What is death? Everyone learns about it from a young age. Is it the idea that you no longer exist? When you fade into nothingness, never to live again? Some believe in reincarnation, others believe that death is the end. For Dream, it's not so simple.

Dream has lived a long, Fae life― he's still living it. A couple centuries old, but still young, Dream is notorious for his line of work. He was once foolish and rebellious, but now, he knows better than to make mistakes.

You could call him an assassin, a mercenary, a hitman, whichever one, it doesn't matter. What mattered was that Dream did his job and he was good at it.

He had a dark past, one that he no longer thinks about. It didn't matter anymore, Dream was practically immortal. What was the point of dwelling on the past when he had a job to complete?

Speaking of his job, Dream now approached his target; a middle aged human who had been getting on Dream's boss's nerves. Dream stalked down the alley, unsheathing a long dagger. The man stumbled drunkenly forward, oblivious to the predator behind him.

Dream was usually given a specific method to eliminate his target, but this time he was just told to take him out. Fast or slow, painfully or peacefully, Dream's boss didn't care. Dream typically would've taken his time with men like this one, a perverted sadist who owed money to several bars and gambling clubs, but that night he was feeling irritated and a little annoyed. That being said, Dream really wanted to do his job and get some rest after weeks of travelling.

The drunk man suddenly became aware of the stalking presence behind him and gasped, raising his grubby hands in defense, "Who are you?!"

Dream tilted his head, his masked face not visible beneath the hood of his cloak. He lifted his dagger and pushed the man to the wall, holding the blade to his throat.

The target's eyes widened at the eerie mask staring down at him and sputtered, "Don't do this! I-I have money! I can pay you more than your boss!"

"Your filthy human money is worthless to me," Dream replied coldly.

"How about gold? Silver? Anything!"

Dream chuckled and tsked, "I don't think so."

And with that he slit the man's throat, a quick slice that killed him within seconds. Dream stepped out of the way of the blood and strode away, not watching as the man's body fell onto the cobblestone pavement. He grabbed a shirt hanging from someone's clothesline and wiped his dagger clean, sheathing it back into his boot and tossing the shirt to the street.

His leather boots made little noise as he walked out of the small city, taking him towards a light on a nearby hill. His presence made people scatter as he walked; Dream always made himself look as threatening as possible, he didn't want people approaching him.

A tall, hooded man, clad in dark boots, a forest green cloak, and black clothes, with an unseen mask below the hood, always scared people off. Dream didn't bother to wear armor, he had no need for it.

He made his way up the hill, heading towards a midnight carnival being held. A random festivity that people would come to get drunk, have fun, or just play some games. Dream headed into a tent, ignoring the strange looks cast his way.

He approached the temporary bar that was set up and took a seat, motioning for the bartender to get him something strong. Moments later, a drink was in his hand and a silver coin was being tossed out of his other. Eyes snapped to him as the sparkle of the silver was flicked out and the bartender pocketed it immediately. In villages like this one, silver was scarce, gold even more so.

Dream held the drink in his gloved hand, not making a move to drink it. With his mask on, it wouldn't have been possible to drink, however, no one in the tent could see the mask because it was covered by the shadow of the hood of his cloak. Dream smirked at the thought of what he looked like, a mysterious foreign stranger, clearly rich and deadly by the looks of a long, sheathed sword hanging from his jeweled belt.

The two seats on either side of him were empty, every other seat at the bar full. The glances sent his way were painfully obvious, but Dream didn't mind. Let them stare.

Fae like him weren't common, much less those with powers. Dream rarely used his, he didn't see a point. He had the ability to control someone's unconscious thoughts by providing them with dreams or terrorizing them with nightmares. It was ironic because he couldn't control his own dreams or nightmares, which is one of the reasons he slept as little as possible. Dream had a whole other range of skills that he could use at his disposal.

To the human eye, it was easy to distinguish a Faerie from mortal. With pointed ears and a slight glow that could only be described as other, the Fae were something not human. But since a dark green hood covered Dream's ears, it was impossible to know what he was.

Dream was about to leave the bar when someone sat beside him. Although the person beside him couldn't see, Dream raised an eyebrow, not turning to look at the newcomer. He glanced out of the corner of his eye and spotted a young man, maybe around twenty years old.

The brown-haired man didn't hide his stare as he turned to Dream curiously. His different colored eyes made Dream blink in surprise. His clothes were plain, but clearly made from fine fabric, suggesting that the man was wealthy. And when Dream saw the gold brooch hiding between the folds of his shirt, he knew exactly what the man was. The prince plopped his chin on his hand and peered at Dream, studying him.

"You're staring," Dream muttered.

"I know."

Dream noted his accent, one that he wasn't familiar with. When the man didn't stop staring, Dream held in a sigh and pushed his chair back. He got up and left another silver coin on the counter, leaving the tent moments later.

He walked past the men juggling swords and fiery sticks and ignored the women who claimed to be sorcerers and seers. Dream scoffed; he'd know a real seer if he saw one. He headed out of the carnival, accomplishing nothing with his visit.

"You didn't finish your drink," the accented voice called.

Dream stopped at the edge of the forest and turned his head to look over his shoulder. Behind him stood the same brown-haired prince, waiting for a response.

"What's it to you?" Dream asked.

The man shrugged, "I would think that a Faerie would have better things to do than visit some shitty carnival."

"I would think the same of a prince."

The man blinked, not surprised at Dream's observation, and gave Dream a curious stare. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Dream walked off, disappearing into the forest. He had better things to do than talk with a human.

He was slightly intrigued that the prince was able to identify the fact that he wasn't mortal, but he didn't let that thought stay too long in his mind. Dream stopped walking at the sight of a familiar cat stalking towards him.

Dream crouched down and muttered a greeting, "Hey, Ant."

The shapeshifter strode up to Dream in his cat form, a message dangling from his neck. Antfrost was one of Dream's coworkers. He was mortal, but not human, and the only form he could switch in to was that of a cat.

A leather necklace was always worn around the shapeshifter's neck. A necklace, with a small red gem at the center, tied to the leather. Dream had never commented on it, but Antfrost never failed to have it around his neck, in both his human and cat form.

Dream gently untied the message from Ant's neck and stood up, unravelling the scroll. Ant bounded back into the forest, not having said a word. It was routine; whenever Dream completed a job, Ant would deliver a new job for him to complete.

The idea would sound boring to some, but Dream learned to enjoy it. He loved travelling across many lands and doing his job. Sometimes his boss required the target to be brought in alive, but most of the time, Dream was supposed to kill them.

Dream had grown up as this... assassin, if you'd like to call him that. His family was all dead, along with his former lover, but Dream never thought of that. His boss had saved Dream from dying and, in turn, Dream had to spend a large portion of his life working for him.

He didn't like his boss. There was history between them, something that Dream had shut out for many years and wasn't about to start thinking about it again.

Dream's life mission was to find out how his family died and he would finally be able to in just ten years. Ten more short years and then he'd be free. He could taste his freedom on his tongue, the possibility of finding out the truth.

But until then, Dream had a job to do.

He unraveled the worn paper and read his boss's scrappy scrawl, sighing. It was going to be an interesting job. Sometimes, his assignments took as long as a few years to complete, others took only an hour. This one would take many months, depending on if the target would comply.

It was one of those rare missions, one where Dream had to bring the target back alive, making the journey back longer and more annoying. Luckily, the target was nearby.

Dream smirked cockily at the challenge, he would have to bring back a pyrokinetic. How interesting. He'd only met one before, someone who could create and manipulate fire with their mind. The target was mortal, giving Dream a clear advantage, but still, it would be tough for Dream to bring the target back alive.

Dream crumpled the paper and stuffed it into one of his pockets, heading back into the carnival, where the target was supposedly at. He entered the largest tent, remaining hidden behind bleachers where villagers were sitting, eagerly watching the events.

A raven-haired man stood in the center of the circular stage, fire dancing at his fingertips. The flames relinquished and he tightened the white bandana wrapped around his head, taking a deep breath. Every torch, lantern, and pyre in the tent went dark, the tent descending into darkness. There were gasps and shouts from both children and adults alike, before the light returned moments later.

The crowd clapped and Dream's target bowed, waving his fingers, flames flickering atop them. Dream chuckled at the man's bold smirk, a challenge to anyone in the audience. He left the stage and exited the tent swiftly, having completed his turn in the spotlight.

Dream paused for a moment, watching as the next act set up on stage. He sighed and left the tent, following his target.

His Fae ears caught onto some rustling and a shout. He walked slowly, sneaking behind a stack of crates as he watched a scene unfold before him.

"Give me your money," the pyrokinetic hissed, approaching a familiar person.

The prince from before paled, his eyes widening as he stammered, "I-I don't have any money."

"Liar," the raven-haired man spat, "I can tell by your clothes that you're wealthy, just give me anything you have on you."

"I said I don't have anything!"

Dream watched as his target's fingers lit up, nearing the prince's face. The pyrokinetic sneered, "You don't want your pretty face messed up, do you?" At the prince's wide eyes and frozen limbs, the man continued with a low laugh, "Now do as I say."

Dream sighed and stepped from behind the crates. His target turned around and scrunched his nose, "Who the hell are you?"

Dream chuckled darkly and said, "Your worst nightmare."

His target didn't get a chance to reply because Dream approached him in one quick movement and applied pressure to a specific spot on the man's neck. He fell to the ground, losing consciousness. Dream held back a sigh and didn't bother to look at the prince, who was still standing frozen.

Dream tied the man's wrists with a rope that wouldn't hold the pyrokinetic for long. Dream would have to use his power to keep him unconscious. The thought made Dream scowl, but he begrudgingly lifted the man and swung him over his shoulders.

He merely glanced at the prince before leaving, starting his long journey back.

"Wait!" the prince shouted.

Dream ignored him and continued through the maze of tents and gypsies and villagers. The brown-haired prince pursued him, taking up a fast pace beside Dream.

"What are you doing with him?"

"None of your business," Dream muttered.

"Can I come with you?"

The question made Dream stop, scoffing at the prince in front of him, "No."

"Why not?"

"Because you have no business in what I do," Dream replied.

"I can help you," the prince offered, "since you helped me."

"No."

Dream walked past him and into the woods, the prince jogging to catch up with him.

"Let me come with―"

Dream turned around and performed the same maneuver he did with the man on his shoulder. The prince fell to the ground, unharmed. It wouldn't take him long to wake up, but when he did, Dream would be long gone.