The Curse of Memories ☆ | The Golden Guard

☆Revelations☆

Uh hi

TW:

Slight descriptions of Blood and wounds

Murder

Word count:1.8k

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I feel like I can't breathe properly. Like there is a weight on my chest and there isn't anything I can do about it. There is an aching feeling covering my whole body, it makes me uncomfortable. The dream feels familiar. I had experienced it before but my memories would not give me the answers. But I knew, my emotions knew. An overwhelming sense of dread washes over me in waves, when I think I've escaped the winding rapids it hits me again pulling me down deeper.

I stand in a familiar room. Bookcases line the walls on either side of me, shelves filled with different books. A beautiful stained glass window stands in front of me. I stand there looking out the window at the street below. I shake my head and turn away, walking over to the desk in the room. The desk is covered with books and papers with illegible writing on them. I stare at the messy desk for a moment, I start picking up the books that don't have bookmarks scattered throughout the pages. Carrying the books over to the bookshelf, I place them back in the correct places.

Even with such a mundane action, the feeling of dread never leaves me. It hangs around me, haunting my brain. Regret, sadness and anger all filling my thoughts. I can not wrap my head around why I feel like this.

I continue putting the books away but stop just before I can fully put the last one away. Looking at the book's front cover, the letters of the title seem to jumble together, making it impossible to read, but the cover shows something relating to Oracle magic. I stare at the cover for a moment. I place the book on a stool next to the bookcase, whispering something about remembering to return it.

The dream continues similarly for an insufferable amount of time. Finally, after some time I hear a knock on the door. A hard, quick knock. I quickly look at the door. There is a pause, the world around me slowed. I shout, "Come in!"

Slowly a figure walks into the room.

The first thing I notice is the blood.

Panic rushes over me.

"Philip, what happened?!"

He doesn't respond for a moment. His eyes bore holes into me, it was like every word I said fueled him more. His hands stay locked behind his back. I feel uneasy in his gaze. I repeat my question, this time slower.

Philip steps fully into the room and closes the door behind him. I don't move, I stand there like an idiot. I smell that odd metallic scent of blood, it makes me sick. We stare at each other in silence.

When he finally speaks his words confuse me. "This is your fault."

I'm taken off guard by the sudden accusatory tone. "What are you talking about?" I finally ask. He takes a few cautious steps towards me. "You know exactly what I'm talking about!" He raises his voice then he lowers it to just above a whisper. "Caleb is dead because of you."

My eyes widen as I stare at the man with disbelief. "What..?" My voice comes out shaky. A million questions fill my head but my mouth can't seem to translate any of my thoughts. I stare at him, looking for some type of hint that he was joking or an explanation. But I find nothing.

"Philip. What happened..?" I ask slowly hoping for some type of answer that is understandable. He takes a step closer to me. I try to step away from him. My back is pushed up against the bookcase.