Dorian, who was lying in his bed ready to sleep, suddenly stood up.
"My dream powers? You mean the new skill that I just unlocked? How does it even work?"
Dorian gulped. There was only one other person around he would be able to test it on—someone that Yamir insisted upon heavily.
"You will know soon. You see, that particular skill needs a few conditions to be met, and well, that is where we as incubi shine. Now, since it will be your first time using this skill, I guess I will do most of the work so you can connect with the other person. Usually, it requires you to have already marked them for the process to work smoothly, but since you're talking to the progenitor of your race, I have experienced this enough times that I can hook you up without all that."
Dorian sighed, but in truth, he really wanted to learn to use it, especially since this seemed to be the most magical aspect of all of this—well, besides the dungeon under his house he hadn't visited yet.
"Just rest, sleep; I will handle the rest. Just remember, kid, I can't be with you there. I am linked to your body, not your subconscious, and this requires you to learn to use that. Just don't go making your aunt's dream go down a weird path. It will affect her. If you end up in a nightmare, she could even have repercussions for a few days."
Dorian nodded slowly, not fully understanding what it all entailed, but Yamir's calming voice at least assured him that it didn't usually end up that way.
"Alright, I hope it doesn't end up like that."
After that, he seemed to go straight to sleep, possibly due to Yamir's influence. He knew the enigmatic being in his head was pushing for this.
The sensation of entering sleep was strange this time. He instantly felt the blackness that one feels when their body is shutting down, but instead of lying still, he felt that he was floating. It was almost like in those movies where, after death, someone leaves their body, only this time he was able to clearly see it: his body just lying about where he had left it.
He was outside of it, clearly invisible as his hand passed through his bed.
This time, though, Yamir wasn't with him, but he could feel a strange power enveloping him, probably the effect that would allow him to enter his aunt's dream, who was not marked.
Dorian felt he shouldn't waste time and tried standing up but noticed it was the wrong way of going about all of this. His foot went through the floor, meaning he was essentially still floating.
"Well, that was dumb of me… right?"
As soon as he said that, the voice that was constantly in his head said nothing; he had forgotten Yamir's words from just a few minutes ago.
"Glad that I could be without the guy's voice in my head for a while, at least."
Dorian, feeling pressured, as if it wasn't safe to be out of his body for long, rushed out of the door and into his aunt's room. He did not just enter, though; he started with a little peek, still cautious about it all. Dorian did not know what to expect; how would her sleeping figure be?
That was when he saw his aunt's figure huddled up, as if hiding from someone, the blanket covering each part of her body as if she were shielding herself from someone.
"Strange?"
He slowly took a few steps and took a closer look at her face. It seemed she was not resting as well as she should be. He could even spot a few drops of sweat on her beautiful brow.
"Well, I guess this power could help her with something at least?"
The problem was that he wasn't told exactly what he should do. Well, it wasn't too hard to figure out; he even felt what he needed to do, and well, it was sort of strange. The power required someone marked, so it essentially meant he had to somehow touch them to start the process, or so he assumed.
He began by slowly placing his hand on her cheek and felt a sliver of a connection, and yet it seemed it wasn't as strong as it should be, as if there was still a resistance to all of this.
"Well, I'm an incubus now. I guess there's only one way…"
Dorian looked at the anguish on his aunt's face and decided to just get it over with. He placed his lips on hers. Even though there was no tangible sensation of touching her, it was then that he felt the connection form. He felt the same rush of power that he did with Emma and Lina, but that wasn't all: he was pulled in somewhere else.
Suddenly, his surroundings changed. He was no longer in the room but in a strange place where darkness reigned. There, he noticed a figure running about. By her curves, he instantly knew who it was.
"Aunt Becca?"
His aunt was running through a long corridor with various doors, a small spotlight focused on her and following her as she moved. She stopped every so often, trying to open one of them, but failed. She then ran once more.
In the distance, there was another figure. He instantly knew who it was, even if it was slightly distorted in this dream.
It was her husband, except it wasn't the old beer-belly guy that he knew. He looked younger, stronger, and handsome—probably what he used to look like in his early twenties.
He wondered why the dream had preserved the man's former appearance.
His aunt, however, wasn't young. In fact, she looked a little older, still beautiful, but her hair was slightly grayed out. He wondered why, though, as dream versions usually reflect an idealized self or a moment of trauma.
Dorian did not move at first; he wanted to understand all that was happening here. It was clear his aunt was running from her husband here. The guy was clearly drunk; a whiskey bottle in his hand only emphasized this. She, however, hadn't noticed him yet; she was clearly still trying to open one of the many doors in the long corridor.
His first instinct was telling him to give the guy a beatdown, but something warned him against it. It was someone else's dream. What if his aunt made him far stronger than he really was, and things turned the wrong way? He did not know what would happen if he died here.
Trapped in someone else's dream, Dorian had no way to know how he looked. Given his aunt appeared aged and her husband was idealized, he had no idea what form he had taken inside this shared nightmare.
His aunt was a few meters from him, and her husband was a few meters from her, walking slowly as if enjoying the chase.
Dorian looked at the door beside him, though, and tried opening it. He felt his hand strangely connect physically with the door as if it were real.
"Guess I do have a body…"
Turning the knob, he saw that the door opened. The other side was awfully familiar, though: it was the house where he was currently living, his grandfather's house. He slowly went inside, closing the door just slightly.
He wasn't going to confront her husband, but he could at least pull his aunt inside when she got close enough.
Dorian waited. He didn't have to wait long, though; soon, his aunt was trying to open the door. He, however, pulled her in before she could even try and closed the door behind them. The door from the inside was the same as in his real house, so he instantly locked it and slid the security chain.
"Dorian? What are you doing here?"
He heard his aunt call out to him. It was only when the spotlight that followed her hit him that he noticed he indeed had a body, well, at least close to the same one he had in real life.
Except something felt off. It was as if he was a little thicker than usual. His clothes were also perfect, not something he would choose for himself, though, so it must mean that his body right now is the one that his aunt created for him in this dream.
He did not resist the change, though; he was far more concerned about his aunt in front of him, who looked worried.
"Yes? Hi Aunt Becca. Anyways, we should be safe here, right?"
Dorian certainly hoped so. He pulled her away from the door and into the living room. He, however, looked out the window real quick. Even if it was dark, he did not notice anyone outside.
"Right? What are you doing here, though, Dorian? I was… what was I doing?"
His aunt quickly took a seat, seemingly lost in thought.
"You… were about to help me clean? We were supposed to finish the guest room, right?"
Dorian tried to quickly change the subject. He did not hear the banging on the door or see someone outside, so at least that meant that he somehow influenced the dream here. He just needed to keep at it and experiment more to see what he could do in this place Yamir called the Dreamworld.
"Right! We needed those places cleaned up and ready for the new tenants... How could I forget!"
His aunt suddenly stood up. Dorian quickly turned outside and noticed the dark street suddenly gained light, as if it were noon.
He turned back to check on his aunt and noticed that she looked just as lovely as she did in her room a few minutes ago, back to the version of her real body.
"Good, let's get to it then?"
Dorian took that as a good thing, though, wondering if it was really fine to change things like this, but at least she wasn't having the awful nightmare right now.
"Yes, I think we should start with the room upstairs. It seemed to be the one with the least amount of things to do."
Dorian followed his aunt upstairs and entered the old room with a lot of junk all over the place. She was already hard at work as if her life depended on it.
"I wonder if she is doing this to distract herself from her nightmare…"
Dorian got to work as well. He began to clear out junk, placing most of the trash in a nearby bag, wondering if this was how a normal dream should be.
"Hey… Aunt Becca, I think I am almost done. I only need to move the bed a little to see if there is anything behind the headboard."
Dorian did not know why he had to clean a room in a dream, but if it helped his aunt think about something else beside her husband, then it was all good, or so he guessed. It was then that he felt someone's gaze on him—a familiar feeling he had been getting a few times in the last few days.
He tried to be quick about it, but he looked over towards his aunt's face. It was her again. She did not look away as she usually did, though.
"I wonder why, though?"
Dorian moved the bed easily, probably even more than how he would have in real life. He even felt like he could toss it to the side like a pillow. He did not, though; he was more focused on his aunt's gaze.
That is when it hit him: why was he acting like this was real life? Here, it was all a dream, and what did he come here for?
"Hey, Aunt Becca, could you help me sweep this part up?"
Dorian called out to her. She quickly gathered herself.
"Ah, right! I got the broom right here!"
Dorian chuckled slightly, but he did not let this chance just slip away. He needed to get bolder if he was going to make any progress here, and he did not know how much time he had.
He quickly took off his shirt and waited to see his aunt's reaction.
"There, you can put it back now."
Oblivious to his actions, his aunt turned back only to see him shirtless.
"What are you doing, Dorian!"
"Pretty sure this room doesn't have air conditioning like the rest of the rooms. I was just too hot to continue working with my shirt on."
Dorian slowly pulled the bed back, noticing once again his aunt's stare.
"Guess you liked it, aunty… maybe I can try moving this forward a little more."
"I guess we are done here?"
Dorian asked, walking toward her, wondering how she would react.
"I think so… I really need a bath now."
He noticed she tried to take a step back but stayed in place in the end.
"Same here, but before we go, how about we rest on the bed a little? It was a lot of work." Dorian said, trying to imitate Yamir's best voice to try riling up her feelings.
His aunt looked a little flustered this time but did as he said without another word.