"--ke up..."
A voice hollowed in the distance, missed by the endlessly vast black surrounding Rowan.
He was floating--no, soaring, the expanse carrying him along its back to allow his mind to wander free of sensation. It was gratifying, a lucid dream that offered him all the peace and quiet he wished.
Knock, knock, knock!
"Wake up!"
Rowan's eyes jolted open, his torso flinging out from under his sheets to leave him uncovered with no shirt on.
He nervously turned his attention from the door to his removed shirt laying just a few feet from him, the heat from last night clinging to his memory like sweat.
"What?"
"Get up, Sir Rowan, you and the other heroes will undergo your commencements shortly!"
A deep pit formed in his stomach, the cold sweat trailing down his cheek turning warm as he looked out upon the sky that peeked over the royal garden, its glow dim like an early morning's sunrise.
"This early," he asked, rubbing his eyes to acclimate to the new light impacting his retinas, "and without warning? Can't this wait an hour or two?"
There wasn't even a single breath of hesitation or pause in the man's voice, yearning for the door to unlock.
"No, it cannot! There are thousands of people waiting to see your faces, and it would be an utmost shame if one of you were to miss their own parade because they wanted to sleep in.
Rowan's eyebrows furrowed, his hands shaking along the sheets at the mention of the word, 'parade'.
"Wait, a parade? Like, a mass event held to celebrate something?"
Although Rowan couldn't see him, he could tell through the man's pause and the halt of his banging against the door that he'd been almost dumbfounded at his question.
"Are you seriously--yes, we like to celebrate quite a bit in this kingdom. And what better celebration than the arrival of the heroes who will offer us solace from the fracturing Way? Do parades... not exist in your world?"
Rowan didn't bother to answer the question, his face blush in pink from the embarrassment.
"So why have I not heard of this parade earlier--"
"Sir, could we please talk about this on the way there? There really is no time to spare."
In response to his words, Rowan shuffled through his covers, his shirt trailing along with him as he slowly put his arms, then head through its holes.
Carefully retrieving his shoes and change of clothes, he pushed down on the button placed on the handle, turning the door's hinges to reveal the person behind it.
It was a tall, affable man, clean black hair covering his scalp and a groomed goatee cleanly shaven along his chin. He had an inviting facial shape that reminded Rowan of the nice uncles of his world who got along well with their nieces and nephews.
"Ah, is there something on my face," the man asked, opening his eyes in genuine inquisition.
"N-no, sorry, I didn't mean to stare. You just reminded me of somebody I know."
The man only smiled in response, turning his head and shoulders to face the same hallway that led to the main dining hall where the heroes had feasted.
"Well, then, shall we make our way down to the castle gates?"
Rowan nodded, diverting his gaze to the side of his hip. There, he clawed at a department of his soul he'd only grown accustomed to once he teleported to this world, feeling for the knowledge it offered him.
With a quieted hrrrmmmmm, his grimoire lit up, the bright, white light from the previous night resonating with it.
'So it wasn't a dream,' he thought, turning back in front of him to watch for the guard's back carefully.
"So, what exactly is this parade," Rowan continued, looking down at unclean plates still laden with leftovers of meat and vegetables. It was unsightly, his mind wandering for questions such as, 'does this place have cleaners?'
"That is not for me to answer. It appears I have spoken more than I needed to, as it was the king's own proclamation that he inform you of your commencement."
Rowan's eyes narrowed with suspicion, his gaze meeting the many ends and crevices of the palace still left largely unexplored.
He glanced once again at his grimoire floating beside him. If this were some ploy to kill him or do away with him, he wouldn't have much defense against it.
The silence between the two stretched as far as the hallway, the scrutiny in Rowan's eyes slowly falling the closer and closer they got to its end.
Finally, they stood before a gallant hulk of a door, equipped with two creatures wreathed in black covers holding out their scythes to cross each other.
It towered in the hundreds of feet, the mass beneath it held only by special steel flooring that stuck out against the usual concrete.
Beyond this, though, was the light peering through its crack, suggesting that the door was open.
"Well, this is it. Go on, Sir, I'll follow behind you."
Rowan's eardrums crackled against the enthralled cheers of the people standing beneath the castle grounds as far as he could see.
He, the heroes, and the king stood on a large platform, connected to the ground only by one staircase, its peak closed off by a large, stone gate.
It's floor was garnished with a long red carpet--a large gold streak bordering its perimeter, providing the platform and staircase with the same lavish ambience that laced the interior of the castle.
Ahead of that was the kingdom, its symmetry blinding and beauty silencing.
Too perfect.
There were thousands of houses paced equally amongst each other, each house made with smooth pavement walls and blood red bricks stacking to form roofs, 30-foot tall trees and well-kempt bushes fully completing both the Mediterranean climate and architecture that this world seemed to possess.
"He--roes! He--roes! He--roes!"
The crowd's roars were deafening, a loud pop sizzling through Rowan's hearing like the popping of bubbles in his face.
Instinctually, he covered his ears as well as he could with both hands, allowing him at least the chance to look up at the king who was talking.
"Now that the five of you have made it here, I believe it's about time we begin this commencement."