Traum von Asterhive

The Dream

When you open your eyes, everything is different. You feel cold marble beneath your fingertips, and someone at your back.

"Hello," says the someone.

"Hello," you reply. "Who are you?"

"Somebody," he replies. "Nobody. Who are you?"

"I'm me," you say, and he laughs. You cannot describe his voice, but you're not afraid. You glance to the side and see his shadow. It looks familiar.

"Knight?" you ask.

"Maybe," he says. "Maybe not."

"Can't you answer me straight?"

"Why should I?"

"Because this is getting nowhere."

Somehow, you know he's smiling sadly. "Isn't that the point of these things?"

You swallow. It tastes sour. "Why am I here?"

"Because you want to be, I assume."

"Why are you here?"

"Because you want me to be, I assume."

You frown. "Do I know you?"

"You must have. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here." A pause. "Do you not want me here?"

"I don't know," you admit.

He hums. The tune's the same as the nonsense song you sang an eternity ago.

"This is a dream, you know." He says it so plainly, like saying he's stating the weather today or the color of blood.

"Is that so?"

"Why else would a world such as this exist?" The world flickers. "How else could a world such as this be?"

That knowledge drifts through your mind like a pebble in syrup.

"You're not real then," you say.

"No, but for now at least, I am. Just as this world is."

You feel something heavy in your chest. "So you'll be dead when I wake?"

"That would require my being alive first," he says lightly. He seems to lean against you, then in a heavier voice, "But essentially, yes. Me, and Knight, and this whole pretty, broken world."

"I wish it wouldn't."

"You can't choose such things," he sighs. "Don't worry though, you'll forget me soon enough. You'll forget everything. You'll be home."

"Can't I keep you?" you ask, voice cracking. "Can't I keep Knight?"

"Silly wishes. You can try, but we'll be nothing but pale shadows of what you see here."

You clench your fists. "I'll keep that then, if nothing else."

"Do as you like," he says, and the world begins to break apart.

"I hate this," you say. You've only been here for a moment, but you know it's true.

There is silence for a long while, then-

"Me too," he says.

You turn to look at him, despite yourself. You can see his face clearly now, but you know you'll never see it again as hard as you try. Pale eyes, pale hair, dark clothes. That's the most you can remember, so you burn it into your memory.

"It's just a dream," he says, tilting his head. "You shouldn't be so sad."

You look at him. Pale hair, pale eyes, black clothes. "What's your name?"

"I don't have one," he answers.

"Can I give you one?"

He smiles a bit. "If you remember."

The world flickers.

It should feel strange, awkward even, to hug him as this reality shifts away, but why would anyone feel awkward hugging a dear friend?

"Goodbye," you say, through the void-colored static.

You can't feel anymore, but you know he hugs you back. "Farewell, my friend."

The world goes black once more.