I… I had a dream

A dream of an outflowing tide of black and blue hues,

A dream of a butterfly that glowed gold…. No, sapphire. It glew sapphire… no, it glew… gold?

It kept alternating between those two colours so much I didn't know which colour it wanted to settle on. All I know for sure is that the butterfly would fly on and on and on… through frames and clocks and gears and…

… and into a giant chessboard, floating on top of a vast dark space sprinkled with gleaming stars.

Marble pillars surrounded the middle in place of chess pieces, and I remember a single spotlight illuminating the centre of the field, a man that looked so familiar to me despite the fact that it was the very first time I was meeting him.

A man with a white mask, with patterns on the right side of his face that resembled a wing of a blue butterfly.

The man bowed as my journey with the butterfly ended, and I could feel a smile crawl across my face in warmth as my dream seemed to have recognised him.

"Welcome." I heard his voice boom into the darkness, to only be promptly echoed back into the back of my head. "It's a pleasure to meet you again."

I was sure then that we had met once, but I did not know when and where.

"I am Philemon. Dweller between consciousness, and unconsciousness.

And now, a simple test. Can you state your name?"

As if on cue, as if his words were a trigger.

A river of memories started behind me and continued on past me.

Memories of when I was once young, and old, then young again, and a glimpse of me dying young.

Too quick, too small of a fragment for me to linger onto. And before I knew it the memories of what once was, were no longer within my mind. No matter how much I tried to bring them back up, what was truly gone was gone.

I tried to reach out and grasp onto one of them. Any of them, for me to present to this man.

So many names that I had once used, so many names that I left behind to start anew.

Which of these names were the ones I would use for him, for me of the present?

I felt the end of the river, and I grasped it with all my strength. This fragment was my last chance, all or nothing. If this one escapes my fingers, I knew for sure that I would be left with no names to use to continue on.

I grasped it, I could feel it slowly try to escape my grip, so in turn I held onto it even tighter.

I felt that fragment rip out from the rest of the river of memories. As the river continued on, the single fragment that it left behind seared into my flesh, soul and mind.

"It's Nero…" I blurted out. "Nero… My name… My name is Nero, Nero Nox…"

The white mask hid the man's expression, but the gentle nod he showed me in turn told me that he responded to my attempt to remember my name as nothing but positivity.

"Splendid. When in this domain, there aren't many who can remember their identity. It seems you passed that test.

But tell me this:" Philemon pointed at me, stance shifting from an arms-crossed gentle neutrality to a striking accusatory aggression. "Are you aware of the many and varied selves you harbour… within you? The various ideas that had decided to manifest in your head, maintaining your willpower?

The self who is suffused with divine love…

The self who is capable of demonic cruelty…

People wear different masks to live their lives and face their challenges head-on. To… protect their mind within them, as they talk to each other. An armour, to protect themselves, and to differentiate their identity from the world. To know that they are them, and the world is the world.

You, however. Seems to have managed to gain a firm grip on their own identity. I respect your strong will. In return, I grant this power once again:"

Figure, made of light, appeared in the palm of Philemon's open right hand. Too bright for me to see its details, yet it held back the light within just enough for me to make out its silhouette

"Eikons. The power to summon beings constructed and born from the collection of your mind and heart, psychic constructs that protect you in the images of gods and demons. You needed this once, long before the world became a remnant of its former self and your people within it became nothing more than a legacy for the newer generation of humanity to carry on.

Soon, you may need this again."

I wanted to ask him. Need this for what? When had I needed this before?

However curiosity was overwhelmed with a sense of responsibility and weight instead.

Questions drowned out by a simple nod towards Philemon, as if my heart knew what to do, and my brain's job was to simply follow where my heart guided me.

"Now, you must return. To your proper time… and place. And remember: Idea is the drive of mankind. They will form as an Eikon to become your drive. "

I felt a tug at the back of my collar, the distance between me and Philemon widening.

Darkness that surrounded this little platform slowly consumed by white as I felt myself leave this place the same route that I had entered.

And then… and then…

And then I was back in my bed, the tiny opening between my curtains showing the cold morning of Atlas Kingdom.

What was something of a hurdle was now such an easy task.

Nero Nox. My name was Nero Nox. Of the Nox Steelworks Industry.

My grandfather was the founder of the company, and the only surviving relative to me.

It was such a strange feeling, to convince yourself in a dream that you knew none of these.

…

I saw the red and black gloves trailing behind the path that my arms took as I pulled the blanket off my body.

... Maybe my dream wasn't so strange when compared to a sight like this.