Hasb entered through the castle's large red doors, streaked with linings of silver. As soon as he stepped inside, all eyes drifted toward him. The soldier-mage members of Black In Storm were enjoying their daily feast — a massive spread provided to every squad in the deep hours of morning.
The dining hall pulsed with life — not loud, but deep, like a heartbeat buried beneath stone.
Lamps burned low along the walls, their flames swaying behind warped glass, casting crooked shadows across the floor. The ceiling arched just high enough to give the room weight, pressing down like an unseen presence. Smoke curled from a dozen hearths, thick with the scent of charred meat, spiced wine, and damp wood. The heat clung to the skin, heavy and restless.
Voices rose and fell in waves — not cheerful, but steady, tired. The clatter of plates, the scrape of cutlery, the low growl of chairs being dragged too carelessly across old flagstones. Servants moved like ghosts between tables, arms full, eyes distant. Laughter came now and then — brittle and sharp-edged, like something broken trying to remember what it used to be.
The tables were close, cluttered, every surface claimed — iron dishes, crusted mugs, grease-slick platters. Spilled drinks soaked into warped wood. Bones piled high in bowls. A thick haze hung in the air, tasting of salt, blood, and something bitter that didn't belong.
Beneath it all, something lingered — not a smell, not a sound. Just the faint pressure of being watched. Not by eyes. By the hall itself.
Some members looked at Hasb with envy, some with admiration, some with hate… and some with something harder to define. Hasb, however, was unbothered. He looked straight at his seat and walked toward it, his brown cloak billowing behind him. He sat down and sighed.
"Well well well, look who's late as always," Gloria teased.
Gloria was Hasb's squadmate and close friend. She had messy, short blonde hair. Her irises were blue, always shimmering when they caught the light. She had a slender frame, but her physical strength surpassed that of many full-grown knights.
"He was probably reading late-night porn books, Gloria. Don't tease the pup, he's in a fuming mood," James exclaimed, with a smirk on his face that pissed off his best friend even more. Gloria just rolled her eyes.
James was an average-looking guy, but his sharp jawline and styled hair made his ordinary features level up to a babe magnet. He had brown, stylized hair and cunning black eyes. His build was nothing special, but his sorcery skills were well-known across the squads.
"Shut up, mama's boy. Focus on your steak," Hasb muttered as he took the knife and started slicing the pudding.
He then dragged their chairs a bit closer to his center seat.
"Alright, listen up. There's something I need to tell you," Hasb said in a low whisper, then rambled on about his strange dream — and the unsettling "man-entity" he'd encountered in it.
James's expression darkened slightly. A void dream wasn't something common. Not even among the aristocrats who often had vivid dreams of prophecies, lost relatives... or death.
"Hey, I know. We can visit the seer — you know, the guy with the strange mustache on the outskirts of Elumiun," Gloria remarked, her eyes glinting with the mischievous spark of adventure.
"Well, we need to finish our duties first. Hasb, have you told your mom or sister about this?" James asked seriously.
He knew these dreams had haunted Hasb ever since they were kids. But now, they were getting deeper — darker — and James wanted to understand the cause before it was too late.
"Well no, Mom left early — probably will see her at dinner. Nina is in a different city. She went on a squad inspection at some crime," Hasb bellowed.
James stood up, lifting his tray of half-eaten food.
"Well then it's settled. Meet after duties."
All of them nodded and left for their respective rooms.
Hasb looked at the duty list pinned in the Inspection Room. Next to his name, his assignment for the day was written:
"Inspect goblin activity in the Northern Region along with three other selected members. Wait for them in Room No. 231."
Hands in his pockets, Hasb walked through the stone halls. The sounds of laughter and footsteps faded the farther he went. When he finally reached the room, he paused just outside the door, straightening his hair, trying to look more presentable — ready to make a decent impression on his teammates for the mission.
As soon as he entered—
BANG!
A shield flew across the room and smacked him in the face.
"Ow? What the fuck was that fo—"
A man with a dead, angry expression — much taller than him, with a hulking frame and yellowish-red skin — grabbed Hasb by the collar.
"Oi, brat. Who the fuck do you think you are, making me wait a full 10 minutes?"
The two other members, a man and a girl, sat in their chairs watching, clearly irritated with Hasb as well.
He gulped anxiously. "Uhmm… sorry?"
"Tsk," the man muttered, finally letting him go — roughly.
After a few tense minutes of forced introductions, Hasb learned their names and the nature of their task. None of them seemed particularly thrilled to be working together. Every conversation was edged with friction.
The party included:
– A mage named Jax
– The musclehead earlier, beast warrior with divine physical strength
– A healer named Yara
– And Hasb himself — a swordsman mage
Each of them clearly wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. Cooperation wasn't likely to come easy.
Shortly after, the party set out, heading toward the forest north of the capital. Their orders were simple:
Observe and record goblin activity in a commonly traveled forest.
Simple, maybe. But Hasb couldn't shake the weight in his chest.
As if the dream hadn't really ended when he woke up.