"Try it more to the left."


    "Like this?"


    "Tighter grip. There, you have it."


    "Um- Okay- Okay-"


    "Now! Fire!"


    "Ah! ...Oops."


    Fonda was standing completely still, his hands slightly lifted in the air as an arrow shot in front of him and lodged itself in the ground right before his feet. For just a moment he didn''t move, giving an angered side-eye to the two responsible for the firing in the first place. In front of him were two men – One, dark skinned with black hair and possessing cyan eyes, and the other with his face completely obstructed by a dark, black hood. It was the one with the hood that was holding a bow, his aim being guided by the other. There was a firing target on the tree near which Fonda found himself, but the shooter most definitely missed by a lot.


    "Ah! Sorry Fonda! I didn''t mean to do that!"


    The hooded person instantly started apologizing, while the other stepped away with a shrug. He prepared another arrow for his friend, taking it out of a large quiver that he had left lying on the grass.


    "Are you alright?"


    "...Yeah, you just barely missed."


    Fonda stepped over the arrow and chuckled.


    "I guess it''s good you two aren''t too far into your training then, right?"


    To this, the hooded figure looked down and raised his shoulders slightly, meanwhile the other man exclaimed;


    "Ha! As if! We''ve been at this for days!", he shouted out with a laugh, causing his friend to cover his face from embarrassment, "I guess Burgess is too sweet even for a bow. We''re gonna have to figure out some other weapon for you to use..."


    "I really tried my best... I just can''t get the hang of it."


    Burgess rushed over to the arrow he had just fired, Fonda passing him as he did so. He stopped right where the two had originally fired their shot, looking around. From the amount of arrows scattered everywhere and how exhausted the man with the cyan eyes seemed to be, he could tell this had been something that had carried on for days now.


    "Don''t be too tough on him, Sot. Bows are pretty tough to use."


    Fonda picked up one of the spare bows, readying an arrow and playing around with it for a while. He didn''t fire, however. He wasn''t sure that he was in the good mindset for a clear, daring shot to show off right now. He had also come here for a reason, after all.


    "You really need to get the movement right to be efficient."


    "I''m way better with a sword!", Burgess exclaimed, momentarily sitting down on a nearby tree stump.


    "But for some reason Zack thinks we should be trained in a lot more different styles. Gives us a... what did you call it again?"


    Burgess looked to his friend, who shrugged. Fonda noted his use of his real name – Around these parts, using a name over a title showed trust and a deep bond. Very few even allowed others to use their real names, but to this, Sot and Burgess were small exceptions.


    "A colourful pallet, I think? I don''t know, I barely listen to myself to be honest.", he responded, playing with an arrow in his hand.


    He looked at Fonda.


    "Well, you never come here without a reason. And the reason is usually you want something from us. So what''s up?"


    Damn, read me like an open book... Fonda played around with the bow he had picked up a little more before speaking, eventually putting it down without firing a single shot. The nearby valley was already sprinkled with arrows - He didn''t need to add to that.


    "Did you hear about what happened this morning?", he started, sitting down on one of Sot''s boxes.


    The man himself opted for just standing nearby, leaning against a tree.


    There was this look in his eye – As if he wanted to say something, but he couldn''t bring himself to.


    "...The fight by the caravan?", Burgess asked, tilting his head.


    "Everyone''s heard about that. It''s pretty big news... is Tom doing okay?"


    Of course, Burgess wouldn''t be Burgess without worrying about others.


    "He''s... recovering. We were lucky Errett was in the area."


    Fonda looked down for just a moment, remembering that fear and panic as that whole situation spiralled out of control. He shook his head, trying to force it away.


    "But things have... well, they''ve gotten worse. That''s why I''m here."


    "...I warned Will. Going against Dissonance is not a good idea. No matter what."


    Sot crossed his arms, his eyes focusing on the city nearby them.


    "Something was ‘bout to go wrong eventually. That''s why me and Burgess never got involved. Besides, we don''t need potions to kick ass, do we?"


    "Language!", Burgess shouted almost instantly, a knee-jerk reaction for him any time anyone dared to swear near him.


    He shifted in his seat, sighed and raised his hands.


    "But... you''re right. We didn''t need the potions and we didn''t wanna cross Dissonance. So we stayed out of it."


    "I... I get that... but this is something far worse than just Dissonance and his policies. He''s keeping Taza locked up in his house and making him work for him – That, no matter how much he may need those potions, is evil. That kid is fourteen!"


    For just a moment, the two men in front of him considered his words. And of course, Sot was the first to retaliate;


    "Let me guess, you want us to help you?", he asked with a tone that suggested he was completely unconvinced.


    "...Because whatever you might offer, I''m not interested."


    "And what if I offered you a test of morality?"


    Fonda turned his voice into a more grave one, noting how he finally got Sot''s attention in full – That wasn''t something easy to do.


    "...Go on."


    The man narrowed his eyes, meanwhile his friend shifted closer to him. It was clear he was worried for whatever this ''test of morality'' may entail.


    "...Taza has been living locked up in that flower field for five years now. We finally offered him a way out and a way for everyone to have the potions that could save their life. The only reason Tom is alive right now is because Errett bought health potions from us in the first place!"


    Fonda paused, standing up and pointing vaguely towards where the flower field was.


    "...When those three bastards heard about us finally giving Taza some freedom they took him back and locked him in again. He''s in there right now, working without getting anything for it! The question is this, Sot. Are you willing to put your own needs aside to help someone else?"


    And here, both Sot and Burgess were forced into silence. Having been part of the group that founded the city with Dream, they knew him better than anyone. They knew what he was like when he didn''t get his way, they knew how far he was willing to go for victory, and in some cases, they found out the hard way about what he was capable of at his worst. But they also knew that if they wished, they could take him down. Probably... it would take a lot of work, preparation, and some calculated risks, but they could. But the problem was they didn''t want to – As Dissonance''s close friends, they never experienced the worst parts of living in this city. They had no reason to go against the guy who gave them a place to stay and ensured they were safe. But it was unfair to leave Taza trapped, too. They had to find a balance between these two – A way to help without crossing Dissonance, a way to go directly against his orders without him ever tracing it back to them. And while Burgess stayed silent with his own internal battle, Sot cut in with an idea;The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    "I can''t go against Dissonance, and you know that.", Sot started, playing aimlessly with his hoodie strings.


    "But... I can help you. As long as you keep it under wraps."


    Fonda nodded almost instantly. He knew that without the help of someone far more skilled and far better off than him and his father they had no chance at rescuing Taza.


    "...Yes. Of course. Thank you!", he started, but was cut off as Sot lifted his hand with a sharp movement.


    With a grave tone of voice he said;


    "Don''t thank me yet. I can''t do much for you without getting me or Burgess hurt.... but... I have a few spare weapons and some armour lying around."


    The man paused, looking away.


    "You''ll have to keep them. That''s the only way for Dissonance to not trace them back to us."


    "A-are you sure? I mean, you don''t have to-"


    And Fonda, once more, barely got time to speak. Another thing about Sot – he wasn''t very patient.


    "Two bronze swords, a bow, enough arrows for a good battle, three steel chest plates, one leather tunic and a single fresh steel sword. It''s the best I can offer right now."


    Sot sighed.


    "Things haven''t been the best on our end, either. Dissonance may like us, but taxes are taxes, I guess."


    "I saw the house earlier today.", Burgess finally spoke up, having been mostly silent until now.


    He was aimlessly kicking a patch of grass under his foot.


    "...Georgie and Sapana are both guarding it. If you take Errett with you, you might just have a chance four on two... but that''s a big ''maybe''."


    "Those two have spare potions, fresh steel gear, and years of combat training from Dissonance himself. It''s not gonna be easy, and you have no chance if you just attack them outright."


    Sot paused, narrowing his eyes.


    "Move at night. Distract them. Don''t engage directly."


    "...Thank you, Sot. Truly.", Fonda said, and this time, was not interrupted.


    One thing was clear - This man was done talking and this was all of the advice he could give.


    After some further conversation, Sot agreed he would leave the supplies at the caravan that evening. Fonda headed back to Errett''s house with small sparks of hope in his heart - There was a chance at saving Taza, at showing everyone that Dissonance wasn''t as powerful as some would believe, at showing them standing up for themselves is truly worth it. But this hope didn''t last long - The things he began noticing left him unable to relax so easily. First it was the smell of smoke, the sickening miasma of gunpowder all around him. He walked faster. Then, there was the distant smoke rising from Errett''s house, the crackling of fire growing louder as he got closer. He started running. And finally, he arrived at where the home had once been, a large crater and nothing else left below. He stopped. Edges of the walls collapsed one by one as he watched, any of the remainders of the man''s home being engulfed by flames soon enough. He collapsed onto his knees.


    From the rubble of the house, the only person that emerged was Dissonance, dawning a twisted grin.


    "...When I was little... just a few months old... I was abandoned. My mum found me outside her house in a basket with these three discs tucked in with me."


    Tom, after some time to rest, was finally able to talk without as much strain as earlier. And with a few more potions from Errett, practically using up his entire stash, he was finally able to sit up on the bed and sway his legs back and forth from the edge. He had his leather backpack on his knees, taking out one of his discs and inspecting it with his bandaged hand. On its edge, his name was painted onto it, done with expert precision as to not disturb the actual disc and how it worked once out inside of a jukebox. The name itself, however, seemed to be written over another.


    "...But that doesn''t make sense... I remember giving the discs to you when you were the age you are right now, probably even older. It wouldn''t make sense for you to have them as a baby."


    Will grabbed the disc gently from the boy, noting how tightly he was gripping onto it. He traced its edge with the tip of his finger, feeling the rough texture.


    "...And I remember that, too. Well, remember that in a dream. So is it even real?"


    Clearly, this whole situation was starting to give Tom a headache. Will slipped the disc back into the bag and focused his attention on the blonde himself, seeing him shifting around in discomfort.


    "What happened after? Why did you come to this city?"


    Will decided to aim for definitive memories to give the boy some time to unwind. He noticed his eyes fill with sadness as he tried to keep tears at bay, and with a shaky voice, he spoke;


    "When I was six.... I think... the city we lived in, similar to this one, was attacked by monsters. It all burned around me and I just... ran. I left everything behind, and I kept running until I made it to another... and another... and another.... and all I had with me were the discs."


    "Why... why didn''t you stay somewhere? You just kept running?"


    To this, Tom paused and bit his lip. He once more focused on his bag, playing around with some of the straps on it. Finally, after some hesitation, he spoke up;


    "Because you weren''t there. And I was looking for you."


    "...Looking... For me?", Will repeated, surprised.


    It made him wonder - If his dreams had not been as invasive as they were, would he have looked for the three people, too? If he had that sort of control of his life up until now, would he have tried to find them, ran from city to city as Tom had? Would he have eventually found the owner of that cold, angry glare, with the chilling laugh and the convincing voice? Would he have eventually discovered who wielded the deadly sword, with the crown of a leader and the blood of thousands on his hands? And would he have eventually found Tom, with his three discs, the one point of connection between them, running from everything that was real and in search of his fake world, just as he was? Would it have changed anything, or would they end up here, with their dreams serving as a distraction to their unjust reality? There was no way to know, and that was what scared him most.


    "I kept looking... looking for the man with the sweet singing voice, the round glasses and the yellow sweater. That was all I remembered about you - Only those three bits. And I kept looking for them, and when I finally found you and you didn''t even know my name... I didn''t know what else to do. So I stayed, hoping you''d remember and tell me what those dreams were."


    "...Well, I''m sorry, Tom... but until now I didn''t think you were even real. But you coming here, it changed something. It made me realise that... those dreams were far more than that. They were like memories of things that never happened, but also something far more than that."


    Will paused.


    "Whatever memories we share, they have to come from somewhere."


    "What if we never find out?"


    Tom''s voice was shaky and uncertain, his eyes growing fearful.


    "What if we never figure out what these dreams are, where we got these memories, and we just keep looking and looking but we never find anything and we just die without knowing-"


    "Tom! It''s alright."


    Will cut the other off, noticing how stressed he started getting.


    "...Even if we don''t find anything, at least we''ll be looking together. And that''s better than what we''ve been doing so far, right? You, chasing a stranger from your dreams and me not even knowing where I am... even without clear answers, this is better."


    The boy''s face filled with hope for a split second.


    "Right... yeah... at least we''re-"


    "Will! Tom!"


    Errett''s voice, coming from somewhere downstairs, was enough to end their short moment of peace. The man turned the corner and faced the two, panic in his expression and one of his arms holding onto his stomach. Will shot up, meanwhile the teenager sitting next to him took his time rising up, grabbing onto his backpack as he did so.


    "Errett? Errett, what''s happening?"


    Will came closer to the man, grabbing his shoulders. He was gasping for air, blood seeping into his clothes from a wound around his stomach. He couldn''t even say a word as an explosion erupted from the left, stunning all of them and forcing them to their feet. Will first helped Tom stand and then got close to Errett, but the man pushed him away.


    "Go! Just get out of here! I''ll hold him off!"


    For a single moment, all three looked down the stairway of the house. There, with his black mask fully over his face this time, stood Dissonance, sticks of dynamite in one hand and a lit match in the other. His sword, now strapped to his back, was covered in blood - Errett''s blood. For a second all four just looked at each other, momentarily stuck in an oblivion, the seconds seemingly stretching into hours.


    Another explosion from the right snapped them all out of it.


    Tom felt his wrist being grabbed and was soon pulled along one of the corridors in Errett''s home, the smell of smoke filling the rooms one by one. There was no way to go down the stairs, with Dissonance slowly making his way up and throwing the explosives wherever he could. Errett himself tried to hold him off for a while, rushing forward with a bronze sword. He was soon thrust aside by a swift kick to the stomach, and after narrowly avoiding an explosion, clearly decided to give up and focus on himself once more. He made his way out a distant window, meanwhile Tom and Will tried to do the same.


    The house was getting more and more heated, and pieces of the floor began to slowly fall away as they were consumed by the flames. The two ended up getting stuck in one of Errett''s storage rooms, items falling out and crashing below. The boxes could barely be held by the wood any more - the floor was about to break any minute. And in this situation, looking around with seemingly no way out, building up inside of him, the feeling of helplessness returned once more. Tom grabbed onto Will''s arm and gripped his yellow sweater as hard as he could – It were as if he was just holding onto one last bit of familiarity he knew around here.


    "Tom?", Will suddenly shouted, barely heard over the fire and the explosions around them.


    "Yeah?", he shouted back, coughing on the ever-rising smoke.


    "Do you trust me?", the man asked, readying himself for... something.


    "...You''re the only one who''s seen those dreams."


    Tom looked at the man.


    "Of course I do!"


    "Well then know that... whatever happens, everything will be fine. I promise."


    Before the boy could even ask questions, Will suddenly grabbed his shirt and threw him aside, sending him tumbling out a window and landing on a large patch of grass below. All of the bruises from the cave suddenly made themselves known again, but his adrenaline allowed him to ignore it as he looked up at the house. There, in the window, Will was cut off by another wall of flame and disappeared behind it. Tom wanted to scream, call out to him, help him, but before he could even react, the house experienced one final explosion, knocking him far away and reducing the whole house to rubble. Tom''s ears were ringing, his head was pulsating with pain, and his eyes began to grow blurry with tears. He looked into the flames in stunned silence. He watched and stared intensely, waiting for someone to emerge.


    But even as the dust settled, Will was nowhere to be seen.