When Densel next opened his eyes, he was welcome, once again, to his dream, in fact, his only dream for the past 2 years. In it, resided a sole standing Ebony Tower in a land of white- He liked to imagine it represented his isolationist being, his need for independence. For miles around it, trees bled white leaves that fell to the ground in complete silence. There was no noise- not here. No rustling of leaves, no whispers amongst the trees, nothing.
This wasn't God damn Narnia.
There wasn't even a breeze. The only thing Densel knew was that there were shadows...
And they stretched long.
He stuck his hands in his pockets. Here, he was never injured, he was never in pain. There was nothing. It was the only reason why he found such pleasure in dreaming...
And yet such pain in knowing that it would all be gone when he awoke.
He scoffed internally. He should be glad he was alive in the first place, not reaching out for the impossible. He'd already decided on not letting anyone have the pleasure of seeing him down- after all, he had too many people to piss off. He would never go down without a fight.
He walked along the edged of an ebony stream, leaning over it. Instead of his own reflection, he saw his father. Paralyzed, he watched as his father came closer, closer...
And with his father's enraged yell, Densel leaped back, his heart thundering furiously. His eyes widened in horror as his father manifested before him, dripping with venom and hatred for him.
His father growled in a feral manner at his shocked expression.
"Oh you utter fool- I did hope that you were smart enough to know you'd never escape me."
His eyes were a blazing, bloodthirsty red as he approached Densel.
"I knew hoping for you was a waste of time."
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