Robert still felt the screaming of the crowd in his mind, every nerve vibrating with the excitement from it. Their tour had finally concluded following a month of going from city to city, venue to venue. Now he could finally crawl back into his studio and start recording whatever once he got home. It felt as if the moment he and Tristan left the stage to the ride back to the hotel, a crash hit him and all the adrenaline exited him.
He barely remembered the trip back to the hotel room. Tristan was down at the bar in the lobby. His best friend and other half of their music duo always had more energy than him.
A quick shower gave him solace from the external world in both body and mind. Once he got out of the shower and dried himself off, he flopped down into bed, exhausted. It didn't take long for sleep to take over.
When he opened his eyes, he was in a room of art nouveau style, not like his hotel room or his flat or even his own studio. It was too ornate for his tastes; he preferred a more quiet atmosphere.
He heard a door opening to his right. He turned and saw a scrawny young man who couldn't have been older than his late teens. The young man, who wore a tunic and a torc, carried a tray with a drinking glass, a pitcher, and a plate of food. He walked over to the table adjacent to Robert and placed the tray down, not making any eye contact.
“Thank you.” Robert said. The boy lifted his head towards Robert, as if he had never been thanked, then turned to leave the room. “Wait.” Robert reached his hand towards the boy. The boy stopped and turned to look at Robert.
“Yes, master?” The boy asked. Robert was taken aback by that word and looked behind himself, finding no one was there. Why did he call me that?
“You don't need to call me that."
The boy lowered his head. "As you wish, master."
"No, just call me…" Robert paused. His name in this place already appeared in his mind. "Rosanel." That name felt correct.
"Yes, ma-I mean Rosanel."
"If you want to stay here and talk to me, go ahead," Robert said. He walked over to the table and sat down on the chair next to the tray. He looked at the food, consisting of slices of meat, fruits and some kind of bread he didn't recognize. "Oh, and what's your name?"
"Vaelar," was the answer. "and thank you, Rosanel, for your kind suggestion." Vaelar then sat down on the chair opposite to his master's. Robert picked up one of the utensils and began to eat. He didn't feel hungry, but the need for nourishment was there. As he had his meal, he pondered what sort of situation he was in.
There were things going on in his mind that he had intuitively known about. He knew his own name as well as the name of some people in this world. Yet, it was information that he should know of that only manifested like a blank space in his mind.
After swallowing a grape, he looked at Vaelar. He noticed that the young man was sitting on the edge of his seat and barely moved at all.
"I'm honestly not hungry. Eat the rest if you so desire." Robert pushed the tray towards Vaelar, who beamed with surprise at the offer.
"Thank you, Rosanel." He said. Robert sat up with the growing desire to find out more about what was going on. He made his way to the door and exited the room.
The hallway shared the decorative style that matched the room behind them, but quiet and empty. He set off down the hallway at a brisk pace.
Upon reaching a door at the end of the hallway, he opened it to discover a lounge room decorated elaborately with fine furniture and decorations. There was a woman sitting on one of the sofas.
"Where is that new slave?" She asked him. Robert was confused as to what she was talking about.
"New slave? You mean Vaelar?"
"Yes. That boy should be back here by now. We purchased him a week ago and now he's already causing trouble. I should have given him to the lower temples."
"He's not—"
BEEP BEEP BEEP
Robert's dream came to an end with the sound of an alarm clock. He jolted awake, then reached for the nightstand and turned the clock off, then sat up.
A strange dream.
The first glimmer of dawn was rising in the cracks behind the curtain of the room. He had several hours until he had to get to the airport.
He reached for his phone and opened the notes application and began to jot down everything he remembered from the dream.
After a flight across the pond to London, Robert and Tristan finally returned home. It was night by the time the flight landed, but both were eager to be back. After they left the airport, they exchanged goodbyes before returning to their respective flats.
Going to the studio would be a priority tomorrow. The only thing that was on his mind now was getting his belongings back into place and then going to bed. He was tired as shit, so he just stuffed his clothing into their respective drawers and his hygiene pack into a cabinet. After that, he showered off that feeling of grime from the airport, then flopped down into his bed. Sleep took him almost instantly.
He found himself seated in the spectator area of a stadium. Beside him were several people he knew of in this world, mostly family, but also a few friends. He looked upon the center of the stadium. Two figures approached each other; one was heavily armored and held a shortsword, while the other was lightly armored and wielding a spear
"Welcome to the first match of the annual summer solstice arena games! Two enter this round! One leaves! Who will win!" The announcer yelled.
Robert hated sports and was not sure why he was here. Any contemplation he would have done was cut short the two figures began to fight and the announcer began yelling again.
"Castanera begins with a swing… and a miss! How will- Oh, she just tackled Orion!" The spear-wielding Orion fell backwards, but rolled out of the way before his opponent could get him, and stood back up. He stepped back and went into a stance to prepare an attack.
The two fighters in the arena moved about and circled each other until Orion thrust his spear forward at a gap in the armor of his opponent. Castanera, faster than she looked, stepped back from the jab by a narrow margin.
Robert couldn't remember what happened in between, nor what the announcer was saying. The blank space cleared up when all of a sudden, Orion was disarmed. Before he could reach to grab his spear, Castanera tackled him to the ground again and held her entire weight against him. She raised her sword and the crowd gasped.
"Wait." Robert sat up and reached his arms out to the duo in the arena. He closed his fists and made a light tugging notion with a sensation that felt like he was grabbing at spaghetti. Castanera stopped her movements. Robert knew it wasn't of her own volition. He was doing magic that he had intuitively knew how to do.
"Rosanel, what are you doing?" His sister shouted in alarm. Robert released control of Castanera and she did not hesitate, her blade flashed as she sliced the throat of Orion with a precise cut.
The crowd erupted as blood pooled out into the sand of the arena. Robert looked at his sister yet everything around him wavered. His sights bled into one another and the roar of the crowd faded into nothing. His world then collapsed in a swirl.
When his surroundings came to him again, he found himself back at the home in which he met Vaelar for the first time. His sister stood in front of him.
"Rosanel," His sister said. "Why did you stop that contestant?" Robert paused for a while.
"I don't want to talk about it." He said, then turned around and walked away at a brisk pace, retiring to his quarters.
Robert swung the door to his room open. Vaelar was there, arranging objects decorated around the room as Robert walked inside and slumped down onto his bed.
"If you want to say something, say it now. I'm not going to hurt you." Robert told Vaelar.
"You're not normally like this," Vaelar said. "The Rosanel I know doesn't even speak to me at all beyond giving orders."
Robert stared up at the ceiling and thought for some time. He has acknowledged in the past that he is indeed rather aloof and could come off as standoffish.
"Vaelar, I need to tell you something. Don't tell this to anyone else. Do you understand?"
"I do, Rosanel."
"I'm not actually Rosanel. Not here, at least. My real name is Robert. I'm not from this world. I don't even know why I'm here. Someone got killed at a game earlier. Fuck. I don't know what to do." Robert let out everything he was thinking about. Vaelar went over to the bed and sat down on the side of it.
"I'm so sorry. Should I get someone else to help you?" Vaelar asked.
"No. Don't bother with that. I just needed to confess." Robert felt exhausted. Swirls began to form in the peripheral of his vision. He sat upright and looked at Vaelar, but the figure that was once him began to blur. Robert's vision became clouded the more he stared at the increasingly blank space, before everything dissipated in a white flash.
Robert woke up again, this time in a sweat. He realized that the dream bore heavy resemblance to the one he had after the final show of the tour. The same setting and people were all there.
Was that just a coincidence? It was the first dream he remembered since then, and it lingered in his mind. Nevertheless, it was over, and it was daytime now.
Rosanel hummed to a melody that he had heard in the dream last night as he wrote down on the notes in his journal. His enjoyment of music was a pastime for him, though his duties would never permit a full-fledged career.
His dreams were in some other world. Little amounts of magic, as nearly all of it was hidden from the common population, of whom he was part of, and his name was Robert in this world. He was a full-fledged musician rather than a nobleman, traveling the world from time to time, released music, and so on. The intuition in his dreams did not carry over on to real life.
Yet, it all felt wrong. Shallow. Weak. Purposeless. It didn't feel right. He had prestige and respect, but it was not the same.
One time is an isolated incident. Second time is a coincidence. Third time is a pattern. This time, Robert was aware that he was dreaming, although he could not control the narrative like a lucid dreamer. He did have a better knowledge of how the world worked, filling in much of the gaps from his previous two dreams.
A picture formed in his mind of the world in this dream. He could not discern if this was an alternate timeline, another universe, or even his own mind deceiving him into what could have been. The year was the same as the one in the waking world and the technology was the same, but the timeline was drastically different.
A lot of bad shit had happened. There was the Daevite Empire who controlled huge sections of the world. All of Europe, North America, North Africa, and much of of Asia were under their control. They even stretched into into South America, southern Africa and Australia as well. They warred with just about every human culture there was, and enslaved large portions of populations that they conquered. Some were lucky to stay autonomous, but most who weren't enslaved were relegated to second-class citizens. There were other practices that he saw as horrendous that were acceptable in the Empire.
There wasn't a veil that separated the mundane from the supernatural, so magic was normal and sometimes incorporated into technology. His life as Rosanel was of the noble Karos family in the Empire. The woman he recognized as his sister looked just like his sister in reality. So much had happened that he wasn't able to memorize it all.
Rosanel was raised believing in what Robert thought was wrong, but he was a cog in his world, and Robert couldn't help but feel bad for him. His sister was also different in the same way that Rosanel was different from Robert. Everything in the world felt so familiar, and yet so off.
This world was entirely a different life of his. A "what if" situation that broke through the seams of reality and ended up in his dreamscape. It lingered in his mind, then shifted into another consideration. Although Rosanel was just one person, Robert wondered if he could influence who the man in the dreamscape could become. A possibly of change from a single spark of influence. That spark being himself.
A loud slamming sound jumped Robert out of his musings. His body felt like it heated up as he flinched at the direction the sound came from.
The room was very plain and contrasted heavily with the garnished halls of the Karos manor. On the opposite end of the room was a man who looked like Robert from the waking world, but the real Robert knew that man was actually the real Rosanel.
Robert, as Rosanel approached Rosanel as Robert, as did the latter.
"You there. I'm sure you understand what you're dealing with?" Robert asked.
"I know your world. I could care less about it." Rosanel said. Robert's eyes narrowed in frustration.
"All these horrible things in your world, and you don't say anything? What is wrong with you? What is wrong with your world?"
"My world is fine. You live in a world that lacks purpose."
"I suppose that's true. Systems are broken, the people in power don't care about the common people. Yet people choose to care about one another. Do you consider the same?"
Rosanel didn't say anything after that. His body tensed up and stopped any movement, then sunk to his knees and lowered his head. As he was contemplating, the world around them began to shake with tremors that were mild but noticeable for both of them. Robert reached his hand out to the other man.
"I don't understand your mindset. I could go a million miles and still not understand. But you still have a choice. Just for once. Please." Robert's tone became desperate. His hand still reached out to Rosanel. The tremors increased while cracks in the floors and room began to appear.
Rosanel suddenly grabbed onto Robert's hand, hoisting himself off of the floor and standing up once again.
"I'll try." Rosanel declared, a semblance of confidence in his voice. The two men were in unison in that moment. Robert was Rosanel and Rosanel was Robert. One and the same, but of two different worlds. The tremors stopped as did all noise. A flash of bright light emanated in both of the men's visions as their worlds were blown apart from a silent explosion.
Once more, Robert woke up from his dream in a sweat. A feeling in his mind lingered as if something significant was taken from him.
Perhaps he'll write a song inspired by the dreams he once had and now mourned. His only hope was that if Rosanel was truly real, he could become a better person.