The goddess hummed softly as she cooked, the warmth of the kitchen filling the cozy home. Meanwhile, the baby scampered around wildly before suddenly clinging to her leg, looking up at her expectantly.
"Oh? Did I not give you enough attention?" she asked, her voice teasing yet affectionate. She scooped him up effortlessly, and he nodded adorably, his small hands gripping her dress.
She chuckled. "Very well then, you can cook with me."
Balancing him on one arm, she guided his tiny hands to the spoon, helping him stir the pot of soup. The rich aroma filled the air as the child clumsily attempted to move the spoon, barely making a ripple in the thick broth. She smiled, steadying his hands as she continued to hum a soft tune.
Then, the doorbell rang.
Her humming ceased. Her gaze flickered toward the door, cold and calculating, before she carefully walked over, holding the baby securely in her arms. Opening it, she was met with a man she did not recognize nor would she ever remember.
"And you are?" she asked politely, though her posture remained tense.
"Ja Do!" the baby chirped happily, pointing at the man.
"Oh? So you are my child's friend, then?" she mused, smiling warmly but her eyes held the sharpness of a blade.
The man tipped his hat. Cloaked in a trench coat and formed entirely of mist, he looked like a detective pulled from a noir film, yet something about him was profoundly out of place here.
"Yes," John said smoothly. "It's nice to make your acquaintance, Mrs…" He hesitated. What exactly was he supposed to call her? Mother of Dreams? Tobi's mom?
She answered for him. "Just Mrs. Renholm," she said simply.
"Tobia Renholm!" the baby echoed happily, clapping his tiny hands.
She laughed, nuzzling her son's cheek. "That's right, Tobias Renholm." Her expression softened for only a moment before she turned her sharp gaze back to the man.
"You don't belong here," she said lightly, her voice still warm but laced with steel. "I'm glad my son has friends, but you are nothing more than a shadow from his past. I do hope you won't mind if I ask you to leave."
John chuckled. "As cute as this is, you know this isn't what your son wants, Mrs. Renholm."
Her smile didn't falter. "Oh, but you don't know what he wants, and neither does he, it seems." She let out a soft laugh before turning her attention to Tobi.
"Now, my love, run along and bring Mama something to play with, okay?"
The baby nodded happily and toddled off, oblivious to the silent battle unfolding behind him.
As soon as he was out of sight, the warmth in her expression vanished.
Her hand lifted, fingers curling into a tight fist.
John barely had time to react before he felt his form crumpling, folding in on itself like paper in a clenched grip. A normal being would have been torn apart instantly, but John only laughed.
"See, you acknowledge me, but I don't actually exist," he mused, his mist-like body twisting before reforming.
"It is. He's safe here, in this world, in my domain. My will is law wherever dreams reside." She tilted her head slightly, her voice turning almost playful. "You can stay too, if you like. Who knows? I could stuff you into a plush, then he wouldn't have to be sad when you're gone."
Reality twisted around him again, crumpling like brittle paper. Yet, John remained.
The goddess exhaled softly, lowering her hand. "I don't want to kill my son," she murmured. "But I refuse to let him suffer. This is the only alternative."
John's expression darkened. "Kill him? Why?"
"Because that god exists," she said plainly. "There isn't a single god capable of defying its will. And my son, my son made an enemy of it. If I let him go, he will only suffer."
John scoffed. "Oh, have you already forgotten? Your son denied Fate that day."
Her expression didn't change.
"That he did," she admitted. "But now is not then."
With a flick of her wrist, she moved to strike again.
John braced himself.
"Jeez, calm down. are all mothers like this?"
"When it comes to their children, yes."
"You're not even his real mother, though."
Her already cold gaze turned frigid. John smirked. good. That was exactly the reaction he wanted. This was a distraction, after all. Tobi probably would've given me that same look if I said that to him too. Like mother, like son.
She stepped forward, ready to erase him entirely, then froze.
There it was. The presence of a shadow that should have long since vanished.
Meanwhile, in another part of the dream, a baby waddled happily until it found himself in front of a cold, tall figure before him. A shadow, bound by chains wrapped tightly around its arms, its sombre eyes locked onto the child's. Slowly, it reached out, placing a hand on the boy's head.
A fragment of a future, buried and forgotten, stirred.
"I was hoping to avoid this," the shadow murmured. "But this was the promise we made long ago."