Chapter 18: Midnight Eyes and Golden Dreams
In the middle of the night, Ravi completed his extra prayer in the small rented room where he'd stayed this past week. The room smelled faintly of cedar and ink.
In one corner stood a sturdy wooden desk. At its center lay an open notebook with coarse yellowed pages, lit softly by a western-style lamp fixed to the wall. Eight books were neatly stacked beside it. Along the edge rested a sword sheathed in black with a silver lining.
Ravi folded the jainamaz and removed his white prayer cap, placing them carefully on the bed. As he turned back toward the desk, he noticed a pale blue-white sheen covering the surface—an ethereal veil caused by the light streaming in through the open window.
Subconsciously, he looked upward.
Two moons floated in the night sky—one large and silver-white, the other smaller, glowing with a piercing blue radiance. Together, they hung like silent watchers over a world still brimming with secrets.
The room was modest. A bed stood low to the floor near the opposite wall. Beside it, a cabinet with drawers and a full-length mirror. Everything was made of wood—simple, unadorned, but warm.
On the notebook, black dust was scattered over ancient Portene script. The ink shimmered faintly.
"It's good to see you're okay. The Scorpio Order won't move for a while. But beware of the white-masked figure … and the Order of Cards. Stay safe."
Ravi smiled faintly.
He tore the page cleanly from the notebook. As shadows curled around it, a soft white light burned it away—leaving no trace.
Across the city, Waker opened his eyes. "It's midnight … "
He rose from his thin blanket and walked to the window. The rain had finally stopped. A breeze carried the mixed fragrance of wet soil, pinewood, and wildflowers. It cleared the last traces of sleep from his mind.
He washed his face, rinsed his mouth, and used a willow twig coated with snow salt to clean his teeth—an old tradition. After that, he performed ablution with practiced ease.
But his mind lingered on a dream.
In it, Waker had stood in a wide prairie of yellow-green grass beneath a golden sky. In front of him—trapped behind silver bars adorned with five ancient discs—stood a colossus. It pulsed with power. As he looked above there hovered a gaping golden mouth, descended from the sky itself.
The next moment, he was swallowed in radiant light … drifting into a golden, formless realm.
Somewhere in that radiant light emerged a void, from it a shadow watched him.
"If only your Essence Aspect was better," it muttered, vanishing into the dark.
"You could've been a trump card."
Morning.
At the guild, Ravi and Waker sat down to eat a light breakfast. The usual hustle of the streets beyond filtered through the windows—clatter, voices, the sharp snap of hooves on stone. Life had returned to the city after days of storms.
After clearing their plates, the two approached the guildmaster's counter.
Bayer was deep in a book, eyes narrowed, lips pressed tight in thought.
Neither Ravi nor Waker disturbed him. Finally, Bayer shut the book and looked up. "I have a C-ranked mission for the two of you."
Waker blinked. "C-rank?"
He had only ever been given two of those—missions that meant days away from home, often through dangerous terrain with minimal rest. Escorts, scouting, or long-distance delivery where bandits, cursed beasts, and even phantom creatures roamed unchecked.
Ravi nodded slightly, hiding the satisfaction flickering in his eyes.
Everything is moving into place …