Well, I don't know what happened here... I had planned to write something else, but decided to be cryptic with dreams...

Please enjoy~

After a while of just sitting there, having some small talk, Mathias decided he would tell his mother about everything as soon as he could. He was certain, done with the fear and ready for anything.
Lukas, his feelings for him and everything else he'd never dared to tell his mother. No more secrets, no more lies. It was about time she knew everything.
He told Lukas, who nodded in agreement like he always did and told Mathias he thought that was the best way to handle the current situation. He knew Freja longer than just a day and was certain she would only be happy to know the truth her son had hidden from her.

Lukas wondered why people always made such a big deal out of telling people their secrets. Sure, he'd never told his parents about Mathias, but he was about 100 percent sure they already knew or generally didn't care. It was probably the latter, though. It always was.
But he never tried to hide his feelings, either. Not being able to be who you truly are would only make you depressed, and since Lukas had known from the moment he met Mathias, he decided to take the road to happiness and let all the nervous feelings go.
Lukas wasn't the kind of person to openly tell someone what he thought. He was usually the one listening and comforting people.

''So how's your mother? I thought you said she had a fever?'' Lukas asked out of the blue, changing the whole atmosphere around them in less than a second. He genuinely cared about Mathias' mother, since she'd always treated everyone with kindness and would always be there for anyone who happened to need her.

Mathias nodded. ''Yeah.. She came home from work all sweaty and was swaying on her legs. She insisted she's make us dinner and such, but I pretty much forced her to go upstairs to lie down for a while. It's nothing life-threatening… Luckily.'' Mathias' voice cracked a little, indicating that he wasn't actually sure about his words or puberty was catching up with him.
''She's just feeling a little weak, but, knowing her, she'll be up on her feet again in a few days.

In his dream, Lukas was a sorcerer. About 19 years old, instead of an old man with a grey beard like Gandalf or Merlin. He wasn't tall or muscular, but slender and pale. His eyes still held that color of the night's sky captured and his hair was silky. In his dream, he was accompanied by a moss-green troll. Well, a floating troll's head. It had long hair and long fangs, but was more friendly than he looked.

He was standing at the edge of a forest, looking out over a big field of grass. It reminded him of Bambi. Taking a few steps forward, the wind began to pick up. It messed up his hair, that was now clinging to his face. He wanted to move it behind his ear with one of his hands, but was halted by the feeling of cold metal. Trying to be careful, he took the metal object out of his hair and looked at it. A golden cross, lying on his side. How curious.

A feeling of uneasiness washed over him. Someone was watching him, and it definitely wasn't the mysterious troll that was following him now.
Lukas took a casual look over his shoulder, spinning around and acting as if he was just trying to get a better look at the nature around him.

Strange.

Sighing, he mentally slapped himself. It was probably nothing more than a rabbit or deer. A bear, moose or wild boar at worst. But he was a sorcerer. He'd just protect himself.

Squinting his eyes, the young sorcerer tried to get a good view of the opposite side of the field. Someone - or something - was standing there. Right there. His back turned towards him. A big black piece of cloth hanging down from what Lukas assumed were someone's shoulders.

He started walking faster and faster. Walking turned into jogging, jogging into running and running turned into sprinting. After a few minutes, his side began to hurt as if he'd been stabbed with an old, rusty dagger. Ignoring the pain, he never stopped running. He felt this intense need to know who or what was standing there. It almost felt as if the black clothed person was waiting for him to arrive.

The wind seemed to be working against him, pushing him away from the figure.

Lukas shouted at the figure, but his voice didn't seem to breach the distance. Only the wind could be heard as it rang into his ears now.

The young sorcerer tried everything; from reaching his arms out to claw at the figure, to screaming, to trying to use his magic. In the end, he just turned around and admitted defeat.

''Lukas?'' a voice came from behind him, but the person in question wouldn't respond to see who it was.

''Lukas…''
The voice spoke more tender now. Quiet. It should have been impossible for Lukas to it hear over the sound of the wind, but somehow the voice seemed to be right next to his ear.

''Turn around, Lukas,'' the voice said. Lukas could feel his heart flutter, but why?

A strong, large hand landed upon his shoulder and gently squeezed it.

''Please, Lukas.. Come back to me,'' the person asked him. The voice was so sad, filled with desperation, drained of all hope.

Giving in to the pleas, the sorcerer turned around and was met with another man.

The stranger was tall, strong and handsome, with light blue eyes piercing into Lukas' own and his strong hands on his shoulders, shaking him lightly.

''Please, Lukas…''

He wanted to respond, he really did. But somehow, he was unable to. His mouth refused to form any words and the stranger's voice was lost in the ringing of the wind again.

His knees were weak and he was tired of fighting. This was where it ended and where he would be pulled out of his dream harshly for what seemed to be about the billionth time.

As always, thank you for reading and a big BIG thank you to everyone who left a review!

Have a nice weekend!