The travel by foot had taken them more than a day for them to finally arrive at the city. Head bowed and shielded by the thick, heavy material of his cloak, Jinki ignored the faint murmurs of the city folk as they congregated in the safe bubble of their cliques, pointing and gossiping not so discreetly about him.

        A witch.

        That was what he was. The corners of his lips tugged as the image of Kibum’s scoff and eye roll came to his mind. Forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing. There was a hint of amusement in the thought; loosely quoting words from the scriptures the city folk clung to for salvation.

        It had been this way for as long as he remembered. Granted, his kind -- the ones who wielded magic, the Gifted -- were no longer burned at the stake simply for existing, but it did not mean the others accepted them. After all, it was human nature to fear the unknown.

        Despite so, Jinki could not find it in himself to blame them. A year after his first dream dive, he began devoting himself to his studies and research. The witch -- or Dream Walker, a title he preferred -- eventually moved to the forest at the outskirts of the city. It was a strategic location far enough from the prying eyes of curious people but close enough for him to get supplies from merchants if he ever required them.

        Five years has passed since then, but it wasn’t necessarily lonely. A few months after settling down, Jinki had befriended a wild, lone fox named Kibum whom he later signed a contract with as his familiar. With his sly wit, Kibum acted as his eyes and ears, keeping Jinki updated with the latest gossips and happenings of the city.

        Which was the reason why the elusive Dream Walker was now on his way to the Palace, where a certain Prince lay in an accursed, death-like sleep.

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        “You are the infamous Witch of Dreams, Onew?” The King’s deep baritone boomed across, his eyes narrowing at the young male that stood in the middle of the throne room, unaffected by the aura of intimidation most would have cowered before.

        “I am,” was the brunette reply, warm brown orbs staring unflinchingly back into cold raven ones. The hushed whispers of the court grew in volume, only to be silenced by a wave of the King’s hand.

        “You claim to be able to wake the Prince from this curse.” It was a statement, not a question.

        “Well, technically, I didn’t say that.” Jinki pointed out, correcting the King. “I said I would enter whatever dream the Prince is having, talk to him and find out whatever this curse is. Then maybe break the curse, depending on what it is. For all we know, maybe the Prince likes his sleep.” He added the last sentence in a faint, wistful murmur.

        Not everyone is like you. A snarky scoff echoed in his mind, causing Jinki’s gaze to flicker towards Kibum -- or at least, who he thinks is Kibum, whom he assumes has disguised himself as one of the countless ladies of the court.

        “And give me a reason why I should t