How to Be a God [ManXMan]

Chapter Nineteen: When in Rome

~Chapter Nineteen: When in Rome~

Standing in the middle of a brightly-lit field is not what I went to bed hoping to dream about. Only a moment ago, I had been chasing a boar through an unnamed forest armed with a spear, when the scenery suddenly changed. Unfortunately, I had already thrown my spear by the time my dream was overthrown by Hypnos, as I would have liked to keep it with me to shove it through Atlas' dream heart. Maybe then, he would understand that I do not wish to speak with him right now.

A message that he cannot seem to grasp, no matter how bluntly I have told him the past three nights.

Despite our agreement that he would wait until I wanted to speak with him again, I have been pulled from my dreams every night since I regaining my health. The first time, four nights ago, Atlas said he had something important to talk about, but I was too tired to really care, as Hypnos caught me right after I fell asleep rather than giving me a few hours to rest properly. Instead of listening, I focused on breaking the dream, which I succeeded in doing after a few seconds. Three nights ago, he tried to appear again, I think – it might have been an actual dream that time – but I suppose the connection was not strong enough, since he disappeared without a word a couple of seconds later and I slept peacefully through the night.

The last two nights, I have been pulled into a different setting than the ones Hypnos usually drops me in – the sitting room and the garden Atlas and I met in – but Atlas never appears, which I find to be odd, but more annoying than concerning. If I did not feel Hypnos' presence each time, I might be more concerned, but my guess is that Atlas is either listening in or Hypnos is just being a detestable nuisance.

Since he started allowing me to have more time sleep before dragging me into this dream realm, though, I always give Hypnos, what I estimate to be, three minutes before summoning a small dagger and stabbing myself in the leg. It is a painful way to wake myself up, but I have found it works better than 'pinching' oneself awake, as I have seen fictional characters do in books.

Tonight, though, I just take a moment to frown around the empty field, wondering why Hypnos continues to bring me here for no reason, before mentally summoning a blade, as anything is possible in a dream, and push the sharp blade into my thigh with a grimace.

The pain is realistic enough that, upon waking up, I run my hand over my thigh to make sure there is not an actual dagger there. Sighing when I find nothing, I look around to figure out the time. There are only a few slivers of pale sunlight slipping through the white curtains, suggesting that it is still quite early in the morning. That, or I suppose it could be a cloudy day. One glance at the clock proves the latter to be true. It is already eight in the morning and, if I listen closely, I can hear soft voices coming from downstairs.

I look at Jasper, but he is still sleeping, if his soft snores are anything to go by. His quiet snoring is quite a relief actually, as Atlas used to snore like a growling tiger and it took a magic bubble to make sleeping next to him possible. Before I discovered the wonders of the magic bubble, though, there were more than a few nights where I wanted to suffocate the Titan with a pillow just to make him stop.

Listening carefully for any signs of Jasper waking, I slip out of my sheets and swap my rumpled clothing for a green t-shirt and black jeans. As I am pulling on the shirt, I spot something on the ceiling over Jasper's bed that has me smiling broadly. I then quietly leave the room, making sure to close the door softly behind me. With nothing more than socks on my feet, I silently make my way downstairs, not wanting to rouse any of the others who might still be sleeping.

In the living room, sitting near the lit fireplace, James and Aaron are sleepily sipping what smells like coffee in rumbled sleepwear. Neither seems really awake, though they occasionally grumble at the each, having what sounds to be a conversation in some sort of verbal shorthand. I pass through the living room without either of them seeming to notice my existence, which is rather amusing. I had already learned that Jasper is not a morning person, but I did not think it was inherited.