The Art of Rebellion

Sweet Dreams

I'm standing in a poorly lit living room, and I have absolutely no idea how I got here. There are two arm chairs facing a giant fireplace, and there's vapor coming from one of them. I move to check where it is, and see my mother sitting there, holding a cup of tea.

"I do so hope you don't mind, Kol," she says, looking up. "My dreams have a tendency to get away from me. You're asleep already, huh? I thought you looked tired." She gestures toward the free chair. "Why don't you have a seat? We can help each other pass the time."

I hesitate. She's clearly capable of more types of magic. Is being here even a safe thing to do?

"She is still capable of wielding magic here," Shishi says, perched atop the fireplace. He doesn't look as skinny as he used to. "If she decides to tamper with your mind, I am uncertain I will be able to stop her."

"All the more reason not to disappoint me." The threat isn't veiled at all, so I take my seat. "There. Isn't that comfy?" It really is, but that's hardly something I care about right now.

"How many homunculi are there?" I ask. If I'm gonna be stuck here, I'm at least gonna get something useful out of it.

"Ah, but, in order to get something you want from me, you first have to give me something I want," she proclaims, taking a sip. I expect her to continue right away, but she just sits there, silent.

"Well?" I snap. "What do you want?"

She turns to look at me, her dark eyes reflection the fire's glow. "I want to get to know you. It isn't everyday you meet your son."

"I am not your son."

"You were created to be my son, Kol. Nothing can change that."

"Those are just memories."

"Liar. There's a reason you went easy on me during our little sparring match. You felt something, didn't you?" She's trying to rattle my resolve.

"No," I reply. "I didn't feel a damn thing."

She frowns at that, then looks at the fire. "For every question of mine you answer, I'll answer one in return. Does that sound fair?"

I nod.

"So how many of us are there?"

"You haven't even answered a question yet."

"I did; I said I didn't feel anything."

"That doesn't count."

"I say it does."

"Well, I say it doesn't."

"We're in my dream; My rules apply here."

We enter a staring contest, which I win after a hard-fought battle. She sighs, then speaks. "There are nine of who us are still alive." Both of us catch the mistake she makes, and she winces.

"You're a homunculus?"

"It's my turn to ask a question," she says, avoiding the current one. It's not like I need her to answer it. She's already all but confirmed it. "Who is the person you love most in this world?"

"Why does that matter?" I ask, and she smirks.

"Just trying get to know my son a little better."

"Well, I don't know the answer." It's not a lie. I'm not completely sure who would take that spot right now. The boss? En? Yeah. One of them.

"Wager a guess then."

"My partner," I reply. "The blonde girl who knocked you out."

"Isn't she a bit young for you?" I nearly puke my soul out.