That night, Ceremus had another dream, but unlike the others he had seen, this was different.
It started off with him being alone but instead of being by a field in the outskirts of the city, by the coast, and in the desert, he looked to be in a village, remote yet flooded with people passing him by, but there was something wrong.
Their faces were missing.
No eyes. No mouths. Just smooth, empty skin.
When he tried to approach them, they all disregarded him and Ceremus surmised they couldn't see him.
Just as he gave up on seeking help, a strange sensation crept over him. A gaze.
Someone was watching him.
Ceremus turned. In a sea of faceless figures, one man had a face. The young man was short, dark-haired, and watching him with unsettling intensity, as if analyzing him. His eyes—felt inhuman —holding a strange, shifting glow, as if reflecting light that wasn't there.
The stranger said nothing. He only observed.
Ceremus stepped forward.
The man turned and walked away.
A flicker of alarm rushed through him. He called out—but received no answer. So he followed.
The man strolled out of the marketplace and seemed to make his way outside of the village, where there were scarce people. Despite not knowing who the man was, Ceremus felt like following him, anyway.
The faceless villagers blurred as he passed them, their forms warping, fading. The streets twisted in ways that made no sense, and suddenly, they were no longer in the village. The scent of earth and pine replaced the dry air, and before them stood a medium-sized cabin.
The mysterious man stopped at his door and swiveled to peer behind him, but didn't appear the least bit surprised when he saw Ceremus standing there.
He turned back around and opened the door before calling behind him, "You ought to come in instead of standing there."
The king's eyes grew wide. "You can see me?"
"Of course I can. I'm not blind." He said.
Ceremus frowned. "But everyone else…"
"This is merely a dream, a projection that's being shown to you. No one in here is real, just like you aren't real to them. Now step inside."
Ceremus shifted his feet on the ground, his body tense and on high alert before walking inside the home. The cabin was much nicer than it looked on the outside. It was cozy and inviting, with a stone fireplace as the centrepiece of the main room. There were few comfortable, moderately worn furnishings, giving it a sense of peace and tranquility, away from the outside world.
He watched as the man lit up the fireplace before beckoning for him to take a seat, which he did.
"So?" He asked as he fixed his eyes on Ceremus intently. "Do you know why you're here?" He asked.
The king blinked, hesitant about how to respond. He, too, was curious about the same thing. Why was he in this village, and why had he followed this stranger to his home? It was odd, but Ceremus was certain of one thing. He would find what he was looking for if he talked to this man.
"I believe I'm here because of you." He replied, his gaze meeting the man.
A glint flashed across the stranger's features, and Ceremus could detect a slight smile on his lips, but he disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared.
"So you seek something. What is it you desire?"
Ceremus stilled as he contemplated on whether he should confide in this person. He wasn't one who enjoyed receiving help from others, but when presented with a situation that was beyond his control, he had no choice but to swallow his pride.
"…There is an individual I wish to save. He hasn't regained consciousness in almost two months, and I worry he may never do so. I was hoping to find something…anything that could aid in his healing…bring him back."
"Bring him back, you say? Has he already left the world of the living? Because if that's the case—"
"No, he hasn't!!" Ceremus interrupted him, refusing to hear the rest of his words.
The fellow was still for a moment, and it dawned on Ceremus that he might've responded too strongly.
"I apologize for my outburst, it was uncalled for…" He said.
The stranger narrowed his eyes before shaking his head. "It's fine. I'm sure the predicament you are in has caused you to grow uneasy.
Ceremus nodded.
"So he's in the void."
Ceremus' pulse quickened. "The void?"
The stranger nodded. "The place between life and death. Neither here nor there. Not truly lost, not truly found." He said as he leaned into his chair, his eyes shifting subtly. "Because he hasn't yet crossed the threshold, his salvation is possible. "
Ceremus looked up in surprise. He wasn't expecting to get a response from the man, let alone a positive one. Was there truly a way to save Hael? Uncertainty and apprehension crept into his mind. Everything seemed almost too good to be true, and he wasn't sure if he should believe the words of a stranger.
As if sensing his state of mind, a smile graced the man's lips. "My name is Nicaphorus and I believe I can be of help, but to receive my answers, you must pay me with something just as valuable." He said. "Nothing is free in this world after all."
The king expected such an answer, and was willing to compromise with the stranger if it meant getting what he wanted.
"What is it you want?" Ceremus asked with no hesitation. "I am willing to give you anything if it means getting my guard to wake up!" He said.
Nicaphorus cocked his head. "You would go that far for a guard?"
"He isn't just a guard to me," he said, his voice softening, "anyway, I'm prepared to pay you in gold if that is what you desire."
A gleeful glint appeared in his eyes. "Alright then. I shall concede. However, gold is not what I desire. Your settlement shall be paid in due time."
Ceremus' brows raised in confusion but before he could say anything else, Nicaphorus reached into the flames, but the fire did not burn him.
When he withdrew his hand, a single green blade of grass rested between his fingers.
"What you need is a plant. This plant can bring people back from the void."
Ceremus' eyes went wide from shock, as he saw smooth and uncharred skin holding onto the blade of grass like nothing out of the unordinary had occurred. He had to blink a couple times in order to process what was happening. It was only when he had recovered from his previous shock that he nodded his head in understanding, locking onto his words.
"This plant isn't easy to come by since it doesn't grow in populated regions." The stranger said as the blade of grass disappeared from his hand.
"What is the name of the plant, and where can I find it?" He asked, keeping his voice measured.
"You seek the Gramen Vivificat, said to reside in the Scilopian rivers. It will be a long and arduous journey to obtain such a rare plant. But if you locate the man who occupies those lands, then he shall be your guide."
He then stood up, rearranging the pieces of wood while adding more to grow the fire. "It is only when you find him you can get the plant and save your guard."
"Who is this man? What is his name?" Ceremus inquired.
The man was silent as he stood by the fire, embracing its gentle heat. His eyelids fell, and he felt himself drifting to sleep. It seems I'm running out of time; he thought to himself.
Morpheus had to resist the urge to doze off, and opened his eyes. He turned to look at Ceremus, his gaze a little unfocused.
"Haven't you already met the one with the answer?" He asked.
The king's brows furrowed. "Who?" He tried ransacking his brain, thinking back to a blind man he had recently encountered. His eyes suddenly expanded as a knowing look took over his face.
"I see you've found your answer." Nicaphorus smiled lazily. He then looked to the side, his grin disappearing.
"Well, young man, it looks like you'll have to head back. It is getting late, after all."
Ceremus glanced out at the sky and saw how dark it had gotten. When he had reached the cabin, it was still light out. When did it get so late? But wait? This was a dream, so time worked differently.
Morpheus momentarily forgot his fatigue at the sight of Ceremus' puzzled expression.
Creating this dream was quite easy for the god to do since they were all put together through his thoughts. He could conjure up elaborate dimensions, scenarios, or meaningful visions. Morpheus had an enormous influence in the dreams of mortals, either by guiding them to profound insights or leading them astray into confusion or fear.
To each mortal, he might look different, embodying their fears, desires, and struggles and, in Ceremus' case, the person he most desired to see was Tiresias even if he wasn't aware of it.
Though he had taken on Tiresias' appearance and some of his personality, there were still trances of himself in the older man. But it didn't matter too much, considering how similar they were in nature. Both were elusive people with an almost detached personality.
"I guess I should get going?" Ceremus said, but he still sounded doubtful.
Nicaphorus nodded. "But before I go, where will I be able to find this Tiresias fellow?" He asked.
Morpheus paused when he heard this. He wasn't sure if he could divulge this information since his father hadn't given him explicit instructions. Perhaps it would be wise to let Ceremus figure things out for himself, but he knew it would take him some time to find Tiresias, since his whereabouts were unpredictable, just like his personality. He gazed at Ceremus, who looked at him with anticipation and sighed.
Well, I don't mind telling him; I guess. He's an interesting fellow and I quite like him. Plus, this will be my way of getting even with father for waking me, he mused to himself.