Chapter 2: The Infamous Night Terror
Thank goodness, the town gate was just ahead. Dreamer groaned and adjusted the man's weight against her. "You're lucky you weigh as much as a girl, otherwise I'd have left you out there…" she mumbled to herself.
She paused before the gate and propped the sleeping man up so that she could untie the cloth around his arm. It probably wouldn't be a good thing to walk into town carting a man with a nice big Oracion Seis tattoo on his shoulder. So, she moved the cloth up and tied it over the guild mark. She'd do her best to keep his identity a secret until the Magic Council showed up to take him away. There was no need to worry the townspeople.
She pulled him back up and finally made her way onto paved streets. The sky was turning gray with early light by the time she found the local hospital. Her eyelids were heavy with exhaustion.
At the reception desk inside, she explained that she'd found the man in the wreckage and he needed medical attention. A peppy nurse was quick to roll a bed out to lay him on, which was a huge relief for Dreamer's aching back. She followed the nurse down the hall while quietly observing the sleeping man.
"Do you have any rooms without other patients?" she asked suddenly.
"Um, yes, I suppose. Is there a specific reason we should take him—"
"It would just be better that way," Dreamer said softly. The nurse looked at her and blinked before a serene smile lit her face.
"Yes, of course. Are there any other preferences you might have, miss?"
"I need to stay with him at all times," Dreamer answered.
"Hospital policy requires that only family members remain present after hours. Are you related to this man in some way?"
"No," Dreamer said honestly, "but you can trust me. This is the way it needs to be." Her voice was soft and flowing once more. The nurse nodded absentmindedly and smiled warmly at her.
"In that case, I don't mind at all. Please, feel free to relax while we see to your friend's wounds."
Dreamer nodded in satisfaction. That would be enough coercion for now. She settled into a chair by the window and watched while hospital staff tended to the man. She asked them kindly not to remove the cloth around his arm, and they were all too willing to comply with her request. He was bandaged and given fluids, all the while never once opening his eyes.
His eyes.
She watched as his pupils darted frantically under his eyelids. The way his body tensed every so often. The occasional twitch of a finger or tremor through his spine. He was dreaming… No... He was having nightmares.
Once the nurses had left the room, Dreamer pulled her chair up to the side of the bed. She studied his mascara-lidden eyelashes and smudged lipstick. Most of all, she studied his expression of terror. He was pale, eyebrows curved upward in fear, lower lip trembling.
Unable to resist the tug of curiosity any longer, she reached out and brushed her fingertips against his temple. "What do you see, wandering mind?"
She closed her eyes and drew upon her magical energy. In an instant she was there inside of the nightmare…
Iron bars. Dark cages. Men shouting orders. Crying and screaming. Trapped. I'm trapped. Let me go, please! Let me go… Unidentifiable scraping sounds. Pain. I can't sleep. I can't break free. I'll die like this, trapped here. Trapped here forever. A child curled up on the ground with desperate red eyes, yearning for freedom. Yearning for rest. Midnight. Don't let the clock strike midnight. Looming demons with rows and rows of jagged teeth dripping blood. The child crying behind iron bars while the word repeats in his head, sharp and cold as steel that rips through any sanity and clarity he had left. Midnight. I am Midnight. I will be free. I have to be free.
Dreamer gasped and pulled her hand away. Her heart was pounding and cold beads of sweat crept down her neck. She'd seen many nightmares in her time as a mage, but very few were as consuming and vivid as what she'd just seen. It was almost enough to drag her under with it.
"Midnight…" So that was who he was. Midnight of the Oracion Seis. The infamous Night Terror—an assassin who struck only in the dead of night and never wasted his time on small targets. The strongest member of the dark guild. She'd heard only a little bit about him in her time in the guild, and none of it good.
She shook her head to rid her mind of the lingering remnants of his nightmare. When she opened her eyes again, she was struck with the icy sensation that she was being watched. Slowly, she cast her gaze back down at the face of the sleeping assassin.
He was staring right back up at her.
She inhaled sharply and instinctively jerked back. His irises were expressionless and blood red—cold and piercing. They almost didn't seem human.
"Who are you?" He never blinked.
"M-My name's Dreamer. I rescued you."
"Rescued?" He started to sit up, confusedly scanning his surroundings. With every moment awake, his body began to tremble more until he was shaking. "Where are the others? Where is my father?"
She assumed he was talking about the other members of the Oracion Seis. She shook her head. "I don't know."
"N-No!" He shook violently and clutched his head in both hands. "H-He didn't! He couldn't have! Father, did you abandon me?" He was wild and the air began to weigh heavily with magical energy.
"Midnight," Dreamer said suddenly. He shot his eyes in her direction, immediately locking onto her pink irises. "Everything will be okay," she promised, ever-so-gently.
His shaking subsided.
"There's no reason to be afraid," she cooed. "Just rest. Rest and heal and everything will be better when you wake up. I promise."
He blinked sleepily and began to relax. She kept her eyes locked on his while he laid back down and finally stopped trembling. She smiled sweetly. "See? Everything gets better, doesn't it?"
Midnight's eyes closed once more and he fell quickly back into slumber. Dreamer released a long breath and leaned back in her seat. That was too close for comfort. She yawned. She decided to take the opportunity to snatch a few hours of sleep, herself. When she woke, she would ask the hospital staff to let her contact the Magic Council. She'd turn Midnight of the Oracion Seis in, wipe the dust off her hands, and return to the guild hall with her head held high. Makarov would have to get off her back after this.
She peered at Midnight through one eye as she settled down in the chair. He was already twitching again—already caught in another bad dream.
"Poor guy," she yawned again. "I'd probably be evil too if my head was full of pictures like that every night."
She fell asleep.