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Neverending Daymare

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When meeting the additional family in the Duke of Favonius, Frederick suddenly became close with a girl called Sonya, and they spent a tremendous amount of time together. As their mutual relationships steadily grow, there's something dark lurking within their past as it emerges. The two shared attachments will soon vanish after uncertain memories play with their future decision. It may push them apart, but those who serve them before the crisis want nothing more than their happiness. Cover Illustration by Claparo-Sans on DeviantArt

Kenya Nanjo
Age Rating:


Azran opens and looks through every book in this never-ending library, waiting as if an event will occur. Books move from place to place, and tiny sprites organize them while keeping track of which sections are which. A few sprites carry a cup of tea to Azran. It floats beside him in minutes before he grabs it. On his other hand was a book, interesting that he became too absorbed in it, taking a sip from the cup then scowling at the unpleasant taste. The drink was sour for his liking.

"Yum, so refreshing. I love the taste, the sourness in it."

A feminine voice, known as Rhian, popped out of nowhere, made Azran smile, and then he replied, "Everything you taste is tasty to you. No matter if it's disgusting or not, you'll consume it."

No comment returned, but a giggle.

Azran nonchalantly slams the book close and brings it to a dark yellow soma armchair, where he sits and continues reading. The books he's holding aren't any average literal, but spells. The same goes for every single book here. To his interest, this one was old and was written long ago. The writing was childish, with terrible scribbles.

Behind him, leaning on the furniture, was a see-through figure. It's the figure Azran had a few conversations with a second ago from the look of it. He reaches for Rhian's hand and kisses it.

"How adorable these writings I'm seeing," Rhian said, taking the book while flipping through it. "Are these... Oh, darling, it's yours when you're a child. The first book you wrote."

"Of course, my dear. They may be old, but these spells are valuable. Now." Azran stood up and turned while grabbing the book from her. "Let us have some lunch. I'm a bit...peckish."

Rhian smiled and said, "That sounds lovely."

Azran settles the book on the furniture, where the sprites pick it up to put it away. Without taking Rhian's hand, she vanished and went into Azran's center chest. A part of him, a part of her. They walk in front of the bookcase until a white light appears, showing the size and shape of a door where they enter.

Light passes through Azran, transporting him inside a bar at a location that welcomes any living beings. Also, it belongs to an acquaintance of his. He enjoys the meal they serve, and their cooking beats any top restaurant he has visited before. Just the scent carried from the kitchen already made him drool, and Rhian, too, agreed with him on these delicious ferments catching her.

Petite Bar; even though it's small, there's enough space for Azran to find a seat to sit. Tables aren't available, but he doesn't mind sharing. One table he chose and everyone on it didn't bother him, minding their own business because it's all about respecting the spaces.

Azran sits comfortably then mumble, "uԍw," summoning a screen of various drinks he can order. However, that's not the section he's interested in but food. "Dooɻ," he commanded again, this time, showing what he wanted.

"Woah, everything looks so good. I want that one, that one, that one, also that one," Rhian appeared, pointing to nearly all the foods on the menu.

Azran chuckled, then said, "Careful, my dear, don't want to ruin my health. Do you?"

"I'll try not to... But no matter your appearance, I still love you."

"How sweet of you..." An image then caught Azran's eyes with a teasing smile. "Look, my dear, this Piyaz seems tasty."

Rhian stares closely at what Azran is pointing and the dish he speaks, which she covers her mouth in horror. It's nothing but beans. Less meat too. The teasing doesn't sound serious, however, knowing Azran's personality means he'll definitely order such a meal. He signals the server to get his order within a second while Rhian panics. This is not what she had in mind going out for lunch.

"Delicious, I do say so myself."

Azran sucks a few tips off his fingers, as if he's enjoying every piece left in his mouth. However, Rhian cuddles herself while goosebumps cover her whole body, unable to forget the aftertaste unless something replaces it.

"Cheer up, my dear. What if I make it up for you? Because I'm now craving for some chocolate." Azran's suggestion sounds great, but Rhian feels like she's not trusting this 'treat' of his. "Oh, please. Don't make that face. I'm done fooling with you today."

A young man who wore a mask that expressed an unpleasant grin came from behind, moving a seat beside them. Which surprises Azran when this gentleman comes out of nowhere. Without ignoring this man's existence, Azran's eyes met directly with his, and he noticed a tall woman behind that man.

"It's rare to see you here, Eric. And your daughter?" Azran smiled, now concentrating on the woman.

"Always the same, no emotion, empty."

"This meeting isn't a coincidence. What brings you to me?"

"There's someone I'm seeking, and it isn't just one. More than a group, or hundreds, I believe. I saw in my own eyes that they opened the gate by sacrificing a couple of people, including children. Maybe, someday, they'll roam freely through those gates."

"That, you need my help."


"Ah, I see..." Azran nodded, understanding what he was aiming for. "You're not worried about those men or who can access any of those realms. Your interest is what is in their possession. Am I right, Eric?"

Eric chuckled, then said, "You're never wrong. Still the same as ever. I want you to keep me in touch if you come across them. That's all I need."

"What if I don't?" Azran smirks, waiting to see how he'll take it. The mask Eric wore made it less impressive, but Azran enjoyed the silence. No replying, so he continued, "You once were my apprentice, and still are. Unfortunately, Eric, I'm sitting out on this one. Don't get me wrong. I'm desperately worried about the gate, but... I'm getting old."

Getting old or not, there is not an ounce of wrinkles on Azran's face. The main issue here is that Eric was his apprentice. The same goes with his other apprentices out there. Chances are, they'll meet and have little quarrels when one has their own aim to accomplish. Azran hates putting down his foot between them. He can gain nothing in these situations by dilly dally offering a hand.

Creepily crawling over, Azran's hands were red liquid as he saw them, getting into his sleeve but were destroyed by slamming his hand on it. The table wiggled while all eyes were on them. A deep growl came from Azran's throat, then settled, widening his lips.

"Sorry to disrupt your meals, ladies and gentlemen," Azran apologized, standing then bowing. "Please, continue." He went back to sitting on his chair, then glared at his apprentice. "You know you won't win if you try anything on me."

Eric chuckled unpleasantly. "I'm only playing with you. Don't be too exaggerated, master."

"Playing, you say."

There's an urge in Azran wanting to smash this man's skull, but resist, causing any ruckus it needs to be. He kept quiet, then glanced at the daughter, who also seemed on edge as if keeping herself from doing exactly as he had in mind. Then he saw Eric's hand, holding one of hers and slowly easing her temper.

"Guess it's time," Azran smiled, then stood up. "Neither of us is ready to hold a fight. Better for us to depart before things get worse, Eric."

Azran left without giving them a second glance, then exited the restaurant. Disappearing then appeared in his library, sighing but not expecting to meet Eric. Rhian, who's absent through the entire conversation, suddenly pops at his face, floating upside down, which gives him a fright as he clutches his chest and deep breathing.

"Who's that? I don't remember seeing him before."

"Eric Gilbert Jacques Corniea," Azran said, calming himself before continuing, "The seven-year-old king."

"Oh... Him..." Amor nodded in a mumble, adding some displeasure. "He doesn't seem to be the Eric I know. The Eric we saw way back then had a flock of red hair with a strong heart. And... It's completely gone."

She's right, but there's nothing Azran can do about him. That boy, he watches him grow into a fine King, leading a well-trained army through a battlefield but abandoning that life to be a scientist. An insane one, which Azran would add to that. Eric's method is unpredictable, and hard to judge if he's an ally or not.

Mōnpin Translate

uԍw - Menu

Dooɻ - Food

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