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At first everything was hazy. Thoughts came and went without any real direction, his whole body tingling as when a limb falls asleep. Which was an odd expression, really: Limbs did not fall asleep, it was simply that the supply of blood had been-
He didn’t register the groan as his own at first. The inside of his skull felt like it was about to crack, the palms of his hands itching. Pressing his eyelids together with as much force as possible, he tried to focus on his body. Too much was going on in his head, too much nonsense. Focus now. Focus.
He could feel a wet coolness behind his back, the sound of rain cradling him like a pair of soothing arms. He always did like the rain. No, not rain, he realized, dripping. The sound of a water drop hitting a surface. He would have preferred rain. Or maybe fog. He always liked how fog had the ability to transform ordinary things, like a tree or a statue, into whatever was lurking in the pits of someone’s mind. He had a theory that you could easily learn all there really was to a person, if only you were lucky enough to be-
“Mico,” a voice uttered to the right of him, and for a brief moment he thought that he could feel heat from another body radiating against him. Just as quickly as the voice had sounded, however, the warmth faded away. He knew that voice. It was faint, hazy like everything else, but something in his chest and stomach turned in recognition. If only he could remember…
He wasn’t sure what he expected to see once he opened his eyes, but although he had not expected to see a heavy moon right above him, it somehow did not come as a surprise. Allowing himself to breathe for a few more seconds, he finally gathered the resolve to move and get up. It felt like something was weighing him down, holding him back with a sense of urgency which settled in his lower abdomen. He was scared. But scared of what? Surely this was an entirely illogical reaction to-
As soon as he managed to force himself up in a sitting position, the weight in his body faded entirely, causing him to fall forwards onto his hands and knees. Water. He was sitting in water.
No, not in water, but rather right on top of it, a gentle current moving underneath his fingertips, as if liquid and skin was separated by glass.
”How extraordinary”, he breathed, running his fingers across the surface. That explained the cool feeling and-
“Mico.” He would have found it more bearable for his pride, if the sound of the bodiless voice did not make him twitch. Raising his gaze towards the moon again, the sense of dread grabbed a hold of him once more.
The moon was turning red. It started off as just the corner, like when the sun slowly darkens during a solar eclipse, but as he looked upon it, the process seemed to speed up. It was not unlike when a drop of blood hit a vial of water or whatever liquid they were working with in class that particular week.
Rising to his feet the moon above him was now completely covered in scarlet, darkened patches moving around underneath its exterior in seemingly random shapes. The moon was bleeding. One by one little, dark drops fell from the orb, mixing in with the clear water.
Hesitantly he took a step backwards, his mind arguing with itself whether he should run or examine this strange phenomenon further. While his curiosity had served him well in his studies, he still felt uncertain as he allowed it to lead him to advance across the lake and closer to the heavenly body.
There were so many voices in his head. Of course he heard them from time to time, especially at night, but it had been months since he had last been brought to Master Willem, raving and screaming at himself. Why was he hearing them now? His mother’s voice was crying, his father screaming profanities. Was that his little sister he heard, whimpering in the background? His fellow students taunted him; the poor, sickly looking boy from the village who somehow made it into Byrgenwerth. The sound of his best friend gasping when she learned, that he had trouble reading and instead memorized everything told to him.
He had been wrong, he realized, once he found himself right underneath the moon. It wasn’t just bleeding. Sure, drops of red did spill from its round shape, but that wasn’t all: Spiders. Spiders were falling along with the blood, landing on the surface of the lake.
How curious. He remembered one time having heard about a species of spiders who apparently possessed the ability to keep themselves afloat on any water’s surface, but never before had he come across anything like this. The spiders did not seem to have wings, so how could they possibl-
“Micolash,” the voice sounded again. He didn’t feel afraid this time, quite the opposite. He knew this voice. Of course, he knew this voice. He spun around with a hopeful smile on his face, only to freeze in his tracks. Eyes. Hundreds of eyes; dark and animalistic, without any glimmer of neither humanity nor recognition. They filled his entire field of vision, making his stomach churn painfully. But that voice, it- He had been so sure that-
“Micolash,” the voice sounded again, and this time he felt warmth beginning to gather in his eyes before it ran down his cheeks. “Micolash, why did you leave me?” the voice asked, the eyes before him snapping in his direction all at once.
“NO!”
“E-Eh c-calm down, Micolash, it’s just me! It’s me!” a timid voice gasped, slim hands leaving his shoulders as if the touch had hurt.
Slowly Micolash’ vision returned to normal, the dark, wooden celling of his shared room coming into focus.
He felt dizzy as he sat up and looked at Damian, the younger student looking at him with furrowed brows. “My apologies,” Micolash mumbled weakly, running a hand through his shaggy hair, “nightmare again.” His answer seemed to make the other immediately relax, his shoulders dropping and the winkle on his forehead smoothing out.
“That’s the third time this week,” Damian sighed, a slight hint of annoyance slipping through his voice. Micolash cringed inwardly. Today was Thursday.
“I’ll go see Master Willem,” he promised, watching as the blond teen in front of him nodded and got up from the edge of his bed.
Normally he didn’t mind sharing a room with Damian. Of all the male students he could have been paired up with, he found the slightly younger boy to be quite agreeable to be around. He was quiet, understood and respected the unsaid boundaries of personal space and personal belongings, and no matter what kind of oddities Micolash brought with him into their room, the other never complained. It was a professional relationship, cold someone might say, but it suited him just fine. The same seemed to be the case for Damian, who often sat in the windowsill and allowed himself to disappear into whatever book had caught his fancy at the library that day.
However, with his recent night terrors Micolash found the other’s scrutiny and presence slowly getting on his nerves. He disliked the look of badly hidden worry he had been woken up to these past nights, and his pride still remained wounded from the incident where Damian and Ludwig had to actually drag him down the hallway and into the master’s study.
Lying awake he listened absentmindedly to the sound of the wind outside, the large tree underneath their window tapping against the wall just below it. It didn’t take long before the silence of the night was disturbed by the sound of Damian snoring. Actually, that was another thing that had been getting on Micolash’ nerves lately.
With a sigh he pushed his blankets off his body, swinging his legs down onto the floor. The cold shot up through his legs and settled in his spine. It made him shiver, but he welcomed the feeling and let it help him wake up properly. As silently as possible he lit the candle next to his bed and snuck out in the hall.
That dream again. It had been the same one all week. For anyone else it probably wouldn’t have caused any concern, but for him the whole thing was unusual. For starters he very rarely dreamed at all. Most nights it was just a comfortable nothingness that occupied his mind until morning, but this dream… It had been the same dream that he had had right before he went into frenzy that one time. He had hoped that after that incident he would be done with it for good, but alas it seemed persistent; now back again to torment him.
Idly he wandered down the stairs, his feet leading him onwards while his mind was occupied. The small flame from his candle made shadows flicker across the walls, and briefly he could have sworn that they took on the shape of spiders.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he mumbled to himself, scratching the back of his neck. He needed something to distract him, to make him calm, sleepy. Like when Laurence forced him to listen to a prolonged explanation of something asinine: What had it been the last time? Something about dressing appropriately for lectures?
At the foot of the stair he came to a halt. He could go back to the lab, continue researching the skulls from the ruins. Maybe if he tried a different detergent on the samples of hair… He could use some rubbing alcohol; the ethanol should- No, no if he got a breakthrough he would need his notes to document his discoveries and they were in his room. He supposed he could always just go back and get them, but somehow the idea of returning to his room and the sleeping Damian didn’t feel appealing.
With a sigh he sat down at the last step of the stair, looking into the small flame of his candle. It cackled slightly in the moist air of the still auditoriums. He allowed himself to be hypnotised by the flickering shades of yellow and white, his dream once again forcing its way into his mind. That voice he kept hearing, the one that called for him… It had to have been Rom. She was the one who came up with that nickname of his, “Mico”, and she was the only one to ever use it.
He felt his chest grow tighter as he tried to recall exactly what he had heard. Something about leaving her? That was absurd. She was his friend; his only friend at that, so of course he wou- at least he thought so, but how exactly could one determine such a thing? What did it even mean to be friends? Perhaps- No, he was getting off track! He wouldn’t leave her behind. But then again could he honestly say that it was impossible? One never did know what the future- no, no not Rom. She was the only one who understood. He wasn’t going to leave that behind. He…
A cold, empty feeling settled in his stomach, the empty halls bearing down at him. He wanted to go and see her. Having grown up without the company of other children except his little sister, he was somewhat used to feeling this oppressing loneliness. It hadn’t been until near the end of his first month at Byrgenwerth, once the project that they had worked on together had come to its conclusion, that Romina had bumped into him at the library and had actually begun talking to him. Without being forced to.
That moment had changed everything. She was so determined and diligent; her mind working faster than even his did at times. She was the only one who truly understood what he was getting at, even when he went on one of his, mostly, internal ramblings and only uttered a few, scattered words. And yet there she was, actively seeking out his company.
It had taken him about a year to suddenly come to the realization that, thanks to her, he did not feel lonely anymore. He had always felt awkward and unsure when put in a situation where he had to express how he felt inside: Half the time he wasn’t even sure himself, but when he was with Rom he was quite sure that he felt genuine happiness.
While lost in thought his legs had carried him all the way across the building, down to the staircase that led up to where the shared rooms that belonged to the female students were. Male students were forbidden to enter, though the rules were somewhat slacked upon as the week progressed, at least if Ludwig and his constant bragging was to be believed.
Turning to the right, Micolash left the staircase and instead made his way to a quieter part of the lecture building, coming to a halt in front of a heavy wooden door. The faint sound of humming could be heard from the other side, the clear voice just slightly off key. The tight feeling in his chest lessened immensely.
It wasn’t surprising to find Rom up and about in the middle of the night. Usually she would get so engrossed in a project that she would completely forget everything and everyone around her, thus not realizing how late it had become even as the rest of the student body disappeared.
He found her in her usual spot, sitting at a table in the very back of the library, nearly enclosed by bookcases. This was where they usually met up to go through school projects and the like, Rom claiming that this was the only place in the school where she did not feel watched. He himself never had such a feeling, and even if he had, surely it would just be Master Willem? This was a place of learning after all, so it was only natural that a teacher would examine the works of his pupils. Or maybe that wasn’t the type of watched that Rom was referring to? Was it something supernatural then? But ghosts did not exist and Rom was much too clever to believe in such ridiculo- But then again-
“Mico! You startled me.” Snapping back to reality, his dusty grey eyes were met with brilliant brown, the smile on Rom’s face making the sides of his own mouth twitch upwards. For some reason he found it difficult to not smile whenever she did. Though he supposed the other students would probably recognize it as a grimace and less than a smile. Not that it bothered him; Rom understood and that was the only thing that mattered.
The corners of his mouth were still tingling slightly as he made his way over, sitting down in one of the chairs next to her. The silence that settled between them was soothing, Micolash resting his head against the table top.
“Nightmare?” Rom asked after a while and looked up at him, finger placed as a bookmark against the page she was currently reading. He didn’t have to answer, she already knew of course. Still he found himself nodding with a sigh. Leaning back on his elbows he lazily stretched across the table, movements not unlike those of a cat in the afternoon sun, and peeked down on her work.
He noticed the small jerk of her hands as she instinctively went to hide her notes from his sight. Surprisingly though, she kept her hands were they were, despite them shaking slightly. Micolash couldn’t help but turn his gaze away from the pages and instead look at her, wondering what exactly was going through her head. He knew how competitive she was, never sharing her notes with anyone, not even him, but… But tonight she was? Despite being nervous about it? What did that mean? Did she need his help? A flutter of delight spread through his body at the thought; the favourite of Master Willem needed help!
As much as the idea stroked his ego in all the right ways, he knew that couldn’t be it. There was a reason that Rom was always top of their class, while he came in second. The first month, and arguably quite some time after as well, they had fought each other fiercely, their rivalry turning as bad as purposely trying to ruin each other’s experiments. It had all turned into fond memories for him now, one of the few things that could actually make him smile. No, as much as he hated to admit it, Rom was smarter than him. She was quicker to connect the clu- Had she always had this many freckles?
Quickly he pulled away from her again, feeling like he had just seen something that he was not supposed to. He saw the look that his friend gave him, but he ignored her completely instead standing up from his chair and intensely browsing the nearest bookshelf.
“What exactly are you working on?” he asked, wincing at the awkward question. Even though he knew very little of human interaction, something that especially Laurence constantly reminded him, it was painfully obvious how forced the question was. Not to mention that he had glanced at her notes less than a minute ago and thus should already know the answer. Oh, why was it so di-
A spider slowly made its way across some of the books, its lean body nearly invisible against the dark leather. Amelia was afraid of spiders for some reason. It was completely illogical; spiders couldn’t harm a being as large as a person. Besides, even if she was to be bitten by one of the toxic ones they kept surely they woul-
“The same assignment that I’ve been working on all week,” Rom mumbled in clear annoyance. Micolash’ shoulders were pulled up underneath his ears at their own accord. He cast a glance over his shoulder, immediately relaxing again when he saw that her frown was directed at her notes and not at him.
“The samples from Lorain,” he finished her sentence, pulling a random book from the shelf. It was a collection of old maps and drawings showing the architecture of Yharnam. It probably wouldn’t be long before Master Willem would add some new pages about the ruins they had found.
“If anyone can figure it out, it’s you,” he heard himself say, quickly placing the book back in its spot.
“Would be a lot easier if you were allowed to help me,” Romina giggled, finally closing her book and leaning back in her chair. Resting her head against the backrest, she leaned back far enough to look at him upside down. Her brown curls almost reached the floor when she sat like that.
“And neglect my own research?! What an irresponsible thing to suggest, Romina!” he gasped dramatically, trying his best to imitate the voice of Master Willem. Rom simply made a face at him and stuck out her tongue. “Besides,” he went on feeling his earlier nervousness dissipate, “you; share all the praise and glory? What kind of entity has taken over the body of my dear friend?” At this Rom’s face split in a grin, giggling as she made an inappropriate gesture towards him with her hands. Though he hadn’t seen that particular gesture before, he believed that he got the message; namely that he was the equivalent of a dirty backside. To think that Master Willem had to force them to work together in the beginning… Sure seemed ludicrous now.
“In all seriousness though,” Rom mumbled after a while, getting up from her chair and walking over to inspect the row of books next to him, “I’m not sure I-… I mean I am close, I can feel that, but somehow it’s… What if we aren’t meant to know? What if there is a reason that only the gods can comprehend these truths?”
“Surely you must be jesting?” Micolash chuckled in response. Turning back to Rom, however, his good mood faltered. She looked downtrodden. Her eyes were looking inwards and she was gnawing at her bottom lip. “Rom,” he whispered, unsure of what to do, “you cannot seriously believe that?”
When his best friend did not answer a sudden rush of warmth began to spread in his stomach. Master Willem looked to her to figure this out! How could she- To be granted such an honour and then be unsure about it? ‘Ungrateful, ungrateful, ungrateful’ an ugly voice inside of his head hissed. He felt his stomach churn, bile rising in his throat. Surely she didn’t- She couldn’t- He had to make her understand!
“This is the greatest opportunity the human species has ever been given; the chance to elevate ourselves, to uncover knowledge and ancient truths long lost. Who knows what we might find?!” In his impatience he had grabbed a hold of Rom’s shoulders, not noticing the way her face flinched as his nail dug into her skin. “We finally found the definitive proof we’ve been looking for, Rom, proof that the Great Ones really did exist and that at one point, they were living among us! If Master Willem’s theory is correct and the answer somehow lies within the concept of eyes, then what greater honour can there possibly be? We might be some of the very first to gaze upon the Great Ones since they left us hundreds of years ago.”
“I know!” Romina yelled, forcing her body away from his iron like grip. Her brown eyes were lit with fire, flickering as hypnotically as the flame of his candle had done earlier. “I know that already! Don’t treat me like an empty minded child.” The finger she stabbed against his chest felt like it was on the very verge of breaking through his skin. “If anyone is going to lead us to the Great Ones then it will be me. Do not mistake my caution for lack of resolve, I-…”
He forgot to follow along with what she was saying, instead observing her face closely. She was fire. The fingertip against his chest burned, but he couldn’t pull away from her. Didn’t want to. What was this feeling? A small frown appeared between his brows, his gaze falling on her still moving lips. They were asymmetrical. The upper lip was slim and straight while the lower was plumb and round. They looked dry. She had probably forgotten to drink anything during the time she had been studying here.
He hadn’t looked closely at her face like this, since he coincidentally had walked in on her and Damian kissing in one of the lecture halls. The memory made his chest tightening and his fingers twitch. The very core of his body felt cold, but somehow his skin and outer areas still burned as if he was having a fever. A small sound left his lips when he suddenly realized that he did, in fact, not like Damian very much. Actually, not at all. Even if it had only been a one-time thing according to Rom.
Of course he knew about the whole concept of sex, and he had seen the way Valtr and Caryll looked at each other, not to mention Ludwig flirting to the left and right, so he wasn’t blind to the fact that his school mates had a sexual aspect to their nature as well. However, for some reason he had found it difficult to accept that fact when it came to Rom.
The sight of her in the arms of Damian, had come as a complete surprise. Due to the kinship he felt with the brunette he had assumed that his own disinterest in such matters also applied to her, but of course that had been naïve. A full week went by before he could talk to her normally again.
“Mico? Micolash!” Rom clapped her hands together right in front of his face, making him jump. “If you keep shutting down like that, you’ll leave me no choice but to dissect that brain of yours,” she said dryly, hands on her hips and one eyebrow raised.
“You would miss me,” came his reply, the words forming from his lips automatically. They had been through this song and dance before.
“Yes I would,” Rom sighed deeply.
The two of them starred humourless at each other for a few seconds before matching grins spread on their faces.
“Come on,” Rom hummed, gently bumping his shoulder, “I’m tired of working.”