair in sight arrived in the open room with a coffee in hand.
Ever since coffee had been brought from the West into the Empire, it had become a very popular drink amongst nobles and intellectuals. One of them liked it because of its stimulating properties, the other because it made them look like intellectuals.
"What's the matter this time?" He leaned his tall, large build against the doorframe of the office he had exited, and asked with a deep but amiable voice.
Anastasia sighed heavily and looked at the man who was slightly taller than her. "It's about Saint-Prostev."
"Oh! Young Rodion wants to go see the tree, doesn't he?"
Kiril made a "tsk" sound and looked back at the man as he distanced himself from Rodion.
"Yeah, he won't stop bothering me to come with him."
The man took his last sip of coffee and placed the cup on a table in the room. "Then why don't all three of you go instead. I'll finish your work in your stead."
Kiril hugged the man with all his heart. "Grigory, I always knew you were a good man."
Anastasia did not seem pleased with Grigory's idea. She immediately started complaining.
"Kiril, sure, he deserves it, but why me?" She jumped from her chair and gesticulated with her hands rapidly in front of the bald man.
Gregory put his hand on her shoulder and smiled at her.
"Because you're a kid, now go." He threw away all three young workers, along with their coats, to stop them from freezing to death, as many do at this time of year.
Anastasia put on her white coat from Alfehiland over her red cloak and began to walk along the shoveled path amid the snow.
"You're really going?" Kiril asked, wiping the snow off his face.
"What else do you want me to do? Kill Grigory?"
"Good point." He stood up and walked with Rodion towards the path.