5 The Dreaming

The dreamy lady bowed. "I apologize for interrupting your revive, my lord, but the Lord of Death is here, at the gate of horn."

Hypnos fixed his gaze on the woman. She was Alexandria, one of the dreams—a species he created alongside nightmares to populate his realm and assist him with his duties. He had appointed Alexandria as librarian in charge of the Great Library in his castle in the heart of dreaming.

The Great Library was one of his important side projects. He built it to record the dreams of everyone, except the Primordials, throughout their lives, down to the smallest of details. Everyone's deepest secrets, desires, and fears will all be written down in the books dedicated to them.

It would include all the books that were never written, all the ideas that were never voiced, all the inspirations that were never spoken, and all the stories that were never told.

Altogether, the existence of the Great Library amounted to a violation of privacy on a scale never before seen in the history of civilization. His actions would have horrified his previous human self. His current primordial self, though, had a slight hesitation at the beginning of this project, but it was beginning to fade with the passage of time.

It had been 18 years since he was reborn into this wonderful world, and he could clearly feel his humanity ebb away in the rushing currents of time. When he gazed at the mortal world and human civilization, the familiarity and belonging he had assumed didn't arise in his heart; rather, indifference and apathy inundated his heart and mind.

Did he hate the change that was taking place within him? Some part of his mind was thinking at the time, and the answer came to him right away.

He didn't hate it. He even expected it. After all, he was eternal, and the connection he felt with humanity would have faded with the passage of millennia.

Hypnos sighed inwardly, putting a stop to his racing thoughts and focusing on the situation at hand. "Take him through the Dreaming, and then bring him to my palace." his lips were suffused with an involuntary smile.

"Yes, milord." Alexandria unequivocally accepted his order and teleported in a whirlwind of glittering golden sand.

Hypnos turned to look at the golden ocean one last time before lifting his leg. While he was fixated on the spot, the surrounding space immediately stretched and zapped behind him. In the next second, he took a single step from the golden beach to the heart of dreaming, planting his foot firmly on the stony ground of a massive bridge.

And in front of him, a magnificent white castle arose, surrounded by a vast lake and lush hills that seemed to stretch into the horizon. In every sense of the word and perception, the white castle was perfect. It had tall towers made of marble that never existed, as well as large golden spires that held the esoteric symbols and letters from a language that was never invented. Every stone in the castle was even and square, as if its creator were obsessed with perfection and genuinely cared about what they created.

The gate was a forty-meter-tall black door engraved with esoteric symbols and images that weaved together to form the divine trees of the creation—the Tree of Life and the Tree of Knowledge—and exuded a sacred and hallowed aura. It was also guarded by two colossal statues of knights wielding swords and spears.

The entrance of the castle was connected to a long stony bridge, which was supported by towering human hands that arose from the serene lake underneath it.

This was his new home. Hypnos regarded his creations with emotion. He carved it all, down to the smallest detail. And there is still much to be done before it can be perfected and opened to the rest of the world.

He began striding to the entrance of his castle, and two colossal knight statues bowed to him, prompting him to nod in response.

Hypnos stood in front of the white door, placed his hand on the section of the murals where the trunks of two divine trees crossed, and pushed it.

Creak!

The murals of the divine trees glistened as the colossal door creaked open, revealing a long and dim corridor.

Hypnos turned and gazed at the Dreaming, then strode into the magnificent castle.

The door closed itself with a rumble upon his entrance.

——————

The throne room was illuminated by the dim light of the sky gushing through the stained glass of the long windows. Above it all, a magnificent dome sprang up, adorned with images of swirling galaxies and swaying nebulae. A ray of light slanted into the room, bathing Hypnos.

In one hand, the Primordial of Sleep held a thick book; in the other, a golden pen. Using the book as a medium, he was etching the laws and regulations of his realm into the fabric of existence. He was also assigning jobs and duties to the dreams and nightmares he created, as well as their role and purpose in dreaming. He cannot afford even the smallest error or oversight in this, as it was absolutely critical to the operation of his realm.

Hypnos also focused some of his attention on his brother, who was being guided around his realm by Alexandria.

Unlike him, Thanatos wanted his realm to be simple but effective, so he finished the creation of his realm at the beginning of this year and rightfully claimed his position as the Primordial of Death.

With the opening of his realm, Tenebrous, Thanatos assumed his role as the universal psychopomp — the guider of all souls.

Immediately, Hypnos made time to visit Tenebrous, but his brother had the audacity to send one of his servants to show him around his realm since he was busy with his duties.

Anyway, during that tour, Hypnos learned a lot about his brother's duties. It was Thanatos' responsibility to guide the mortal souls to his realm. He divided mortal souls into three groups: believers, false, and faithless.

The believers—the vast majority of mortal beings—had dedicated their lives to their patron deity. And they will be escorted to the underworld of the Pantheon their patron god belonged to by a divine representatives. However, if the soul was not very faithful, it could take centuries for the representative to arrive. Some souls could even fade out of existence if a representative never arrived.

The false—the false were those souls who had failed to serve their chosen patrons or had betrayed their prior faith commitments. Thanatos judged such souls and assigned them a task in his realm for the rest of their lives, such as guiding lost souls. The most wicked and unfaithful of the false would be sent to the infernal realm within Tenebrous to face punishment.

The faithless—the faithless were souls who had never chosen a patron deity or had never believed in the gods at all. As such, they would never have a representative sent to retrieve them. Instead, Thanatos will judge them all. They will be judged based on their actions during their mortal lives. The damned will be sent to the infernal realm. Those who did not perform enough good or bad in their lives would wind up in fields of endless night, where they would find eternal peace. The souls of heroes and virtuous would given the privilege of choice to either enter the paradise or reincarnate into mortal world.

As much as Hypnos hated admitting it, Thanatos really had done an excellent job with his realm. He effortlessly dodged any diplomatic problems with other underworlds and was well on his path to becoming the Death of the Cosmos.....

Hypnos returned his focus on the book, continuing with his work. He was so engrossed in it that he lost track of time until Alexandria opened the door.

Thanatos strode into the throne room, appearing between the openings of the door.

Despite being twins, Hypnos and Thanatos looked nothing alike aside from their pale complexions. The Lord of Death was lean and muscular, with a regal face, molten gold eyes, and short silver hair. He was dressed in deep black robes with golden threads embroidered on the edges. He was hooded, welding a dark scythe with a silver-golden handle that further dimmed the light in the large room.

(Image here)

Alexandria bowed to Hypnos and quickly closed the door as the throne room went silent.

Thanatos fixed his gaze on Hypnos, who sat cross-legged on the opulent silver throne supported by a massive platform descended by two curving staircases. His brother appeared to be engrossed in writing in a gleaming golden book, paying no attention to him. "Do you really have to get back at me like that?" he asked, pointing back at the door.

"Brother," Hypnos finally said, condescendingly looking down at Thanatos. "You aren't the only one who has responsibilities."

"Hypnos." Thanatos said, his dark brows furrowed in solemnity. "I am here on important matters. Can we please stop being petty to each other?"

"No," Hypnos said, placing his book on the armrest. Then he raised his hands, and a long silver sword emerged from them, gleaming in the argent light of the moon. "Certainly not. Remember, there are still a lot of scores to settle."

"Hypnos—" Thanatos glared.

"Oh, brother, please." Hypnos smirked as he rose from his throne, his silver sword pointing at Thanatos. "Drop this charade. It doesn't suit you at all."

Thanatos sighed exasperatedly, but his other hand, which was holding the dark scythe, tightened, telling a completely different story, and soon his pale lips rose into a slight grin. "Come on then—" he was abruptly cut off by Hypnos, leaving him no room or time to prepare.

A resounding shattering shook the throne room as Hypnos struck first, his figure descending from the platform with such speed that he was only a blur the moment he appeared in the air above Thanatos and thrust his sword right at his brother's skull in one swift blow.

Facing the mighty strike, Thanatos narrowed his surging golden eyes, and he brought his scythe up, matching the speed of Hypnos, so that the silvery handle is up high, providing a protective roof above him.

Clang!

Finally, the blade collided with the handle in mid-air, creating sparks as bright as the stars in the night sky. An apocalyptic force erupted from their clash, threatening to tear apart everything in its path, but Hypnos immediately erased it.

Finally, Hypnos' blow bounced off the roof like rain, and Thanatos side-stepped to allow him to pass, then snapped his scythe down toward his unprotected shoulder. But, just in time, Hypnos moved quickly in mid-air, and Thanatos' timing was off. The blade of his dark scythe cut the mere air, producing a screeching swish.

Immediately, Hypnos and Thanatos wheeled back to face each other, finally taking the proper battle stance.

"I see," Thanatos said, his dark eyes gleaming. "You are still as vicious and flouting as ever."

"I am not Death." Hypnos smiled gleefully. "I know no fairness."

Thanatos snorted and charged, slashing at his face as he closed the distance between them.

And so they clashed in the heart of the Dreaming. Their speed had increased to the point where they appeared to have completed vanished, but the occasional flashes of silvery and inky light revealed otherwise. 

There was no primal power in any of their moments. It was a battle of pure physical might. And that went on for what seemed like an eternity. Back and forth across the throne room and round and round in spirals, Hypnos and Thanatos fought, their silent yet lethal blows always aimed for each other's weak spots, their hearts set on victory.

The definitive blow was struck with a faraway ring of bells as Hypnos whipped his sword at Thanatos' throat, seizing the opening in his brother's ever-perfect defense. And so their blurry figures stabilized, exiting the state of perpetual motion.

Even though Hypnos was pointing his sword tip at Thanatos' throat, which should have sealed his win, there was no delight on his face since he felt the chilly touch of a blade pricking his chin.

The dark scythe was held by his brother, its curvy blade threatening his neck with Death.

"It's a tie." Thanatos said, his golden eyes gleaming with frustration. "As always."

Hypnos willed the sword to vanish, and his brother shifted his scythe away from his neck. And he plopped himself on the ground next to his brother, willing two cups of nectar into existence, and then he passed one to his brother. "Well, you've come a long way since the last time. I actually fell for your last concealed move," he added begrudgingly. "Father taught you well."

"But not enough to beat you, though." Thanatos placed his scythe on the ground and took the cup.

"Cause Father knows better than to do that." Hypnos whispered, twirling the glasses.

And they sat in comfortable silence, drinking the nectar, as they lightly laughed at his last words.

"So, what are you here for?" Hypnos finally asked, his glass half-empty.

Thanatos turned toward him, his golden eyes brimming with solemnity. "There is a meeting in two days. Mother wants everyone to be present."

"What happened?" Hypnos frowned, struck by the solemnity of his words.

"That's the problem. I don't know." Thanatos sighed. "Mother apparently concealed everything with her authority."

"Then tell me your guesses." Hypnos started at Thanatos. "You should have devised some by now."

Thanatos was silent for a moment, and then he said. "Titanomachy."

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