Dazzling Light | ATEEZ

Moving In

In the Dreamworld

He's here again, in this place, this desolate landscape, void of all life except him. His light shirt offers no protection against the icy cold wind slicing into his skin. The sky is pitch black, with only a sprinkling of stars scattered around its vast expanse. The pristine white sand beneath his bare feet is smooth and fine, perhaps the only forgiving thing in this land. A gigantic glowing tree looms in the distance, orbs of light dangling from its branches, which otherwise have no leaves. No matter how much distance he covers, how fast he runs, he is never a step closer to the tree.

Seonghwa is at his wit's end. He has been trapped in this place for as long as he can remember dreaming. The same bleak white desert, the same unreachable tree, the same pain, and suffering of being unable to escape his fate.

Was he fated to traverse this desert alone, for the rest of his life? Was he meant to spend eternity chasing what he cannot have? Why is he here? What is this place? Who bought him here? Has he been here all this time?

A squall roars past him and a violent shudder brings Seonghwa to his knees. He wraps his thin arms around himself, attempting to warm his freezing body.

It's so cold.

Seonghwa can feel it. The cold is claiming him. He looks forward, towards the tree. The orbs emit soft amber light.

It looks warm over there.

Seonghwa wants to feel warm, even just for a while. He attempts to get back on his feet, but his limbs are stiff from the cold. He breaks his fall by putting his arms in front of him, but they're too weak to support him.

Face-down in the sand, body freezing from the exposure, exhausted from running across miles and miles of desert, Seonghwa curls into a ball and weeps.

"Why?" he sobs as his tears turn to ice on his cheeks.

It's so cold, Seonghwa doesn't know how long he can keep himself awake. His body is slowing down, focusing what little energy he has left into preserving body heat. His eyes are heavy, but he wills them open. If he closes them, he might never open them again. But maybe for a moment...

"Little flower."

Seonghwa's breath hitches and his eyes snap open. That voice again. The same voice that saves him from succumbing to the cold that's trying to consume him.

"My little flower." the woman whispers, her voice like a haunting melody ringing in his ears. "Why are you crying, little flower?" she asked.

Seonghwa forces his body to turn to his other side. There she is, standing a few paces away from him, like always. She walks towards him and kneels.

The woman is tall, dressed in a black suit, with a black cape that reaches her knees. She has waist-length blonde hair, pale blue eyes, a pointed nose, high cheekbones, full dark red lips, and a sharp jawline. She's almost a mirror image of him, if not for the ever-present wolfish grin on her face.

"What does my little flower need?" the woman asks, pulling him up into a sitting position. But Seonghwa is too weak and he collapses against her.

The woman holds him close, letting him bury his face into the crook of her neck. He inhales her familiar scent. She always smells of spicy white sandalwood, cool icy sage, and warm, sweet amber.

It smells like home.

"Are you tired, little flower? Would you like to lay down for a bit?" the woman asked. Seonghwa nodded, his hair brushing against her cheek.