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Fleth was one of the most feared fighters in the pits.
The stories about him alone were enough to paint a menacing picture.
And that was before knowing his appearance.
He was ruthless, cunning, and took pleasure in toying with his opponents.
And his Prizes.
The sight of his dream was intriguing.
Despite its predominantly white hue, the black tendrils seemed to be growing in size and intensity. “Why does it look like that?” I asked, my voice hushed.
Tix’s face was serious, as he explained. “The white represents his normal dream state. The black tendrils? They indicate the presence of fears, insecurities, or traumas. When they take over, the dream will become a nightmare.”
A mixture of curiosity and apprehension filled me.
This could be the key to Tix’s success in the upcoming battle.
If we could understand Fleth’s fears, maybe we could use them against him.
“We need to be careful,” Tix said, squeezing my hand for reassurance. “Entering a nightmare is unpredictable and can be dangerous.”
I nodded, taking a deep breath.
The dreamscape changed as we got closer, becoming more intense, a hint of something smoky and charred. “I trust you,” I whispered, my voice filled with conviction.
Tix gave me a nod, his lips curving into a brief smile.
The moment was suspended, the world around us fading away, as the only thing that mattered was the connection between us, strong and unbreakable.
Then, without another word, we stepped into Fleth’s dream, plunging into the unknown.
* * *
The sensation of entering another’s dream is unlike any other.
It’s like being submerged underwater, feeling the pressure on all sides, then bursting forth into another realm entirely.
When Tix and I entered Fleth’s dream, I was met with a disorienting kaleidoscope of colors and sensations.
The ground under my feet felt soft and pliable, like walking on a sponge, while the sky shifted in a dizzying array of pastel shades, from lavender to mint green.
The air was thick with burnt wood and blooming flowers that made my nose twitch.
My ears picked up the distant rumbling, and I turned to see a massive volcano in the distance, spewing a column of ash and lava.
Yet, the most unexpected sight was right before us.
There, in a grassy clearing, sat a young child playing with wooden toys.
It took me a moment to realize that the boy with curly hair and chubby cheeks was Fleth.
He seemed lost in his own world, the joy of childhood evident in his bright eyes and delighted giggles.
“Is that… Fleth?” I whispered to Tix, my voice filled with incredulity.
He nodded. “Dreams have a way of showing our most vulnerable selves,” he murmured.
