Charles Wicker

Chapter 1

At a distance, Charles heard a bell chime. It was a high-pitched chime; loud, yet sounded so lonely in this darkness he currently faced. A fallen noble, a bastard Count, Charles didn't know why those names entered his mind at that moment. Was the bell a sign for him to remember his death? He was indeed among the oldest human being to ever lived amidst the age where people's lifespan didn't stretch far pass 60 years old. 70 years old, that's old enough already.

The fallen Count's train of thoughts stopped when the sound of the bell—which chimed repeatedly in a slow and periodical manner—disappeared. Charles unconsciously held in his breath in anticipation, waiting for the next scene to unfold. He knew he was dreaming—it's a rarity as he grew older—so when he dreamed, he would always look forward to them. At least dreams are better than the trashy life he had led so far.

A white light grew in the distance, as if signalling the start of another dream. Charles was prepared to see what his mind would do to entertain him, when suddenly, he felt a throbbing pain at the back of his neck. Charles moved his hands and cupped his nape. And as he was about to writhe, everything came into his view almost instantly.

He saw the view of a man, with a height the tallest he had ever witnessed in his life. His raven wavy hair that covered his eyes radiates a sense of mystery as the unknown young man walked past the trees, inside a forest that Charles couldn't help but feel familiar of.

The man came by a body which was laying down on the ground. The body looks lifeless, as per indicated by the pale skin that turned slightly grey when being shone by the moonlight. The dead body—malnourished and dressed with an outfit of a peasant—has a huge blow injury on the right side of its abdomen, completely leaving its abdomen with a devastating hollow that pierces through its body. What a gruesome sight, yet at the same time, the uneasiness that came welling inside Charles made the old noble restless. This scene was too vivid in his mind.

The mysterious man then knelt down beside the body, which upon a closer look, was a body of a man. What came after that put Charles in a daze. The unknown man reached out to the dead body's hand before he kissed the back of that cold hand. A thin stream of tears flowed down his pale cheeks, before he succumbed into a disheartened sob.

The old noble couldn't do anything but stayed still as he watched the young man mourned the body.

It was the first time that Charles had been served this kind of dream. He heard that dreams are a twisted sense of reality jumbled up with sceneries and people that he had encountered once. The night time forest was a proof of that, as he remembered seeing it once before, yet the young man was a first. As the mysterious man's sobs prolonged, it became too unbearable for Charles to watch. He closed his eyes in hopes that the dream would fade away and be replaced with a different one, and that he wouldn't have to hear that man's sorrowful cries. Suddenly, the young man stood up and carried the dead body in his arms, before looking at the full moon that hanged in the night sky.

"I'm sorry I couldn't find you earlier... my love." His gaze shifted down to the body in his arms before he went in a kissed its cheeks.

For a moment, that made Charles wonder who the body was, that it made the young man cried so miserably. Charles floated closer to the young man, who, of course, didn't see him floating in front of him.

A short, caramel coloured hair that glistened in the moonlight. It took Charles a while to realize who the body was, and when he did, he could feel blood draining from his face.

It was him; the dead body was him.

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