Chapter 5: Dante
Out in the realms of the unknown; in the labyrinthine depths of their mystifying castle, Dante stirred from the depths of a dreamless slumber, his consciousness emerging from the nebulous realms of oblivion.
Sleep was often a rarity in his timeless existence. More often than not, he chose to not sleep at all for ages.
In the fleeting moments before full wakefulness embraced him, a solitary image lingered —the glint of a sword, its blade forged of cosmos iron. Hovering in the ether, its edge gleaming with ethereal light; a silent sentinel amidst the void of his mind.
It was a curiosity, this dream of his, for dreams were not commonplace in the realm of his stagnant existence.
As awareness dawned upon him, Dante's gaze lingered around, focusing on nothing. With a subtle tilt of his head, he pondered the significance of the sword that lingered in the recesses of his mind.
A faint intrigue stirring within him. Dreams were a rarity for him, and the presence of the sword whispered secrets he had no means to decipher. Was it a symbol of power, a harbinger of change, or merely a figment of his timeless reverie?
He could not discern, for emotions eluded him. Why does he dream, he often wondered.
There was a time when the enigma of dreams remained veiled in mystery.
It was his sister who came to being after millennials upon millennials had passed for Dante- or perhaps only a few days, since the reality of time existed not for him- that he finally came to somewhat understand what dreams were.
Shortly or long after he was introduced to it, did he begin to experience them himself, however only just an image or two, time from time.
Dante couldn't fathom what it meant for him.
With a fluid grace born of centuries past, Dante, rising from the depths of his chambers, he moved with silent grace within the labyrinthine castles that housed his anomalous siblings.
His steps, though imperceptible, carried him forward with an elegance akin to a phantom's dance. The silk of his robes flowed like molten silver, whispering secrets of his silent passage through the echoing halls.
His golden locks, a cascade of silk, remained immaculate despite the swiftness of his movement, a testament to the otherworldly perfection of his being.
As Dante traversed those corridors, the very essence of his being seemed to merge with the fabric of the castle itself. At times, when he roamed, no soul, alive or dead, could see him coming or going, be it mortals or the same beings he called siblings.
Each corridor of this extravagantly humongous castle, bore the imprints of its inhabitant, a testament to the a testament to the anomalies that bound them together yet set them apart.
Whereas Dante's wing in the castles remained a solitary expanse, devoid of adornment or embellishment, mirroring his monotonous depth. Where others reveled in opulence and extravagance, he found solace in the simplicity of solitude.
In search of companionship amidst the solitude of his palace, like many times before, Dante seek to sought out only one of his sisters among his enigmatic siblings.
Amidst the hushed whispers of the palace, his sister's wing beckoned, a beacon of vibrant allure amidst the shadows.
Arriving at his sister's abode, Dante beheld a spectacle of pink and glittering extravagance. The air hummed with the soft murmur of whispered secrets among the servant hollows, and the walls gleamed with opulent splendor. The resident hollows, their forms shrouded in servitude, tended to her every whim, their presence a testament to her dominion.
As Dante entered her realm, he was met with the melodious laughter that echoed through the confines of her chambers.
"I see you in a fairly better mood, today." Dante quipped, allowing his sister and those within her chambers to be aware of his presence, knowing full well the extent of his hushed roamings.
The lady, now aware of her intruder turned in her place to capture him within her gaze. Her stare is known to put even the most conceited into a trance as they often lost themselves in their haunting beauty.