Arthur woke up and talked to Luke. The morning light shone down brightly. They decided to stay one more night, and as the day progressed, Luke and he had many good conversations. But for some reason, Arthur kept experiencing an almost painful amount of déjà vu.
Each time it happened, the sensation would wash over him like a wave—powerful, disorienting, and then gone just as quickly. The pressure behind his temples would build momentarily before subsiding, leaving him confused and slightly unnerved.
Chalking it up to lack of sleep, he ignored it and they went on with their day until night time came. The moon rose into the night sky, its pale light seeping down upon them, finally prompting Arthur to get the sleep he needed. He leaned up against the cold stone wall and closed his eyes, swiftly slipping into slumber.
Only this time, he did not simply wake up the next morning. This time, for the first time since waking up in this realm, he had a dream...
It was dark, and everything was blurry, like a veil covered what he was supposed to see. He heard words, but they were muffled, and he couldn't understand what was being said. All he could put together was how the dream made him feel. He felt scared, terrified even. But more than anything, he felt sad—not average sadness but overwhelming sorrow that seemed to permeate his very being. The emotions felt foreign yet familiar, as though he was experiencing someone else's grief through his own heart.
And then he was awakened by the feeling of a hand starkly pressing against his shoulder.
"Arthur, wake up! You're sleeping half the day away!"
Arthur blasted upwards, ready to manifest his sword, when he was met with the view of his friend Luke sitting in front of him with his eyes lit in shock.
"Relax! It's just me, Arthur," Luke said, hands raised in a placating gesture, his expression shifting from surprise to concern.
Arthur let go of a held breath of restlessness and fell back against the cold stone wall, remembering that he was safe and with his friend. His pulse gradually slowed as reality settled back around him.
"S-sorry," he mumbled, his voice rough from sleep.
Luke smiled and sat next to him, "No worries man. I get it... it's been rough out here."
Arthur sighed and relaxed back on the cold stone wall, looking up at the blue sky overhead. The day appeared peaceful—deceptively so, given the world they now inhabited. Suddenly, a splitting headache came on with a sense of déjà vu, and he remembered that weird dream.
'What the hell is happening? My head is killing me, and what was with that dream?' Arthur thought, rubbing his temples, attempting to soothe his head until the feeling went away. Then Arthur pushed it to the back of his mind, not wanting to startle Luke with his concerns. Some burdens were best carried alone.
They decided to stay one more day and had plenty of nice conversations all the way up until the sunlight faded and darkness took over the sky. They shared stories, discussed their plans once they made it back, and even managed to laugh despite their circumstances. It felt good—normal, even—a rare commodity in their current situation.
And soon after nightfall, Arthur was sound asleep, his body surrendering to exhaustion despite the hard floor beneath him. Even sooner after that, he was struck with another dream... or was it his first dream? Who could say for certain anymore?
He dreamed of a blurry scene. He couldn't make out what he was seeing, but the feelings made themselves clear: fear, agony, and such an immense amount of sorrow and sadness that it felt like drowning. There was one more feeling, but he couldn't quite pinpoint it—something elusive yet significant, hovering just beyond his comprehension.
Soon he heard talking, broken up and muffled so he couldn't understand much.
"What...a...you?...why?"
The words were a jumble and didn't make much sense, but the feelings were clear, and even though he didn't know what prompted them, Arthur felt the sadness all the same. It weighed on him like a physical presence, pressing down upon his chest, making it difficult to breathe even within the dream.
And then he felt a hand starkly push his shoulder, making him wake up.
"Arthur..." He looked to his right to see his friend Luke kneeling beside him, face etched with concern in the dim morning light.
"What?" Arthur asked, confused by Luke's odd expression.
"Nothing, it's just... you're crying."
Arthur's brow furrowed, and his face contorted in confusion. "What?" He quickly felt a drop of a tear fall off his face and wiped his teary eyes with his sleeve. 'Why am I…'
Suddenly, Arthur remembered the dream. 'What the hell was that?' And soon he remembered something else as well... well "remembered" was a strong word.
"...you're sleeping the day away?" Arthur said under his breath to himself in confusion, the phrase appearing in his mind unbidden.
Luke's head tilted. "What was that?"
Arthur's head popped up, and he looked at his friend. "W-what? Oh, uh, nothing." His heart raced as he tried to make sense of what was happening to him.
Luke gave him an odd look but pushed no further.
'Why did I say that? And what is this weird feeling? Like déjà vu or something.' Arthur's confusion lingered, but realizing he couldn't get to the bottom of whatever it was that was plaguing his mind, he ignored it and went on with his day.
They decided to stay here one more day so they could rest some more before heading out. They were safe enough here, and they both needed to recover their strength for the journey ahead. They spent the rest of the day talking and laughing, swapping stories and making plans that felt increasingly like fantasy given their circumstances.
Eventually, it was time for bed, and Arthur was more than ready, falling fast asleep almost instantly, his body grateful for the respite despite his mind's unease.
But soon, yet another dream plagued his sleep.
Or the first dream... who knows?
The veil over his vision seemed a bit thinner this time, the figures a bit less blurry, though still unrecognizable. The sounds were slightly clearer too, though the words remained indecipherable, like listening to a conversation underwater. The feelings, however, were just as intense—perhaps even more so.
Fear. Sadness. Loss. And underneath it all, that strange, unidentifiable emotion that seemed to connect everything else.
Something was trying to reach him through these dreams, Arthur was certain of it now. Something important, something he needed to understand. But what? And why?
As consciousness began to pull at him once more, Arthur clung desperately to the fading images, trying to grasp something concrete before they disappeared entirely.
Then came the hand on his shoulder, and the all-too-familiar voice:
"Arthur, wake up. You're sleeping the day away."