Something is coming

In the first few days, he reacted to his dreams in the same way—fearful, but aware that it was just a dream. Despite convincing himself that it was nothing more than an innocent figment of his imagination, he began to feel the presence again and again in his room, the same presence he sensed when he first experienced the dream. As the days and months passed, that dream returned nightly, disturbing Scarde’s peace. He constantly wondered what the creature might be, why it had begun appearing in his dreams at that particular time, and why he felt a presence in his room. Yet, he dared not dwell on the creature too much. He longed for this constant torment to end, but...

Perhaps three months had passed, and the poor prince had reached a point where he feared falling asleep, terrified that the dream might one day pull him in, never allowing him to open his eyes again; or that the strange eyes he felt increasingly often would somehow catch him. This ordeal deeply affected him, but he didn’t dare reveal to his parents the reason for the dark circles and heavy bags under his almond-shaped eyes, fearing he would only worry the royal couple more. He drifted into sleep with trepidation and awoke each night gasping for breath, his slender fingers clutching his soft black hair, drenched in sweat.

But it wasn’t just the nightmares that troubled the prince’s already trembling heart. A celebration was approaching in the kingdom—the day of the memorial festival honoring Ganeon’s esteemed memory. It was a day when the entire kingdom created and displayed flower wreaths on their homes, danced and sang, held markets selling various goods and food, and lived freely, without fear. On this day, the townsfolk could finally remove their mineral amulets, free from fear of any impending threat. It was a day of joyous celebration, offering a perfect opportunity for something positive to break through the cloud of ominous dreams.

A few days remained until the festival. The scent of fresh flowers wafted through the town, colorful decorations hung everywhere, and windows adorned with stained glass displayed flowers tied with delicate ribbons. Fountains danced happily with the children weaving wreaths and humming in their sweet, youthful voices. The women baked pastries so that even the young soldiers could enjoy a bit of freedom. The royal family, too, was preparing. The glass palace was awash in color, vibrant hues covering every corner. The seamstresses designed splendid outfits for the family, while the chefs prepared grand cakes and pastries.

Music and joyful chatter filled the kingdom, yet this was merely the prelude. On the festival day, the main event would arrive: everyone would wear flower wreaths and dress in bright colors; young men would court their beloved or their chosen one with peacock dances and honeyed words. The birds would sing even more joyously, their songs angelic, while the bells of the temples rang rhythmically, their ancient rusty tones marking the passage of another year.

In every heart, be it human or otherwise, joy resided—except in one. The young prince's heart was still shackled by fear and doubt. He overthought everything, and his once cheerful, positive mind was slowly consumed by his anxieties. He feared that the creature from his dreams would come for him, devouring him and the city’s happiness in one fell swoop.

And so, the festival day arrived. Everyone roamed the streets of the kingdom, but Scarde remained in his room, deep in thought. As a child, he had always longed to see this celebration with his own eyes and would have given anything to make a wreath himself. Yet now that he could finally witness it, he sat in his vast, echoing room, listening to the cheerful sounds and music drifting in through the window. His ears were attuned to the noises outside, but his mind was elsewhere. Once again, the forest came to mind. With the forest came the strange creature, and with it, fear.

"Fear is a dangerous thing. If one isn’t careful, it can easily consume and trap you forever, no matter how hard you resist." He repeated his father’s wise words with difficulty, words he had never truly understood until now. But now, the time had come, and he felt enlightened as he recited these lines over and over. Although he realized that the very thing that shouldn’t have happened had already occurred, it wasn’t too late to change course. Scarde stood up and gathered his strength. He couldn’t allow the evil energies to invade his mind and control him like a puppet. At last, he resolved to resist everything that had poisoned his life over the past few months.

The prince rose from his bed, which was now crumpled from his worry, dressed in bright green and brown clothes, and tousled his soft black hair, letting the longer strands stick out haphazardly. He tucked his pocket watch and a small knife into his pocket and, with tentative but determined steps, left his room. Finally, he set off toward his long-held desire, heading to the heart of Ganeon’s bustling celebration.

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