Trances and doubts

[A/N: Co-written with ScarletRabbit.]

[Dream Trance

Related stat: Mental Power

**** the target to enter their Dreamscape, resulting in a trance-like state of their consciousness. They will keep no memory of being in this state.

While entranced, the target can accept conscious suggestions and commands with significantly increased effectiveness. They will be more willing to reveal their intentions than usual. Subconscious suggestions and commands are almost guaranteed to work.

However, this spell is canceled when the target receives damage.

The spell may be resisted depending on the target's mental defenses.

Cost: 1 WP/s]

Lucas's heart beat hastily as he finished reading the skill's information. His eyes darted at Ophelia.

The busty woman stood motionlessly, her eyes seemingly gazing at him yet unfocused. Her breathing was shallow, evident by the lack of movement of her chest. Lucas slowly approached her.

'What do I do about this situation...' he sighed, scanning his sister's face.

Ophelia's plush lips were done with a scarlet-red pigment and contrasted with her pale skin. The sleek yet defined cheeks compiled nicely with the small nose, giving her an alluring appearance.

Her eyes stared in his direction. Though this appeared to be a conscious action, Lucas failed to see any reaction to him waving his hand in front of her. Likewise, as his eyes scanned over her figure hastily, Ophelia didn't react in the slightest. He made half a step to the side, noticing Ophelia barely following his motion.

"...Ophelia?" he asked tenuously, unsure whether he should speak at all.

His sister's eyes darted at him immediately. The man thought that she had woken up from her state before he realized that her gaze was still roughly unfocused.

"...what?" she asked, her tone languid. The sapphire orbs seemed to gleam as she awaited an answer. Strangely enough, she appeared to hold no aggression in either.

"What just happened?" Lucas asked, taking half a step back.

Ophelia frowned, but it was scarcely a scornful expression. Rather, she seemed confused. "I... don't know."

Lucas sighed quietly, his brows knitting. Attempting to wrap his mind around this situation, he could only feel the pulsing headache in the back of his head appear anew, stronger with every beat of his heart. He opened his status.

[WP: 174/428]

...

[WP: 173/428]

'I don't have forever. I should quickly do something about this situation.' Lucas rubbed his cheek a little before hissing with pain, feeling the impact from before reverberating and letting him know of its existence.

His action immediately found purchase in Ophelia's head tilting ever so slightly. Though her expression was neutral, Lucas saw but a glimmer of something dancing within the blue eyes. It was almost as though she... felt compassionate at him.

He snorted with ridicule.

'Her, feeling compassionate when she's the one who did this to me? Don't make me laugh.' he gritted his teeth. Lucas groaned, anger surging. However, as much as he wanted to go ahead and say something, he needed a second to think.

'Think this through, Lucas.' he berated himself. 'Analyze this.'

He hummed for a second or so, reading the skill's description with more scrutiny. He felt a manalamp light up in his cranium.

'So... I can make suggestions and whoever hears them will believe them rather easily. Does that mean I can make Ophelia feel actually compassionate?' he felt his heart thump with a bit of a strange feeling. It was a heartwarming sensation that seemed to take him back in time to the times when he played with his eldest sister. Was such a thing even possible anymore?

Lucas clenched his fist. It didn't matter, not now. The situation he was in called for other actions.

"Ophelia," he spoke, doing his absolute best to not let the pain through. "Why did you do that?"

"..." she didn't answer. Her body seemed to tense up ever so little, almost as though she instinctively went on defensive at the question.

"Answer me. Why did you do that to me?"

"..." his sister remained silent.

'Why isn't she answering...? I expected her to just bluntly say something about punishment.' Lucas frowned at the thought. With a sigh, he said, "Ophelia, how do you feel?"

"...strange," she replied with a short pause.

"Strange? How so?"

"I... feel like I'm floating," Ophelia's eyes glimmered as they went around. "But... I'm standing."

'So... she's aware of her surroundings? More than that, what she's describing sounds like Astral Projection...' "Do you feel endangered?"

"No..." Ophelia responded, focusing on Lucas once more. "Just... strange."

"...can you lift your hand?" he asked.

Ophelia slowly straightened the fingers of her right hand before lifting it somewhat. If Lucas didn't know any better, he'd say she was preparing to cast magic. However, the languid stance told him otherwise.

'So... this works.' Lucas sighed before telling his sister to lower her hand. 'What... do I do about this now?'

Even though this skill was something Lucas hadn't heard of, Lucas was aware of the power of mental magic. Psions were feared for a good reason, after all. Just the possibility of being under one's influence was a dreadful thought.

Then why did Lucas feel so... invigorated?

'...!' he snapped himself out of his dazed state. Averting the stare of his eyes from Ophelia's curves, he felt his heart thump. 'No. Let's focus on what I need.'

"Ophelia," he started. "You will not speak of this to Mother, will you?"

"...no," she answered slowly, her blue eyes glimmering as though she wanted to respond otherwise.

"Because you promised, right?"

"Yes."

"If Mother asks what happened, what will you tell her?"

"...nothing happened."

'Seems like she was speaking truth.' "Will you really?"

"Yes."

"Are you telling me the truth?"

"Yes," Ophelia answered bluntly. However, perhaps it was the question asked, but her eyes appeared to focus on Lucas for a brief moment.

"Then, will you tell Mother about this?"

"No."

'...I guess that's the best assurance I can get.' Lucas sighed, turning sideways to his sister for but a moment. 'Now, there is one more thing I wanted to know.'

"Ophelia, why did you attack me like that?"

"..." Ophelia remained silent again. Her brow twitched momentarily as though she formed an answer but decided against speaking her mind.

'She won't answer me... how to go about this...?' Lucas frowned.

Within his mind, he could only sense the tiredness of his state. The strange presence watching his actions was gone. Strangely enough, however, Lucas could imagine how it would react to this situation. He almost felt the ridiculing laughter at his inability to solve this simple situation. It's such a simple solution, it'd snicker.

Lucas winced for a moment, feeling a stronger pulse of the headache let him know of the passing time. Ophelia's unmoving form was still in the same spot.

'...I should ease her up into it.' he realized. 'She will speak of this if she doesn't feel like it's wrong to say it.'

"Ophelia... listen to me. Hear my voice."

"Yes?" she tilted her head slightly.

"You... feel at ease," Lucas said slowly, selecting his words. "There is nothing strange or dangerous happening."

"There is nothing strange or dangerous happening..." the silver-haired woman slowly repeated his words. Almost as if in an immediate reaction, her pose loosened up, albeit only slightly.

"Say that again."

"There is nothing strange or dangerous happening."

"You are safe here. Say it."

"I am safe here."

"Again."

"I am safe here."

"You can talk with your brother."

"I can... talk with my brother," she said, but a momentary pause could be heard.

"You can talk with your brother."

"I can talk with my brother."

"Again."

"I can talk with my brother."

'Seems like she's drinking it in rather readily.' Lucas hummed lowly. 'Doesn't this seem a little... too easy?' he frowned. The longer he had this class, the stranger it seemed. 'Or... is it Dream Walker's doing, even?' he summoned his status. Glancing down upon his stats, he confirmed that the mysterious, final stat sat at 2 points. 'Could this be because of this...?'

"...urgh," he let out a slightly pained sound.

'Better not to wonder too much. My WP is already half of what it was just now. Let's do one more reassurance and try again.'

"Do you know what honesty is, Ophelia?"

"Yes," she answered, very slightly shifting her position. It almost seemed like she felt offended at the question, but Lucas was not the person to judge that.

"Are you an honest person?"

"...yes," she replied hesitantly.

"Then you will be honest with your brother, right?"

"...yes..."

"You will be honest with your brother. Say it."

"I... will be honest with my brother."

"Again."

"I will be honest with my brother."

"Then, tell me. Why did you do that?" Lucas frowned, an eerie sense of anger welling in his spirit. His fists almost clenched.

"...I..." Ophelia fell silent again. Within her eyes, Lucas noticed a glint of movement as though she seemed to regain at least a bit of her senses. However, that disappeared almost immediately.

"Why did you do that? Why did you attack me, Ophelia?" Lucas pressed the issue, sensing the heaving headache reverberating in his head. His time was running dry.

"...I was... commencing punishment," she spoke, but her voice appeared hesitant. Almost as though she didn't believe her own words.

"Punishment? For breaking Mother's orders?"

"Yes," Ophelia answered as though she expected the question.

"You..." Lucas let half a thought leave his mouth before taking a deeper breath in. "Why? I told you I wouldn't do that again. Why did you keep attacking? Do you like torturing me that much?"

"I..." Ophelia didn't go beyond a single word. The rims of her eyes glistened as she was visibly conflicted about something. "I... don't know..."

"You... don't know?" Lucas frowned. "What kind of an excuse is that? You don't know why you lashed out on your brother?!" his voice raised in volume as he took a step toward Ophelia.

She hardly moved at his advance. However, the way her eyes glimmered showed that her spirit stirred inwardly with wariness.

"I... I was just... commencing punish--"

"Bullshit!" the young Stormrider roared. "Don't try to hide your intent! If you really hate me that much, just say it! It's not like I don't know!" he stepped even closer.

"I... just..." she tried saying something before falling silent. Her expression was still neutral, but Lucas noticed a glint of apprehension stir in the icy-blue eyes. In a way, it appeared that she was scared of him.

Lucas's advance, however, was not finished.

"You just what? Punished me?! For something I didn't even do?! If this happened to you, what would you think, huh?"

"...that it's unfair," Ophelia answered slowly, her eyes skittering to the side despite their blank appearance.

"Now you get it, huh?! It's unfair! I get treated like this because of what I am. I can't control when I class! The least you could do is just show a bit of support! But no! You keep ridiculing me, wishing me my end! How would you feel if I called you a cow?! All you do is flaunt these tits of yours like they're the reason you know magic--!" Lucas's retort suddenly lost its momentum when he looked at his hand.

A moment of complete silence ensued as he felt the softness of Ophelia's massive breast. Even though she wore a bra under the dress, he could tell their mass was springy and inviting for more contact.

Looking at her face, Lucas failed to notice any kind of reaction. The woman appeared completely unaffected by his hand squeezing the abundant boob. Even her eyes, the only thing that seemed expressive so far, were completely blank.

Lucas's hand recoiled sharply.

'When did I-- Why did you...' he looked to his side, but the presence within his mind was gone, just as it had been for the past few minutes. This action was on him.

Lucas's breathing sharpened, becoming slightly shallower. Swallowing nervously, he reached out again and touched Ophelia's breast with hesitation.

'She doesn't react...' the realization formed in Lucas's head as he scanned his sister's face.

Another second or so passed. Lucas felt his heart beat thunderously as he realized something more. His class could influence others to do his bidding. If he used it properly, it could be possible to make Ophelia do as he wanted. He could faintly see her slowly undressing from the snug dress, pulling it down her toned body, before unclasping the bra and releasing the huge--

'NO!' Lucas almost jumped backward, retreating his hand. His vision shook and dimmed as he felt his heart threaten to burst out of his chest. His fingers curled as he lowered his hand.

Sweat dripped down his face with every exasperated breath. Summoning his status, he noticed his WP reaching the lowest of double digits.

'I...' he formed half a thought before bolting toward the exit. He could not bear the gravity of what just happened. He didn't want to.

-Meanwhile-

Ophelia let out a faint groan as her face grimaced. A hand massaged her temples, sensing the faint pain within.

Glancing around, she noticed signs of battle. No... rather, it was a sign of the one-sided beating she delivered to Lucas. The arena's sand was disturbed in several spots, wet places signifying melting icicles she'd struck with.

Her gaze shot toward where Lucas was.

...

'He escaped...' she mused quietly. 'I... spaced out there for a moment. What was I thinking about...?' Ophelia frowned, taking a short step to the side. 'Whatever. Must've not been important.'

Confirming she was alone, Ophelia reached for the left bra strap, lifting it. She let out a relaxed sigh and repeated the motion for the other one.

'Gods, my shoulders are stiff...'

-Later-

Nimue's hands moved with skill and gentleness, evident in how her soft fingertips tenderly traced along Lucas's skin, her palm holding a small cloth drenched in a mixture that felt like cold water and faintly smelled of ****. The green of her eyes reflected in the manalamp's glow, showing the immeasurable concern stirring deep inside her soul. This, however, went unnoticed by Lucas, who barely even gave a reaction to the maid's movements over his wounded skin.

His academic robe lay behind the two sitting on the bedside, and the lack of his shirt exposed every last bit Ophelia struck at him. Most of the spots were scarcely discernable, being only tiny, reddish points. Similarly, bar a singular, larger spot of violet color just below his ribcage, the white-haired man didn't even feel the rest.

In sincerity, the only thing that was prevalent to him at the moment was his tiredness.

Nimue placed her hand atop his, exerting a bit of **** to lower it slightly. In a barely awake state, Lucas didn't stop his motion until he felt his hand touching something soft. Almost instinctively, he grasped at it ever so slightly before his hand recoiled.

"!" his gaze sharply focused on Nimue, whose cheeks were immediately flushed with a hint of rose. "S-Sorry, Nimue, I didn't mean to."

"I-It's alright," she replied, bringing a hand and fixing up the outfit around her cleavage a little, removing the sign of Lucas's hand sinking onto her breast. "You seem... rather tired, young master," she noted, scanning his face. "Have you slept well today?"

"...I had a long night, is all," he gave her a gentle smile. "You don't have to worry about that."

"..." Nimue gazed to her side, her eyes expressing great uncertainty. "Young master, can I ask you something?"

Lucas nodded.

"Why do you... keep on shrugging things off?"

"Shrugging them off...?" he raised an eyebrow, unsure how to take her words.

"It's just... you know very well what your situation is like. We all know it, young master," Nimue's hands intertwined atop her hips as Lucas lowered his hand fully, focusing on her to the best of his ability. "Yet, you keep on saying that it's nothing to be bothered with. But I know it's not like that," she said, her eyes glimmering. Lucas could swear he noticed a glint at the rims, almost as though the black-haired elf was about to cry. "Why?"

"..." Lucas didn't reply, turning his head away.

"If you have worries... if nobody else will listen, I will. No matter what it is, I'm here for you," Nimue's voice held an edge of firm consideration. Lucas could not help but sense... comfort from within her eyes. "I know it's difficult to confide in anyone, but I'm here if you need me. Don't... try to carry all the burden yourself."

His heart shook. He was used to not shouldering his problems to anyone. He had always believed that it was himself who was to blame for his faults. He could not class because he was not talented enough to overcome his mana block. He suffered as a consequence. His family hated him for being a failure. He could not enter the Academy and was only approved because he piqued the dean's interest.

But now... now he felt comfort. Staring at Nimue, he felt as though he could speak with her freely. She had always been by his side, through thick and thin. If anyone could understand his position, it would surely be her--

'No. Even if it's Nimue, I can't tell her about all that's been happening.' he lowered his gaze to his knees. 'I definitely can't be speaking about what I classed as, nor about whom I met... in the first place, how ridiculous would that sound, that I met a 10th-circle Mage and a goddess...' he sighed. However, lifting his eyes slowly, a sour sense of guilt nested itself in his throat.

The woman didn't react much to his silence. In all sincerity, it looked almost as though she had expected him to not speak up. Yet, the amount of heart-wrenching concern in her eyes was evident.

Lucas slowly parted his lips, "Nimue... I've been wondering."

"...what about?" she raised an eyebrow.

"What if I classed as a Psion?"

"A Psion...?" Nimue's face contorted in shock. "Why would you ask something like that, young master?"

"It's just... I was considering the situation as a whole," Lucas slowly said, weighing each word carefully. "What if the reason I cannot class is not because of this mana block, but... because if I will, I will turn into a Psion or something similar? What if it's the world's will, rather than my inaptitude?"

Nimue's eyes skittered sideways. Lucas's words visibly stirred something within her mind as she fiddled with her thumbs nervously for a prolonged moment. Yet, her stable breathing told him that she was not scared of the possibility. Rather, she was considering it deeply.

"What would people even look at me like if I did? Maybe the world simply doesn't want me to class, lest I do something horrible?" Lucas seemingly threw the question into the air. The violet of his eyes disappeared as he closed his eyes, taking a deeper breath. 'That feeling with Ophelia... it was such of power. I had power over her mind, to an extent. What's really worrying me, though, is that I felt almost excited by it.'

"...I wouldn't care," Nimue's lips parted, giving the man a surprising answer.

"???" Lucas's eyebrow shot up as he focused on the maid. "What do you mean?"

"Classed, classless... people always worry so much about what they'll become, and they forget to be who they are," Nimue's eyes glistened with wit. Right at this moment, she was speaking from experience. "They forget that it's not their class that makes them 'them'. I've seen Mages do horrible things to others, young master. Warriors **** people they were supposed to protect. All of that happened because they had power others did not. Good, bad... neither of those apply because of a class. They are products of one's personality."

"..." Lucas didn't answer, digesting Nimue's words.

"But you are not like that, young master. You know the struggles of being... like this," Nimue looked at her hands. "Yet, you've always been a nice person. I wouldn't care if you classed as a Psion or the like. I know that you are not the type of person to **** your power."

'It's not the class that defines who I am...'

Lucas's heart beat with strength. An almost eerie sense of catharsis washed over him. For some reason, those words, while sounding so very obvious, were out of his reach all this time. How could he have not realized this?

'I wasn't excited at the prospect of what this power can do. I was excited because I finally could stand up for myself.' his lips immediately curved into a smile at the realization. 'I... the reason those things came to my mind... I guess the memories of Luccius's adventures reverberate. I'm too tired to segregate all that.'

"...thank you, Nimue," he said slowly.

"...?" the elf woman raised an eyebrow.

"You have always been here when I needed you. Thank you," he raised a hand, tracing along Nimue's palm for a moment. His tired eyes barely parted, staring into her earthy-green orbs. Was it not for how quickly he closed his eyes, he'd have noticed her cheeks flushing. "Sorry that I... didn't disclose much," he continued, his voice quieter. "I'm just..."

"I-I..." Nimue stammered before letting out a long whiff of air. "It's alright, young master. I'm glad you see you're not alone in this."

A wave of relief washed over Lucas's shoulders. His spirit, usually so torn about by tribulations and obstacles in his way, now felt... serene. With every beat of his heart, he could feel it. He was not alone.

...

"Thank you..." he repeated quietly. His eyes were closing, a testament to the tiredness of what had transpired in the last two days. He was ungodly tired. Classing, learning of his attributes, meeting first a goddess, then that strange woman... and now, this situation. Lucas's mind could no longer cope with this amount of fatigue.

The relaxation from the momentary catharsis let his mind slip into the dream world with ease.

...

...

...

"!" Nimue's face was beetroot-red as she looked at Lucas, whose head rested on her lap, asleep even before he got to this position. His disheveled hair was a nigh-perfect contrast to her attire. The calm breaths escaping his nostrils were proof of his serene dreams.

Nimue dared not move. Even though her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest, the elf maid didn't want to wake him. Even if she had to give up on her duties for a short while, she was prepared for that.

Her hand tenderly traced Lucas's hair. She brushed it gently, a coy smile gracing her lips. Gods, this situation was one in a thousand. She was sure to remember every last second of it for the next months.

...

If only...

...she could...

...express it.

Nimue's heartbeat hardened for a split second. It felt almost wrong, to stay silent about how she felt. But at the same time, she knew she was not a person for Lucas. Classless or not, he was a noble, and she - just a maid. Even if she confessed, hell, even if he accepted her feelings, the road ahead would be nothing but rocky.

Nimue has had enough of rocky roads in her life.

...

'He reminds me of Iwo a lot.' she pondered, tracing along Lucas's jawline. 'He's just as gentle. You raised him well, Master Valerian. If only... it wasn't like this.' her hand clenched. A bit of disgust welled up in her heart before she shook her thoughts out.

...

Eventually, Nimue moved, careful not to wake the man. Slowly, she helped Lucas fix his sleeping position. Ensuring that the man had everything he'd need for when he woke up, the elf woman moved about silently. Finally, she crouched right next to him.

'Sleep well, Lucas.' she wished in her mind.

She closed her eyes for but a second, sensing the overwhelming urge in her heart. Nimue slowly leaned in, planting a light kiss on Lucas's cheek.

---

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