Chapter 17: The Dream’s Truth and a Shattering Revelation

The Nekomata, who’d gone to report to Catsy, returned as dusk fell.

“Catsy’s checking the dream’s source. She’s busy tracking the evil god, so if you’re sure it’s the nightmare, use the ward to hold it temporarily.”

“The dreamcatcher?”
I pulled it out, and the Nekomata nodded.

“At night, when everyone sleeps, the nightmare—whether a creature or object—will be dormant. That’s when it’s off guard, so use the dreamcatcher.”

I stayed up with the Nekomata, waiting for the mansion to fall silent.
Finally, after the maid checking my room left, the mansion grew still as death.

“Let’s go.”
Gripping the dreamcatcher, I stepped out, the Nekomata in cat form padding behind. The silver butterfly, usually fluttering by my door, suddenly followed us.

“Won’t it give us away?”
I pointed at the butterfly, whispering. The Nekomata shook its head.

“It’s invisible to others, but I worried the nightmare might notice.”

“Could be Catsy watching. Let it follow.”

“Good, then.”
Dim candle lamps along the corridor softly lit the darkness.

Bernell’s room was on the third floor, opposite mine. I knew it well, having been dragged there for studies or his adventure tales.
I’d never doted on my sibling this much.
If I were really Aileen, I’d see him as a kind, ideal big brother.

“Here.”
Whispering to the Nekomata, I quietly opened the door.
Peering through the crack, I saw darkness, with Bernell’s steady breathing suggesting sleep.
Carefully, I slipped inside without waking him.

‘If he’s really the nightmare, I’ll feel betrayed after all his kindness…’
Hesitating by his bed, the Nekomata pawed my leg, urging me forward.

Through the thin lace canopy, his silhouette lay still. Lifting it, I saw Bernell, eyes closed in deep sleep.

‘How do I use this?’
Holding the dreamcatcher, I wavered. The Nekomata mimed throwing it with its paw, pink jellybeans embedded in it.
Throw it at Bernell? Was that okay? It felt wrong to hurl it at someone’s face.
As I hesitated, its paw gestures grew insistent.

Swish.
Reluctantly, I tossed the dreamcatcher.
The butterfly darted after it, and a wave of nausea hit me, my vision rippling.

“Ugh…”
A crushing weakness washed over me, and my sight flickered.

.
.
.

“Ugh…”
As my vision cleared, my senses sharpened. A metallic stench of blood and rot assaulted my nose.
Screams and the crackle of burning filled my ears.
Finally, my eyes adjusted—I wasn’t in Bernell’s room but floating in a strange place.
No, I was seeing through the butterfly’s eyes, surveying the scene.

It was a battlefield—corpses strewn about, weapons scattered in a river of blood. Beside human bodies lay massive, unidentifiable monsters.

“Aah…”
A groan of pain echoed.
A sole survivor in this death-soaked place?
The butterfly flew toward the sound, my vision following.

‘That’s!’
The groaning figure was… Bernell, impaled through the chest by a massive claw, dying.

‘Why is he here?’
He’d been asleep in his room moments ago.

‘Wait, he said he fought in a barbarian campaign…’
He’d returned victorious a week ago.
If this was his past, it didn’t add up—such a wound would’ve left him unable to move.

“Father… Charlotte… Aileen…”
Bernell, gasping, coughed up blood, his face paling as if life itself was draining away.
He’d die soon without help, but no one else was alive. He was the only one moving.

Having grown fond of him, I pitied his suffering. I wanted to help, but I was powerless.

Flutter, flutter.
The butterfly, watching him, suddenly flew straight to his head.

Chirr.
As it touched him, a new scene played in my vision, like a second monitor.

‘This is…’
Bernell’s memories, from childhood to now, flashed rapidly.
Moments with a young Aileen trailing him sparkled vividly.

“Poor thing… seeing his life flash before him?”
Catsy’s voice came from beside me, heavy with emotion.
Her words stirred a crushing pain, as if Bernell’s feelings infected me, making it hard to breathe.

“It’s the sorrow of a life’s end. His final emotions—guilt and regret?”

‘Big brother, can I become a great knight like you?’
‘If I’d watched Aileen better that day… she wouldn’t have fallen into the lake.’
‘If Aileen wakes, I’ll teach her everything…’
‘If I could return alive, see Aileen again…’

Bernell’s anguish was steeped in regret over Aileen.
He blamed himself for her accident, a guilt that festered watching her comatose for years.
The only way to atone…
Was to teach the awakened Aileen, filling the gap of her lost years with his utmost effort.

Flash.
As the butterfly left his memories, my vision returned to the dying Bernell.

Ripple.
His surroundings shimmered like watercolor, and then—shockingly—the claw piercing his chest vanished, and he stood, unharmed.

“Hmm.”
Catsy’s hum sounded.

“Was he the dream’s source?”

‘The dream?’
He’d been dying moments ago, yet now he moved as if nothing happened, leaving the battlefield.

‘The source Catsy mentioned…’
Catsy crafted dimensions from dreams, and this mansion was one such creation.
The Nekomata said this area’s dream stemmed from intense longing.

Bernell wasn’t the nightmare—he was the dreamer.
A dream born from his desperate wish to return home.
The dying man I saw was the real Bernell.

‘Maybe Aileen’s awakening after fifteen years is just his dream too.’
The real Aileen might still lie comatose.

‘Then where’s the nightmare?’

“Only the dreamer can spot the anomaly, no?”
Catsy’s voice nudged me as I reeled from realizing this was Bernell’s dream.

‘The dreamer’s Bernell, and he can spot the anomaly… but he hasn’t reacted oddly.’
I thought harder. Maybe I was overcomplicating a simple answer.
Why hadn’t he noticed the anomaly?
Because he hadn’t encountered it.

I’d seen his life’s memories.
Among his ever-present family, one was absent midway—his mother.
She died giving birth to Aileen, her memory diluted by time.
In his final moments, he didn’t recall her among the faces he longed for, as he’d soon join her in death.

But I’d seen her in the mansion, even visiting me post-awakening.

‘Why didn’t Bernell meet her?’
Because, being dead, she wasn’t part of his routine.
Only I, as Aileen, acknowledged her. To others, she was invisible, unnoticed.

No one questioned her absence at family meals or her late appearances in the dining hall, assuming she ate alone.
The nightmare was disguised as the mansion’s mistress.

As this hit me, weakness swept over me, my vision warping.

“Can you hold out until I arrive?”
Catsy’s voice faded into the distance.

When I came to, I was back by Bernell’s bed.

“I found the nightmare. Bernell’s not it.”

“What? Then why hasn’t the dreamcatcher returned?”
I looked at Bernell, but the dreamcatcher I’d thrown was gone.

“Catsy’s coming soon, she said. But she asked if I could hold out…”

Crash!
A loud shattering of glass echoed through the mansion.
A bad feeling crept in.

“The nightmare knows it’s been found,” the Nekomata said, voice grim.