This time, the dream is different.

  I recognize that fact almost immediately—mostly because I find myself staring… at myself. The younger version of me cowers in the corner of his room, with Sadai crouching beside him, holding him.

  As for me: I am now a spectral. I retain my adult body, but I am simply bearing witness to the past rather than controlling it.

  It is the same scene as earlier. Birds flop against the rooftops and the rocks as the

  sound of slow moving death comes from above—the horn-like bellow of something giant moving through the sky.

  “Changed up your tactic now I see?” I yell. The young me and Sadai don’t notice, but I’m hoping the witch does. “Now that I know it's you, you can come out! I won’t bite.”

  I’ll just rip you into pieces.

  But of course, that doesn’t work. Instead I just play spectator to the scene.

  The younger, weaker, stupider version of me makes soft whimpers as the birds cease their rain and instead, all that remains is the creaking of the air. The ground quakes.

  Young me lets out a yelp—but it is half-formed thanks to Sadai’s hand clamping over my mouth. He shushes me quietly and points up. Then, he shakes his finger.

  As dumb as that young me is, he understands. I remember this now. But seeing it rendered so clearly is… well, it's something else.

  I try walking to the window and peeking outside myself. But, all I see is darkness.

  So I can’t in fill in the gaps, huh? Understandable I guess. My vision is limited to what the young me saw at this juncture—which is different from how the other dreams worked, but, then again, everything about this one is different.

  The question is, why?

  I shake my head and pace around my room as the young me trembles in Sadai’s arms. The previous Thunder Watcher was not bound to the tower like I was—no he had the capacity to travel across the Adachi domain. I think it was because he didn’t have such a grand vendetta against the Elders. Rather, he was quite the obedient servant.

  He told me later that he’d been conditioned from youth to be a tower servant. So, his whipped nature made sense. Still, they only treated him marginally better than me.

  Finally, the quaking halts. I glance over to Sadai, whose shoulders relax as he opens his arms and withdraws from the young me.

  “You’re safe now,” he sighs.

  The young me doesn’t seem so sure of that. “What was that?”

  “It is best that you don’t find out young cub.”

  A silence reigns in stark contrast to all the chaos from before. The young me shifts and stands up.

  “Thank you, Sadai. You saved me.”

  Sadai shakes his head. “I knew that you’d be alone, unlike the other children. I only wish I got here sooner, Raiten. I’m sorry.”

  He seems about to leave, but the young me tugs on his shoulder and hugs his leg.

  Unsure of what to do, Sadai just pats my scruffy head.

  Watching it again, I wish I could feel the warmth of his touch. The feeling of absolute safety that I was guaranteed in his presence.

  “We dregs have to stick together little cub. No one else will look out for us, right?”

  The young me nods.

  I reach out to Sadai with my spectral form.

  But when I blink, all is gone.

  Instead, a cool breeze whips through the sea-green grass of a rolling field. In the far distance, giant blades and spears are thrust into the ground—as if cast down by angels of distant heavens.

  The Giant's Glades.

  I turn to find the familiar umbrella covered, white-sheeted table at the peak of this little hillock. Sweet-tarts and butter-glazed bread adorn the plates. Steam ventures forth from a flower-patterned kettle, coiling around the air like an Eastern Dragon.

  And of course, sitting there with one leg resting atop the other, tea cup held in her white-gloved hand, is the witch.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Her red hair cradles her neck like fire against bronze. Her crimson eyes peer upon me with strange indifference.

  Not even a hint of anger, like I expected. Nor smugness.

  I stomp up to the table and splay my hands out.

  “Big mistake, I’m going to unleash—”

  “Why do you hate yourself so much?” she asks. The question is so genuine, so lacking in any of her playful seductiveness or malice, that I stutter and pause like a buffoon.

  “What?”

  She takes a sip of her tea and gingerly sets it down—without so much as making a CLINK! on the plates—before addressing me: “I’ve been sorting through your memories for a while now. And every time I go through your past, I just can’t help but feel… sorry for you.”

  I stare at her for a few moments. Try my best to hide the unease settling into my gut.

  My hand shakes.

  I make a fist.

  “You? Sorry for me?” I bark out a laugh. “Please. You kill children without batting an eye, but now, you feel sorry for me? Stop trying to mess with me.”

  She shakes her head. “I mean honestly, if I knew even half as much about you as I do now, I would never have approached our initial conversation the way I did.”

  This is so blatant. She can’t be serious. I slam the table. Tarts go flying. Some of the tea spills onto the white.

  She doesn’t even flinch.

  “Get out of my head. If you don’t, I’m going to—”

  “As soon as you let them free, I’m going to cut the connection. So it won’t really matter.” She stands up now, glides her finger across the circular edge of the table. Scoops up a piece of red tart jelly and holds it up to her eye-level.

  Thraevirula tilts her head. “You and I are far more similar than I thought.”

  I hesitate. I want to just summon the beasts, but I also can’t help this distressing twist in my stomach.

  “How so?”

  “We’ve both suffered the whims of our tormentors. Only, you have suffered in ways that you don’t even realize.” The red glaze on her finger glistens as she steps out into the sun and faces me.

  I squint. “Is this about Saegor?”

  Her eyes draw away from the tart and look directly into me.

  Without a word, she licks her finger—reminds me of a lion licking the blood off its paw.

  This is more like her. I stiffen as she comes right up to me.

  “As you are currently, I have no doubt you’ll never accept my previous offer. But, the least I can do for you is show you what has been stolen without your knowledge.”

  “What are you even talking about—”

  She disappears in front of my eyes. An outline of mist fills the contours of her body.

  “I suffer the company of a man who I can no longer stomach. His breath is like rancid wine and his tongue is greedy with lies. And he is the object of your blood red vengeance,” she whispers in my ear. I try turning around to swing at her, but her touch freezes me.

  “I would give him to you, but I have my own goals. That being said, the way you way torture yourself is unacceptable. It is not right. I will show you how people like us are truly meant to live. But only after I have shown you what has been taken.”

  “Then just show me. Stop wasting my time,” I say through gritted teeth.

  She clicks her tongue. “It takes time to produce these dreams, Raiten. And right now, time is not on your side.”

  Her touch withdraws. I can move once more. Except, I don’t immediately try swinging at her. Nor do I think to draw the beasts of my past. Instead, I turn to her slowly.

  She cups a hand to my cheek. “Oh Raiten. You wouldn’t believe me, but I have wept upon seeing your past. I know what you have suffered. More than anyone else.”

  I scoff. Yet, the way she says it sounds so… real. Or maybe that’s just some part of me that wants it to be real. That wants to be seen, no matter who the seer is.

  Pathetic.

  “I’ll leave you with a parting gift then. The spear will attack soon. I sent it to kill you, but I realize now that that was a mistake. Your plan isn’t a bad one. I wish you luck.”

  She draws close, as if about to kiss me. Startled, when I realize how close she is, I pull away violently.

  Breaking from her grasp, I fall back onto the grass, and the floor beneath me cracks away.

  I fall into the endless, shattered void, flailing and screaming.

  “Raiten! Get up!”

  A new ground pulls up, filled with the bodies of all the creatures I have slain. A bloody pit of all the death I have wrought. And it draws nearer and nearer and—

  “She’s here Raiten.”

  …

  I blink awake. Kiren shakes my shoulder, but his eyes are trained upon our enemy.

  The Lady has come once more. And this time, I can tell she won’t leave until the shield is broken and we are dead.

  I stand, pounding my head with a few slaps.

  Forget about the dream.

  And just do what you do best.

  I stare at the enemy.

  She floats above the apex of the shield, drenched in the gleaming sun like a golden primordial being.

  I spit.

  “Come on then. Let’s kill each other already.”