A/N: Hey, I know lots of people are probably waiting for me to upload the next chapter of Living Fairytales, but it is not ready yet. I am still testing the water with this story.. also uploading another story I've started a while ago. Again it is short, I know.. it's written that way in the beginning. Let me know what you think!
2. Constant, yet Unclear.
"Welcome back, well, in your dreams. Why haven't you visited? Haven't found the entrance? Or are you too scared to start looking?"
The cloaked figure is standing at the top of the hill again; their visitor is coming up behind them.
"I don't understand. Last time you told me 'the other side' the other side of where?" the visitor asks.
"The other side depends on you. It determines everything. There is no clear entrance, not just one, but many. Each person finds their own entrance, each to their own, as some would say…" the cloaked figure replies.
"How can it be determined by me? The way you speak makes it sound as if I can change the world. How is that possible?"
"It's possible because you already have. You have saved it how many times now? Each time you battle something changes. It may not be in you individually or your friends, but something changes. Someone sees something and it changes them forever. Your world is not accepting of these things, of the people who believe. Those who search for our world are all affected by yours. You save your world only to be destroying ours. It is strange that our world built upon the souls living in your world can be shifted and unbuilt by a group of seven teenagers. Seven, unique and outstanding teenagers saving one world and destroying another, another they are not aware of. This will tear you apart should it continue, and my understanding on your destiny is that it relies on you all working together. Correct?"
"Yes, but?"
"But what? But you all get on fine? Of course you do, at the moment."
"What do you mean at the moment? What's going to go wrong?"
"That… is up to you… remember… the other side…"
Again, they wake to their room, no hills or cloaked figures. Standing they approach their door, leaving a tiny mark of black ash behind them.