Travelling was tiring, especially when Trojan hadn't the slightest clue where Knights of Eden had been at first, so he kept randomly teleporting around, trying to find it. It was worth it - he could rest now, if he wanted - but it tired him out both physically and mentally. He had to use more than one power at a time for an extended period of time. Usually when he did that, he was also fighting some random guy, an enemy, and this time he hadn't been doing that, so there was nothing to distract him from his usual pains. There was no muscle fatigue from fighting.
With a small sigh, Trojan would trot through the castle, looking through each room, walking around without a significant purpose, letting his feet bring him wherever they wanted to bring him. There were so many empty rooms - it was such a large castle - but for some reason so far, none of them would work well for Trojan. His feet finally led him to a larger room, shelves on the wall, a bookshelf, a paint-splattered bed with white sheets that matched. On the walls hung paintings. Clusters of animals, all sitting outside the castle, looking towards the front, some smiling, some not. They all looked natural, and it sent pangs through the male's stomach, and he didn't know why. Padding in further, Trojan would touch the painting with his talons, names fluttering through his head quickly. Hazel, Bastille, Bardolph, Avarice, Sutton, Aster, Ratvision, Littlescout. There were so many that went through him, so quickly, and his eyes found each one of them on the painting. Kissingkit. That was the last name, and it sent more pangs towards him, this time through his heart. There was something significant about the flower-covered calico princess, and the male couldn't figure out what it was. It was confusing.
With a small sigh, Trojan chose this room. It seemed to be occupied, but something told him that it wasn't, something told him that this room was his now - had always been his. Moving to the bed, the griffin would go under the covers and lie down, a small lump in the paint-smelling bed, under the covers, a yawn leaving his beak, and he was asleep for the first time since leaving his home.
Just like all his dreams before, the ground was covered in mist, though the last time Trojan had seen this much mist was when his dream had suddenly take a turn for the worse and had shown his father lying on he ground, only to soon be chopped up in little pieces by a small shadow figure. Breath becoming rapid, he'd take a few steps forward, looking for something familiar, something to tell him what was going to happen, only to realize that he wasn't in the small room that he had been in last time, but out in a field of the mist, seemingly floating... no, he was standing there, in the air.
A figure the same size of his griffin body came out of the shadows, and Trojan would blink. It was an ocelot, followed by an orange tabby cat and then a grey cat with fire and blood coming out of one socket, the rest of his body licked with small flames. Breathing, the male would look towards them, curious as to what was going on, before the first one spoke.
"My name is Warpaint." He'd speak, blinking and looking towards the tabby cat at once, watching him as he spoke.
"I am Tunnelkit." The young tabby would speak, turning towards the last one to arrive.
"I am Romanpaw." The last one would speak, looking towards Trojan.
"I am them, and they are me." The ocelot would speak, looking towards Trojan with interested eyes, "I was the first, then I died. Tunnelkit was my reincarnation, and then he died, in the very room you chose as your own this night. He came back and took the name Romanpaw, and then killed himself." He'd offer a small smile towards Trojan as the male watched and listened, seemingly confused. "All will be explained overtime... it'll be sudden and quick, but you will learn."
At once the three merged together into Romanpaw, and the male would pad forward, until he was right in front of Trojan. "I was broken, and you need to help fix me." And suddenly the fire in the feline's socket would burst into flame more, and he'd offer a smirk towards Trojan, right before walking forward once more, and into the male's body, into his soul once more.
Screaming in pain, Trojan would look around, tears in his eyes from how much it had hurt. He'd never felt pain such as that before, never in any battles, never before in any of his dreams before. And that's when it all started. With the message done and gone, the griffin started to feel the air rush around him. Looking down, he'd see himself falling towards the ground, and he'd try to teleport up higher to get his wings open, to land safer, but no matter what he did, he couldn't move his body, and when he teleported, he only did so closer to the ground.
His powers weren't working properly.
Getting closer and closer to the ground, he'd close his eyes and let out a scream.
An inch above the ground in his sudden nightmare, Trojan would wake up screaming, once more as he had done so long ago. Tears filled his eyes, and he was on the ground of the castle, out of the bed, the sheet s flung around him haphazardly. Realizing what all was happening, Trojan would struggle for breath as he sobbed once, trying to keep calm. It was only a dream, it couldn't be anything more.
Finally getting free from the sheets, the griffin would teleport to the hallway, looking back behind him into the room he had claimed, watching as he saw three shadows move around, reenacting their deaths. The larger of the three - the oceleot, Warpaint - laid down in the bed, writhing around in pain, black blood seeping onto the sheets as he was attacked by the rouges that killed him. The second largest - Romanpaw - would sit in the corner, hunched over and sobbing right before bringing his paws up and slashing at himself, his chest, his neck, until he toppled over, dead, the same black blood seeping from his own wounds. And then the last one, Tunnelkit, he would lie down next to the ocelot in the bed, only to writhe around and fall out of it, just as Trojan had done just moments before. He'd stumble around the room and run into the easel, a shadowy can of paint toppling over and falling on top of the small thing, suffocating him the rest of the way until he died.
Backing away until he was against the wall, Trojan would blink and the scene would be gone, everything in its place. The only difference was the water that slowly seeped from the doorway, leading towards the male as he jumped onto a windowsill, flooding the hallway. The former BloodClanner would topple over on the sill, covering his eyes with his talons as he got as small as he could, ears flattening against his head as his fur and feathers rose along his spine, and the spirit that merged with his soul took over part of his body, tried to keep away from the water. He'd whimper and croak out a very small 'help' that couldn't be heard unless one had super senses.
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