Dreamscape

Impossible displays of colour and starlight melded and danced in an endless expanse of thin fog in all possible and impossible directions. In this both vibrant and murky void lacking concepts of space and time, simple movement was nigh impossible. Left was inextinguishable from right, and up from down. 

It was unknown how Leo's consciousness was experiencing this, nor could he determine if it was his body present or not. Suspended in a confused daze, the tiny bubble of conscience reflected both a shining, purifying ray of seemingly tangibly yellow light piercing through the thin mist from an unknown height far in the distance and a hollow, sickly blood moon dangling ungracefully over the expanse, somehow feeling even more inexplicably distant.

The moon's dim red glow encompassed the entire expanse, painting a blood-stained iron hue to the void. Despite not truly comprehending if he was even present or not he felt a shiver flee down his spine.

The science changed. It felt as though Leo's conscience had been dragged an unknowable distance in an instant, reappearing like a bowing servant beneath the confines of a dark, Blackstone throneroom lined with statues of comically displayed warriors and scholars, with many statues being visibly tampered with. The room was dimly lit by a hanging intricate chandelier hoisting exactly 11 candles, and wall-mounted torches, 28 on the left, and 31 on the right respectively.

The atmosphere of the throneroom was dominated by the crushing weight of chaos, disorder, and unrestrained power emanating from a tall, lithe figure shrouded in shadows distorted to form a cloak. They bore a jewelless iron bloodied crown seated atop dark brown locks that draped the large iron throne.

Their eyes opened, immediately locking their gaze on the shifting collection of aetheric symbols containing Leo's consciousness. Dark grey eyes as dark as steel scrutinized Leo with an unreadable expression. The chaotic aura intensified further before the figure spoke in a deep and lofty voice,

"Exile."

Leo felt a physical tug as the mass of aetheric symbols rocketed out of the throne room.

With a desperate cough, Leo forced the salty seawater and strange weedy plant from his mouth, toppling over on his hands and knees, sinking slightly into the wet sand. 

His soaked hair stuck to his forehead, as his clothes to his body, and the cold slicing wind froze him further. Rolling over, Leo briefly checked himself, confirming not only was it his body, but he was also unharmed. Before him lay a vast fog-covered sea devoid of boats or any visible life, containing a raging storm shaking the sea causing large waves colliding with the beach.

Around and behind the beach lay a small village enclosed in a craggy cave mouth, blocking any view of what may lay outside.

The houses consisted entirely of wood, as did their few docked fishing boats and all built infrastructure. A lone, frail old woman approached slightly from where the village met the beach and spoke,

"Are ya alright there, son?" 

"I'm alright ma'am. Thank you." Leo stood and greeted the old lady, noticing her kind, though slightly manic eyes. "Could you please tell me where I am?"

"What? You don't know? Óðr, of course! Not too sure where the hell else ya'd come from."

"Neither, sorry, I'm just a little confused and wanted to make sure I was where I thought I was." Leo's face displayed a polite yet feigned smile, his nature as a disciple of deceit silently inking into the mind of the woman, gaining her swift trust.

"Oh, that's all right kid. Let's get you all warmed up, aye, you look like shit." Her gruff yet playful reply began her slow turn and trot back up the beach, as Leo followed with head on a swivel. 

In the heart of the human kingdom of Dicathen, on a busy and crowded main road of Xyrus, many locals could be seen coming and going from shops, window-shopping and occasionally conversing with other groups. Amidst the cheerful, friendly atmosphere, a man dressed in clothing far different from those around him - a pair of checkered grey suit pants, a worn brown vest covering a plain white shirt, and a decorative blanket with an indistinguishable picture fashioned as a cape and polished black leather shoes. 

The materials of his garments seemed to be made of different materials than the locals around him, many of his garments being vastly different from each other both in make and style.

His white-gloved hand brought a hot cup to his thin lips before he gently placed it down with a satisfied expression. Atop his blonde hair which was noticeably darkening at its ends sat a simple small black top hat just a couple of inches tall, and a thin gold chain suspended a golden clock pendant from his neck.

Despite his bizarre appearance, no one seemed to notice the man at all as he leisurely sipped his tea, admiring the hustle and bustle of the city. No one directed their attention to the man, as if he weren't even there in the first place. 

Setting his mug down carefully a final time on the glass table, the mysterious man stood from his seat, slowly took over his hat, held it over his chest, and bowed as if before an invisible camera. His icy-blue eyes opened for the first time, peering beyond the crowd around him, still unreactive to his performance, and he slowly turned his gaze up as he straightened his back.

"Did you really think sending that boy into that crazy bastard's treasury was a good idea? You shouldn't leave your unique prodigies lying around, you know. They can be tracked." 

Through the crowd, on the far side of the town square, an indistinguishable figure cloaked entirely in a white robe stared back at the man with the top hat as he occasionally popped in and out of sight with the travelling locals. The two held each other's gaze for a moment, and despite being covered entirely in robes, they knew the man ahead of them was sure of their identity.

With a final, friendly, knowing smile, the man vanished as a group of adventurers walked in front of him, leaving nothing but a barely noticeable thin fog that quickly dissipated in the wind.

Without a word, the figure in white took a few steps back into the darkness of an alley before they too vanished.