The ritual begins

Ithri blinked, his breath catching. " Huh? " 

Zahin smirked, leaning in closer. " Relax " he added with a chuckle that didn't quite reach his eyes. " I'm joking. "

"Right. Hilarious " Ithri replied, forcing a thin, sarcastic smile. "Nothing inspires trust quite like a casual death threat."

'Honestly, he didn't scare me. Alarmed, sure, but not scared. I'm always like that. Besides, what's the best way to make a friend? Let him think he's got the upper hand.'

"This is where we give you the Dreamcatcher and perform the ceremony," Zahin said, motioning toward a towering black door ahead.

Two guards stood in front of it, one man and one woman, both watching them with unnerving intensity.

"The dream blesses you," they said in unison.

"The dream blesses you," Zahin responded.

'Those two might be stronger than they look.'

Zahin reached out and took my hand with surprising gentleness, his grip firm but not forceful. Before Ithri could react, he produced a slim, needle-like device from his belt.

"This won't hurt... much," he said with a faint smirk.

Ithri narrowed his eyes but didn't resist. "You know, most people ask before stabbing someone. Just a thought."

Zahin ignored the jab, pressing the needle into Ithri's skin with clinical precision. A bead of blood emerged, caught in the hollow tip.

"Done," Zahin said, releasing Other's hand.

'Oh, I hate this man,' Ithri thought, rubbing at the faint sting. 'Who just takes blood without asking? Does he think being cryptic is charming?'

"You could try saying 'please' next time, " Ithri muttered, flexing his fingers to shake off the sensation.

Zahin smirked but said nothing, pocketing the needle like it was the most natural thing in the world.

'I didn't know what he planned to do with it, but I'd been told they needed my blood.' Ithri recall.

Zahin approached them, glanced at the guards, turned toward the door, and entered the dungeon.

Now, only Ithri and the two guards remained. He started observing them, analyzing their features.

"It seems both of them possess rings of power " he murmured, his voice barely audible.

In the depths of his thoughts, he added 'But I can see deeper than most. They're zodiac servant .'

'And what exactly is a zodiac servant, you ask? Simple. Someone who uses magic tools. Groundbreaking, I know.'

He let out a soft chuckle before continuing his musings. 'Seriously, the magic system in this world is built on thirteen core principles. Artifacts are just a direct way to tap into that power.'

"Take, for example, those power rings," he added, gesturing subtly toward their hands.

'These aren't technically artifacts, at least not entirely. They draw their power from the Rune, as a Dreamcatcher does. Both are human creations, crafted and used by Runemasters.'

'But true artifacts are far more unique.'

'You don't just make them. You find them in dungeons, and their power is instant, unchained, and untamed.'

The guards noticed Ithri's unusual behavior as he waved his hand slightly.

"Where does your hand point? At my hand?" the woman asked sharply.

Ithri glanced at the guards' hands, his gaze lingering on the intricate rings they wore. 

"Sorry," he began, tilting his head. "It's just… I'm amazed at how much power this place holds. Everyone here seems to have a ring. Even the guards of the young nobles at the university don't have this many or ones of such high rank." 

The guards exchanged a look, then the male burst out laughing. 

"Brother," the man said, grinning broadly, "don't worry. This woman loves to mess with men your age." 

The woman smacked him on the arm, her expression sharp. "We're on duty! So everyone shut up." 

The man raised his eyebrows but obeyed, falling silent with an exaggerated shrug. 

Ithri smirked. ' What a pair of lovebirds. ' 

He leaned back against the wall and asked, "So, how much longer do I have to wait here? " 

The man shrugged again, avoiding his gaze and not keen on disobeying the woman's earlier order. 

' Great. That's helpful ' Ithri thought, rolling his eyes. 

Pulling a coin from his pocket, he started flipping it idly between his fingers, the soft *clink* filling the silence as he settled in to wait. 

---

After two or three hours.

The heavy black door creaked open.

Zahin stepped out.

Ithri was sitting on the ground, flipping a coin between his fingers.

"I hope I did not keep you too long waiting," Zahin said tone carried that thin veneer of false politeness Ithri had already come to expect.

' Of course, you did, you absolute waste of space,' Ithri thought, forcing his expression into something passably calm. 'Anger issues? Me? Nah. Just a reasonable person heroically resisting the urge to strangle someone.'

This man. This man. He did the thing. He let Ithri wait.

Instead, Ithri plastered on a crooked grin, cocky and uneven. "Not at all. I was… counting the stars " he said, flicking the coin one last time before letting it disappear into his pocket.

Zahin raised an eyebrow, unimpressed but choosing not to comment. "Are you ready now?"

"Yeah, sure," Ithri said, standing and brushing the dust off his clothes. " Lead on ."

Zahin turned without another word, pushing the door open wider. Ithri followed, his stride casual but his eyes sharp, darting around to take in every detail.

The cavernous chamber swallowed them whole. Ithri hesitated, disturbed by its size. The ancient stone walls rose upward, polished by time but still bearing the jagged remnants of their history.

A massive, circular platform stood in the middle of the chamber, upon which runes of light pulsed in a steady stream. The glow was thunderous, almost hypnotic like the rhythm of a heartbeat.

In the midst of it all, an intricate pattern emerged a swirling curve of intersecting lines and symbols. It was inscribed in some way to channel forces that Ethry could barely comprehend.

"What is this place?" Ithri asked, his voice low and steady, though unease prickled at his chest.

Zahin glanced back, his faint smile sharper than it had any right to be. "This," he said, gesturing toward the platform, " is where the ritual begins. "

He stepped onto the platform, the glow of the runes intensifying under his feet. "Earlier, I didn't finish explaining," Zahin continued, his voice echoing faintly in the cavernous space. "When you wake up in a dream, you'll realize you're in control. You can shape it however you want eat what you wish, experience anything you desire…" He paused, the glint in his eye unmistakable. " Even with someone else. "

'Are you even a priest? ' Ithri thought, biting back a grimace.

"In dreams," Zahin went on, his tone more serious now, "don't bother trying to read books or solve anything too complex. That's a waste of time. But this ritual… it's different. You can focus, on one thing."

He reached into his robes and pulled out a dreamcatcher. It was intricately woven, with four stars arranged in a striking pattern one at the top, one at the bottom, and two on opposite sides.

" This shape " Zahin explained, holding the dreamcatcher up to catch the light, " is the key to unlocking the dream world. When you're inside the dream, look for this symbol. Focus on it. That's how you'll enter the shared space. "

Ithri's gaze lingered on the dreamcatcher, unease curling in his stomach. "And what if it doesn't work?" he asked, his voice low, almost challenging.

"It always works," Zahin replied with a dismissive wave. "My job is to paint the symbol in your dream. Your job is to find it. Preferably on the first try." He paused, his smirk sharpening. "If you fail, we can attempt again today ... tomorrow. But it'll cost you more."

He motioned for Ithri to follow, leading him to the center of the platform. The air seemed to hum with energy, thick and almost alive. The dreamcatcher in Zahin's hand vibrated faintly, its four-star pattern catching the dim light in an otherworldly glint.

" Hold this " Zahin said, placing the dreamcatcher in Ithri's hand. "Close your eyes. Think of the symbol. Visualize it as clearly as you can."

The weight of the dreamcatcher felt wrong, almost alive, as Ithri's fingers curled around it.

Zahin began burning something in a small bowl, the smoke curling upward in thin, ghostly tendrils. The scent was sharp and earthy, tinged with something bitter and sweet. It filled the air, heavy and intoxicating.

"Lie down in the center " Zahin instructed, his tone more commanding now.

Ithri hesitated but did as he was told, stepping onto the glowing circle and lying down on the cool stone. The symbols around him pulsed faintly, their light flickering in time with his heartbeat.

He glanced upward. The stars above were impossibly bright, their patterns strange and unfamiliar, as though he were gazing into another realm entirely.

Zahin stood over him, arms raised high the dreamcatcher in one hand, the burning bowl in the other. His voice rang out, deep and resonant:

"My lord, grant me the power to guide this dreamer!"

The air trembled with his words. The last thing Ithri saw before his eyelids grew heavy was Zahin's silhouette framed by the stars.

The scent thickened. The world blurred.

And then, darkness.

Ithri slipped into sleep, the dream already beginning to take shape.