A cold, depressing atmosphere enveloped the dreamscape. A young child lay bloodied on the stone floor, trembling and barely conscious. Aiden stood frozen, his breath caught in his throat as he stared at the pitiful sight before him.
"It's... cold. It hurts..." the boy's inner thoughts whispered, somehow reaching Aiden despite the silence.
Aiden stepped closer, confused and disturbed. "Where am I...? Who is that?" he murmured.
The boy's body twitched. His once pale eyes flickered, rapidly shifting from crimson red to sky blue. His hair began to ripple with unnatural energy—white, then black, then silver, before finally returning to white.
"What is happening...?" Aiden's voice was hollow with confusion. He tried to speak louder, but the boy didn't seem to hear him.
The child suddenly clutched his head in pain. "Ahh! My ears... It hurts!" he cried out.
Aiden watched, horrified, as the boy's ears stretched and reshaped, taking on the distinct pointed features of elven lineage. As Aiden reached out in a desperate attempt to help, the scene warped violently.
Everything spun.
Now, he was the one on the floor.
The pain. The fear. The loneliness. It was no longer a memory he watched—it was a memory he lived.
"So... these are my memories?" Aiden realized as he gritted his teeth, the ache searing into his bones. He felt the phantom weight of abandonment, the sting of betrayal.
"M-Mother..." his child-self sobbed.
Aiden turned toward the corner of the room—and saw her. A lifeless woman, slumped over, her eyes void of life. His breath hitched.
"No..."
He and his younger self collapsed, screaming in unison at the sight of their dead mother, their cries echoing through the void.
THUMP!
A metallic clang echoed from the hallway. Aiden's head snapped to the iron door, and a figure appeared—a tall man cloaked in flowing black drapes, his presence venomous.
"Be silent, you pest," the man hissed. "Your mother failed. She couldn't adapt to the dragon and elf blood I gave you both."
As the man spoke, more memories surged forward. Aiden saw himself strapped down, blood injections forced into his veins, each one bringing waves of unbearable pain. He felt everything.
"And now," the man said, his voice twisted with delight, "we'll see if angel blood is too much for you."
Aiden screamed as the man extended a bony hand toward him. Darkness surged, and his consciousness slipped.
"You truly are a magnificent specimen, Zackary," the voice sneered. "And that's all you're worth."
Everything faded.
In the abyss of slumber, Aiden heard a soft, feminine voice. Warmth wrapped around him like a memory long forgotten. As he opened his eyes, he found himself cradled in the arms of the same woman from earlier—alive this time. Gentle. Smiling.
"Follow your dreams and be happy, Grey," she whispered. "I'll always be watching over you."
Before he could speak—before he could say "mother"—the vision dissolved again.
This time, he was bathed in sunlight.
A beautiful woman with long, flowing black hair stared down at him, her silver eyes glowing with affection. She gently cupped his cheek.
"I guess this is what love is, don't you think?" she said softly, noticing his eyes fluttering closed.
"Sweet dreams, darling."
Once more, Aiden drifted away.
He awoke to a heavy warmth pressing down on him.
"Huh...?" he blinked groggily.
Fenrir lay sprawled across his chest, tongue lolling out as the wolf watched him closely.
"What were those memories...?" Aiden whispered.
He stared at the ceiling, mind swirling with confusion and pain. "Even in this world... I suffered. I guess we really are two halves of the same soul."
Aiden's thoughts spiraled further, pulling forth memories of his previous life—his abusive father, his twisted mother, the lack of love, the endless pain. His childhood was a nightmare, and now, these new memories revealed he had suffered in both lives.
He clenched his fists.
He didn't understand the concept of family—never had. And yet, those brief glimpses of affection, of a mother's embrace, a lover's touch... they stirred something foreign inside him.
Fenrir sensed his turmoil and began licking his face in a rare show of affection.
"O-okay, okay! I'm up!" Aiden chuckled, brushing the massive wolf off him.
Just then, the sound of a soft bell rang. Fenrir had pulled the rope used to summon the maids.
The door burst open.
"Your Grace! You're finally awake!" a female dragon maid exclaimed, rushing to his bedside.
Aiden sat up slowly, stretching out his sore limbs. "How long was I asleep?"
"Two weeks, Your Grace," she replied.
Aiden's eyes widened. "Two weeks...? It only felt like minutes..."
"His Highness instructed us to notify him immediately once you awoke. May I inform him now?"
"Yes. Tell him I'll visit in a few days," Aiden said, his tone quiet but firm.
The maid bowed and left, two attendants staying behind to assist him.
One of them, a nervous butler, spoke up. "Sir Zackary—ah, I mean, Your Grace—there's something else you should know."
Aiden raised an eyebrow.
"Lady Elfreda has awakened from her slumber."
"Elfreda...?" Aiden masked his confusion.
"She's currently training Lord Allen and Lord Vlad. According to her, they are both 'in desperate need of proper education.'"
Aiden smirked slightly. "So she's the sister Ashiq mentioned. If I remember right, female vampires are stronger than males in this world... If she's already training them after just waking up, she must be insane."
He rose from the bed and began dressing, his thoughts drifting.
He had killed someone recently.
The act had come too easily. No guilt. No regret.
"I suppose... I've finally let go of being human."
He stepped toward the towering window that overlooked the Twilight Territory. The soft light of the twin moons cast a silver sheen over the land.
"I was treated like less than a person in my last life... Maybe it's time I stop pretending I was ever human at all."
He stood tall, eyes sharp, heart heavy but clear.
In this life, he would be something greater.
And no one would take that away from him again.