Chapter 2: Nightmare Begins!
Dolin gasped, inhaling sharply.
Air rushed into his lungs as if he had been drowning before.
This air caught him by surprise. He was so familiar to the air of the outskirts, that this crisp and cool air was like a sweet delicacy prepared just for him.
Then he exhaled slowly, reluctant to let the fresh and cool air go.
"... I lived."
A smile appeared on his face. Relief washed over him like a warm embrace.
The last thing he could remember was the cold pipe crashing into him and the cold grip of the spell swallowing his consciousness.
He had expected pain, yet he was fine.
He knew that this new body was made for the spell, with his real body probably still in dire condition in the real world, yet he would deal with that later.
For now, he could rest easy knowing that he had no broken bones, bullet wounds, or even a bruise.
Dolin sat up carefully, testing his limbs. They were different from usual, making his balance a little awkward, but he quickly adjusted.
His eyes slowly went to the room surrounding him. It seemed that the nightmare had graced him with comfortable living conditions. A sturdy wooden bed, a desk near the window, shelves lined with scrolls, and a small wardrobe in the corner. The wooden materials surprised him.
The air was faintly filled with the smell of old parchment and oil lamps.
It wasn't modern, yet compared to the outskirts, it was practically luxury.
Dolin was excited due to this comforting start to his nightmare, but he was not fooled.
He knew that nothing gave comfort without a purpose.
"Alright."
"Let's figure out what kind of mess I am in."
He closed his eyes. He was in a new body. Maybe if he concentrated, he would get some of the guy's memories?
In the darkness of his mind, he focused.
Nothing.
No memories.
No knowledge.
Only himself.
He was a completely blank slate.
"Great…".
If he had no knowledge on who he was, he could easily lose his footing in this new world.
He thought. Of course, he could feign memory loss, but that would not help him much in finding his place in this nightmare.
He gave up on that idea and began a search. If he could find information pertaining to his new role in the nightmare, perhaps he would be able to hide his ignorance and lack of previous memories.
The desk seemed like the best place to start with.
Several maps were spread across its wide surface. They showed terrain, troop movements, battle stations, and more.
Dolin studied the several markers placed among the maps.
Interesting… seems to be military.
He then glanced at the clothes he was wearing.
His body sported clean robes, not elegant like a noble's, but more inclined to what a military officer would wear.
"An advisor perhaps?"
That would of course explain the maps. Still, he wanted confirmation, as guessing was dangerous.
He began opening drawers, finding sealing wax and writing tools. Some held rolled up reports, but the 4th drawer he opened held a single book.
It was a leather bound journal.
"Just my luck."
He smiled with a grin as he picked it up and opened it.
"Let's see…"
What he found inside surprised him, actually it surprised him twice.
He had thought of it, but the words inside were in a foreign text, becoming the first surprise.
What really surprised him though was the fact that he could not really translate the text, yet he somehow understood the meanings. This supernatural phenomena jolted his memory.
This predicament finally reminded him of the most important thing in one's nightmare. To check his runes of course. He slapped his forehead. He had forgotten due to only hearing it from a conversation of awakened visiting the slums a long time ago.
He calmed his mind, and thought of words like "information", "status", and "runes".
***
Name: Dolin.
True Name: —
Rank: Aspirant.
Soul Core: Dormant.
Memories: —
Echoes: —
Attributes: [Fated], [Mark of Divinity].
Aspect: [Royal Strategist].
Aspect Description: [A strategist is one who uses his cunning to overcome his difficulties. A royal strategist has the benefit of grasping the meanings of situations and documents better.]
He let out a laugh.
Well that cemented his role in the nightmare. It had practically spelled it out for him.
Hmmm. Fated… I have no idea what that means. Mark of divinity? Grasping the meanings of certain documents is even more interesting…
Perhaps it had something to do with his understanding of the text in the journal.
He then went to analyze the text. The handwriting inside was neat and organized.
It had been clearly written by someone of great discipline.
He quickly skimmed through the book.
"That confirms it. Definitely a strategist."
Several entries mentioned war councils, troop movements, and discussions with the king.
The writer of the journal was clearly an important person if he was having direct discussions with the king.
One entry caught his attention.
I met with the other strategists today. Lord Vedior has been acting suspicious lately. He is insisting we avoid direct engagement with the creatures at all costs. I understand caution, but his arguments seem counterproductive, as if he wants us to fall.
"Hmmm. Other strategist. I will have to take a look at that Vedior."
He could read the rest later, but for now he wanted to get to the latest few entries. He began to flip through the pages faster until he began to see blank pages. He backtracked a few, as he had overshot, and went to the last entry.
His majesty seems troubled lately. During today's council, he had a sickly expression and questioned whether our focus could truly win. This is not the valiant king I once remembered.
Dolin leaned against the desk.
Now that was interesting. Perhaps the goal of this nightmare had something to do with this king.
Kings who were full of doubt rarely kept their crowns for long.
He then went back a couple pages. More strategic notes. He found mentions of names and memorized them.
Vedior. Renwick. Chief of the Royal Guard.
Right now, getting familiar with his surroundings spelled out his survival.
He continued, familiarizing himself with upcoming meetings, names, and current situations.
He always had a nigh-perfect memory, even remembering that conversation about runes earlier, so this was nothing to him.
For now, he believed he had enough to fake his ignorance.
Just as he closed the journal a knock echoed from the door.
Dolin straightened his posture and opened the door.
"What is it?"
A young servant stepped inside and bowed in a respectful way.
"My Lord, the war council will begin shortly. His majesty requires your presence.
Dolin kept his expression calm, however, his mind was already racing with scenarios.
Perfect. If he could find more information in the council without revealing himself, he might have more of a chance in solving this nightmare.
"Understood. I will depart immediately."
A crooked grin slowly appeared on his face.
This nightmare is getting interesting.
A war council. A troubled king.
With that he headed for the door.
"Very well. Lead the way."