𝓢𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓶𝓪𝓷'𝓼 𝓓𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶

𝑯𝒐𝒃 𝑮𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈

Twenty Three

Reeling in the peace we've established among ourselves, Morpheus and I head to Brewers Lane.

On purpose, we carried on revealing ourselves to the eyes of the mortal, letting them see us as one of them.

Every now and then, I smile at the strangers we cross paths with and later on, Morpheus begins copying my gesture. Unfortunately, not everyone seemed to appreciate our enthusiasm.

"It's all right," I said, consoling Morpheus who had scowled at the rude boy who attempted to bump into him. "Some mortals are like that, but not everyone."

He nodded understandably, his scowl slowly fading.

I can't blame him for feeling disappointed for how he was treated. He's a King in his kingdom and yet the people down here, who are oblivious of his identity, perceive him irrelevant.

I've done my absolute best to get his mind off it by telling him uplifting stories about my stay here in the waking world. But his devastation returned when we arrived at that area where we were supposed to meet our oldest friend.

The pub was gated and ruined, prepared to be demolished if it hadn't already been. Clutters of garbage and torn materials were scattered all around the vicinity and no soul was present to answer our qualms.

Morpheus walked near to the gate, staring at the ruins before us as if he was willing it to play every memory he's had of that place since the first time he set foot there.

1389

To celebrate the hundredth year of my peaceful service to The Dreaming, Death and Morpheus took me down to the waking world.

Death and I were clad in fitted black kirtles, and white headpieces that hid our hairs, while Morpheus was fashioned with a black tunic that matches his straight shoulder-length dark hair which he displayed openly.

Death was overly ecstatic of that trip. I was only obliging as they did it for me. And Morpheus looked evidently forced to comply with his sister's request and be there on behalf of his sovereignty over me.

We were going to have a good time. That was the plan when Death brought us to this pub in London which she heard mortals were fond to go to.

"Come on." Death said, clinging an arm to mine while gesturing to her brother to follow behind us.

"Very well," Morpheus grumbled, frowning a little. "But I do not see what purpose this will serve."

"To get out and meet them and make dear Katrien feel right at home like we agreed." Death said, heading for the door with me in tow to open and enter it.

"Her home is The Dreaming now." Morpheus protested in which I nodded in agreement.

"Oh, come on," Death said. "I think maybe it would be good for you to see them on their terms, instead of yours."

I leaned close to Morpheus when Death let me go. "How about this, my Lord, we'll stay for a bit to please your sister and then we will flee the first chance we've got?"

The corner of his lips rose in amusement of my suggestion. "Have I ever told you about your knack of reminding me why I must be grateful to have you in my realm?"

"Every time you have the chance." I chuckled as I nodded.

"Sir, penny ale for me, my brother and our friend, if it pleases you." Death told the servant standing nearby bearing cups.

"Certainly, lady." He replied and handed the cups he's holding to us.

"Thank you." I accepted mine while Death took it upon herself to give Morpheus his.