Hidden Life

07. Massive House

The remnants of the dream still clung to Zeyn's mind like a fog, whispering fragmented phrases that twisted and turned in his consciousness. "It's called Alexas... The heir... The lord of all magic..." Chagon Blaze's name echoed in his thoughts, enigmatic and foreboding. He bolted upright, heart racing, sweat clinging to his brow. "Ahhh... ahh... GOD! What a freaky dream. It's awful."

Slowly, he blinked open his eyes, the warm hues of dusk spilling through the window. The soft, golden sunlight painted the room with a sense of peace that contrasted sharply with the turmoil inside him. "But, I'm not dead yet," he murmured, reminding himself of his tenuous grasp on reality. The environment around him felt strangely familiar, a comforting blend of warmth and coolness that soothed his troubled heart.

Zeyn found himself standing on a roof, disoriented and confused. He couldn't remember how he had gotten there, but the sight before him was breathtaking. The horizon stretched endlessly, kissed by the setting sun, the colors blending into a masterpiece of oranges and purples. It was as if he had been transported to another world, a sanctuary far removed from his painful past.

Looking down, he noticed his backpack still slung over his shoulder. A glimmer of relief washed over him. "If this was a kidnapping, at least they didn't steal my bag," he thought, thankful for the small victories. The realization brought him a moment of clarity; if he still had his belongings, perhaps he could piece together what had happened.

Carefully, he maneuvered down from the roof, his heart pounding with anticipation and fear. He approached a wooden door that seemed to beckon him forward. A shiver ran down his spine as he wondered what awaited him inside. Zeyn hesitated, then spent a few moments trying to figure out the door's mechanism. With a creak, it swung open, but not without incident. As he stepped onto the doormat, something hit his head and clattered to the floor.

"Ow! I'm such an idiot!" he exclaimed, rubbing the sore spot on his scalp. He glanced down, lying on the ground. "How could I not see that?" The key was not just a mundane object; it felt like a symbol of his journey, a sign that he was meant to uncover something vital about himself.

Once inside, he looked in his surroundings. The house, though old, bore signs of modern renovations. It blended rustic charm with contemporary sophistication—wooden beams held up high ceilings, and sunlight streamed through tall windows, illuminating the elegant decor. Zeyn's curiosity piqued; he felt a pull to explore further, to understand the mysteries of this place.

He climbed the staircase, his footsteps echoing softly against the polished wood. The corridor opened up to three doors, each leading to a bedroom that held secrets of its own. He chose the third room, stepping inside cautiously. The atmosphere was heavy with silence, and he felt an odd sense of belonging wash over him. It was a space filled with light, warmth, and a lingering scent of lavender, inviting him to rest.

After washing up and tidying himself, Zeyn finally let his body succumb to fatigue. He crawled into the bed, sinking into the plush mattress, and closed his eyes. Sleep beckoned him, but his mind was still racing, haunted by unanswered questions. The weight of his past loomed large, the memories of his family's murder clawing at his thoughts.

"What is the truth behind all this?" he pondered, frustration bubbling up inside him. The fragmented pieces of his life felt like a puzzle he couldn't solve, but he knew he had to try. There was something about this house, this strange new place, that felt pivotal to his journey.

With each passing moment, he drifted closer to sleep, determined to confront the demons of his past and uncover the truth that lay hidden in the shadows. In this place of uncertainty, Zeyn knew that the answers he sought were waiting to be unveiled, and he would not rest until he had faced them