Three Fates Entwined | Dream Team

Chapter Eighteen

Dream spent a week, then another, training as a knight. He learned more moves with a sword. He improved with a bow. He lamented the fact that he couldn't use a crossbow.

But most of all, he got closer to George and Sapnap. At that point, they were the best friends he had ever had. Sure, they were also the only friends he had ever had, being an assassin and all, but they treated him like an equal, not some god to praise and worship.

Then again, they didn't know the whole truth. If they did... maybe they would treat him differently.

Dream slashed at his opponent. He ducked to the side as their sword sliced past his head, then parried another blow.

"Not bad," he admitted.

His opponent, Sapnap, grinned at him. "I'm improving, aren't I?"

And he was. In two weeks, he had improved so much from the already-talented fighter he was to become Dream's equal. He was having trouble defeating him as easily, that much was certain.

"You've always been good," George said grumpily.

"You're improving too, George," Dream told him.

He perked up, pretending to be overly happy. "Really? I think I've got my duck duck down, but I haven't used it in battle before so I can't be certain...."

Dream laughed, and the other two joined in with him. It felt nice to actually laugh about something, and Dream had been given that opportunity multiple times in the past week.

"I think we'll be the best knights," Sapnap boasted. "We've practiced so much more than everyone else, and we've only been here for a few weeks."

"Shh, don't say that with Filens around," George said, looking around. "He'll probably tell us to study the ways of the meerkats to learn how to be more humble."

Dream chuckled. "But his obsession with animals is good. Nature came first, and there is much to learn from it."

"Come on, Clay," Sapnap complained. "Don't tell me you're going to become Filens the Second. I don't think I can stand one Filens."

George swatted his arm. "He's a good knight, Sapnap."

"Sure, sure, but he's also a barnyard animal fanatic!"

"There's nothing wrong with being slightly obsessed with animals," Dream said defensively.

"He is more than slightly obsessed. He taught you how to duck like a duck."

Sapnap sheathed his sword and folded his arms. The ends of the white headband he wore fluttered in the breeze. It was slightly chilly out, with autumn starting to come around. George was wearing the least, with just a simple blue t-shirt and jeans. Sapnap was wearing a white t-shirt with another baggy black long-sleeves one underneath it, which was probably a lot warmer.

Dream himself was wearing a green hoodie over his usual black clothes and some black jeans. He had gotten so used to using a sword while training that his knife was stored away dejectedly in his drawer, next to his mask.

His mask.... Every time that Dream opened the compartment, it was the first thing that he would see. A reminder of his life, and of what he was actually doing there.

Dream closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again. Sapnap and George were fooling around, pushing each other and joking. He smiled softly.

"It's getting late," George said, glancing up at the sky. "We should probably go get some sleep."

***

Dream never really appreciated the fact that he was a light sleeper until it saved his life.

Naturally, he could wake up at any minute, alert and ready for danger. It was how he had trained himself to be.

The sound of soft footsteps drew him out of his slumber. He opened his eyes blearily, but became immediately alert as the sound of footsteps came closer. By the way they were walking, it was clear that they knew what they were doing. Only a practiced ear like Dream's could hear the steps.

He reached over towards his drawer and opened it, pulling his knife out of its sheath. It was pitch black in his room, which meant that it was probably some time in the dead of night. He could barely see, so instead, he closed his eyes.

Someone entered his room. Dream lay perfectly still in his bed, his hands hidden under the folds of his blanket. He was feeling eerily calm, even to himself, but then again, stuff like this was his forte.

The person in his room was standing right next to him. He could hear their quiet breathing. There was the sound of a knife being drawn, then the sound of said knife whizzing down towards him.

Immediately, Dream rolled to the side. The blade of the knife lodged in the foam of the bed. He lunged forward, his own knife held parallel to his arm, and slashed in a wide arc in the direction of his attacker. There was a grunt, and then a body hit the ground.

Dream opened his eyes and groped around. He found the lantern on his table and the box of matches he had left beside it, then clumsily lit it.

The room was bathed in light. He looked around, blinking at the sudden brightness, then turned his attention down to the body.

The man wore black clothes, clearly to blend into the night. Long leather straps crisscrossed his chest, each holding multiple tiny knives. His head was shaved. Blueish tattoos ran down the side of his neck, disappearing beneath the high collar of his jacket. A line of red ran across his neck where Dream had connected with his knife, effectively killing him in an instant.

Dream tsked under his breath. It was an assassin, probably sent to take his life. But why? Who would dare send someone after him?

Neck tattoos. The fastest way for you to be recognized. This guy was an idiot. And yet the man had gotten into the castle, which even he knew was a difficult task.

Either he had outside help, or he was really, really good.

Dream inhaled sharply. Nobody was supposed to know where he was. He didn't tell anyone before he left, and he didn't meet anyone he knew on the journey to the castle. That could only mean....

He set down the lantern, feeling suddenly dizzy.

Peligro.