⊱—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⋅༻✧༺⋅—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⊰
Atlas slowly opened his eyes, greeted by the familiar sight of the night sky above his head. He was laying in the comfort of his bed, soft enough to sink into and covered by smooth silk. What he was looking at wasn’t a window, nor a look into the sky at the present. It was merely an illusion, one he embedded onto his ceiling’s sleek surface. It was a calming sight to wake up to, watching the lights and the mist swirl around, creating an ever-changing display of nature. They’d move around the canvas, travelling across until they disappeared behind its golden borders. Atlas could lose himself in it, letting it carry him away from the present and into another, temporary world.
Temporary. Very temporary. A few moments, and no longer. He raised his hand, drowsily swinging his wrist to dispell his magic. The sky faded away, leaving a blank, dark blue canvas for the next night. On his left, the golden frames of his large windows filtered in sunlight, bathing the room in a peachy tint. It was sunrise, around six to be precise, the usual time Atlas woke up. With a small smile, he sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. It was his second day back, and he was already impatient to begin the year. At last, he was back to the classes he dearly missed, getting to imerse—
His foot didn’t even make contact with the ground before a chill ran down his spine. He looked down, watching as a pool of water rose up to his ankles, soaking his foot in. Dull pain radiated across his bones, starting from his heel all the way to his skull. Atlas’ eyes widened, the feeling of dread further growing.
“No…” he muttered to himself, retreating his leg up onto the bed. “Not again—” his breath caught in his throat. The sole of his foot left no marks on the bedsheets, completely dry. A salty smell filled the air and Atlas’ chest tightened, his hands clenching around the covers.
He forced himself to take a deep breath, despite the suffocating sensation growing stronger. Turning his head up, he focused on the ceiling above, expecting to see the comforting sight of the stars — only to be met with his dimmed reflection from its dark surface, its wide eyes staring back at him.
He closed his eyes tightly, his breathing becoming heavier as he struggled to control himself. What he was seeing wasn’t real and he knew it. But somehow, that made it more terrifying. Firstly, he was sure it wasn’t a dream. It had happened enough times for him to realize that. So was he hallucinating? Was it his magic playing tricks on him? But that would imply he’d lost control of either himself or his magic, and how could he, Atlas, ever allow that to happen?
He almost wanted to call someone at that moment, to bring them in and just ask, what do you see now?
He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to know the answer.
Atlas felt the water engulfing the bed, seeping through his clothes and reaching his skin. It seemed to rise quicker and quicker, from his waist, to his knees, to his neck. He clenched his eyes tighter shut, shapes swirling in the darkness of his vision. He held his breath, the sheets wrinkling below his hands as he held on tighter. All he could do was brace himself for it.
As the water rose over his chin, his nose, eventually swallowing him whole, only one thought was going through his mind. Is this how they felt?
⊱—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⋅༻✧༺⋅—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⊰
Anyways!
Atlas got out of bed as usual, got ready for the day and more importantly, his first class of the semester. It was another year and another chance to prove himself, to rise as the top student others envied. It’s something he’d repeated to himself multiple times that morning.
He walked down the hall to the classroom with a quickened pace and a warm smile. His steps echoed against the walls, blending with the sound of chatter, and Atlas found his mind wandering to the ball the previous night. To the mysterious woman he saw, the one who disappeared before he could even confirm her identity. He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d see her again, if there was a chance she’d talk to him. It’s been a while, did she even remember him?
Then his mind trailed off to Desdemona, the one who’d healed her… The one he lied to without remorse. What was he thinking, making up an entire backstory about him and Esther!? He was facepalming internally at his drunken stupidity. What if it really was Esther and she finds out what he’d said? She’d kill him. Twice. Or maybe even more times. Though Atlas considered himself to be smart, there was no limit to his antics if left unsupervised and anonymous, such as with a mask hiding his features and the alcohol clouding his judgement.
Atlas groaned, tilting his head up in annoyance. Despite everything, a chuckle escaped his lips. These thoughts were a welcome distraction, even if for a moment.
As he continued to dwell on the events before, his surroundings blurred and he began walking almost on autopilot. He had these halls memorized even in his sleep, leaving it to his subconscious to guide him.
But something he could never learn was the pattern of students, always moving and changing. Atlas’ walk was stopped by a sudden collision, sending him stumbling back. He grabbed onto the wall, disorientated, as the halls came back into view. There was a man standing in front, seeming just as confused as Atlas was.
Quickly, he regained his friendly smile. “Oh god, I’m sorry! I wasn’t looking where I’m going.”