The Weight of a Forbidden Dream
The powerlessness I had felt back then—knowing even in my dreams that I was trapped—still burned vividly inside me. The moment I had refused Nefetia’s outstretched hand….
Arkin Seilir paced restlessly through the bedroom, unable to tear himself free from the nightmare that seemed to tighten its grip with every passing hour. How much longer before he could escape this hell?
He stepped across the cold stone floor, circled the bed again and again, then dropped his head in defeat. Sleep had lost all power over him. He no longer had the strength to close his eyes.
Honestly, by now the only conclusion he could reach was that his divine oracle had been tampered with. Believing in his own innocence felt like a futile punishment. It was clear the gods had cast a curse upon him.
The phenomenon surrounding the nightmares had grown sharper with each day, and lately a chilling pattern had begun to emerge.
First, the nightmares grew stronger.
Second, at the end the one who appeared was always Nefetia, reaching out a hand.
Third, if Arkin refused her help, he would be executed without fail.
Fourth, if he managed to fall asleep again, the nightmare would simply repeat from the beginning.
Fifth, Arkin had learned a way to avoid the nightmares—but….
The prince squeezed his eyes shut. Should he ask for Necromansia?
Asking the prince of Solinar for forbidden sleeping herb would leave the priest bewildered, but right now it seemed the only option left. Though consumption of sleep-inducing herbs was banned in certain regions, perhaps a little could still be found. There was no other choice….
“Ha….”
For tonight, he had to decide how to endure it. The longer he waited, the more anxiety clawed at his chest. Outside the window, the moon slowly tilted westward. Dawn was only a few hours away, and he desperately wanted to avoid this nightmare, curl up in deep sleep, and finally taste rest. It was unbearable.
Arkin leaned against the small table beside the bed. His hand unconsciously brushed his thigh. Hesitating, he stroked the fabric, then finally lowered his palm, leaving it hovering awkwardly before slamming it onto the table.
Damn it. Damn it….
But in this moment, he had no choice.
***
One cold winter dawn.
It was the time when Arkin Seilir was still a young boy.
The prince awoke with a strange sensation. The bedding and clothes were soaked. Darkness still cloaked the room, so he could not see clearly, but he felt instinctively that something was terribly wrong.
“Eh….”
Startled, the prince sat up in the bed. In the dim moonlight, trembling fingers lifted the blanket slightly, then he touched the wet spot. Terror flooded through him.
It seemed related to the dream he had just had. A beautiful girl with black hair….
He had kissed her, and then this….
Arkin shuddered in fear. If he had dreamed something shameful and now this had happened, would he lose his place as the prince’s heir? What if someone found out? He could not tell Father. Absolutely not….
In the darkness, he stripped off his damp nightclothes and bundled the sheets tightly. Even as his breath steamed in the cold, the boy moved desperately. He pulled out a fresh nightgown, hid the ruined bedding beneath the bed, curled into a small ball, and buried his face in his knees.
Now what? Worry crept in with every passing minute. The room brightened gradually, but he had no excuse ready for the sheets he had hidden.
When daylight fully came, the maids would clean the room and change the bedding…. Everything would be exposed.
‘What to do… what to do….’
Arkin hugged his knees, body shaking. He had never once broken the rules. He had lived his entire life to become the perfect prince of Solinar. What would happen if he could not become king? What would become of him if he were exiled from Solinar?
Knock. Knock.
The sound of knocking startled the prince nearly senseless. There was nowhere to run. Eyes darting, the door opened and his nanny entered.
“Your Highness, it is time for meditation by the ice lake. Today is a day of physical training.”
Arkin could not answer. His heart was burning black.
“Your Highness? What is wrong?”
The lantern flickered, casting bright light onto his tightly shut eyelids.
“Your Highness, open your eyes!”
The nanny shook his shoulders urgently. Afraid she might summon others, Arkin finally opened his eyes. The moment he met the kind, gentle eyes of his nanny, tears welled up and spilled over.
“Nanny….”
“Oh my, Your Highness!”
The elderly nanny’s face twisted in confusion. She quickly set the lantern on the table and took Arkin’s hands in hers.
“What happened? Are you feeling ill?”
“I… I feel strange. Like I have caught a disease.”
His voice trembled as he pointed at the bedding he had hidden beneath the bed.
“Keep it a secret. I… I had a terrible dream. And when I woke up….”
At that moment, a gentle smile spread across the nanny’s face. Realizing the situation, she brushed her gray hair aside and stroked the prince’s face warmly.
“Ah, our prince.”
“It is all right, Your Highness. That is not a disease. All boys experience this. You are becoming a fine man.”
Arkin was bewildered. Had he done something wrong? Would Father be disappointed in him?
“I understand your worry. But, Your Highness, this is truly no sin. If it was your fault, then punish yourself.”
The nanny deliberately sliced the air in front of her own throat to imitate punishment, but Arkin could not shake off his fear and shame.
“But, Nanny, I am not an ordinary boy. I seem to have committed some great mistake. Father and Mother live for each other as a perfect pair. Before I even have a consort… this…”
The nanny’s expression grew uncertain. She let out a long sigh, gently stroked Arkin’s face, and repeatedly tried to comfort and reassure the young prince. It would take a long time for the child to finally relax and step forward toward becoming a king.
“Arkin, your body’s reaction is natural. You are becoming a man.”
The king spoke with sincere congratulations to Arkin. He had finally reached the point where he was ready to truly become a man of Solinar, and it was now time to master his body and deepen his mind.
“Listen carefully, Arkin. From now on, you must restrain your physical desires to the extreme and walk the path of transcendence. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Father.”
Arkin nodded solemnly.
***
The men of Solinar endured carnal impulses, limited their speech, and trained to control ejaculation.
Even in the presence of a beloved consort, an erect body must be carefully concealed, and if the consort did not desire it, extinguishing the heat of the body was also considered a virtue.
Therefore, the sight of Arkin Seilir—son of the future successor to the throne of Solinar—trembling helplessly with his heated manhood uncontrolled was the greatest disgrace imaginable.
“Hah… hah…”
Exhausted, Arkin pressed his forehead against the cold wall and groaned. Even after one release, his manhood remained stubbornly erect, as if it were an endlessly growing creature.
Should he have endured the terrifying nightmare or gone mad from sleeplessness all night? He did not know which was worse. He breathed deeply, hoping the heat would simply leave him, but it was useless. His throat burned while his lower abdomen ached unbearably. Even the slightest brush of fabric against the hypersensitive tip of his manhood made his whole body tremble.
Touch me! Hold me! Shake me now!
A massive club called out silently. Arkin staggered to the bed, grabbed the sheets, and stared at the ceiling.
The long, thick manhood, its shadow falling over his navel, rose toward the heavens and twitched up and down. Looking at the heavy weight pressing down on his lower body made him feel utterly defeated.
Ah, please. Just once would have been enough. Why does this keep happening…?
Arkin curled his body slightly and moaned. He forced his unwrinkled, massive frame into an awkward ball and shook his chin uncontrollably.
Unlike his overwhelming appearance, Arkin’s member was endlessly sensitive. Even the slightest touch could trigger an explosive release at any moment.
The moment the heated, blunt tip, its smooth skin, brushed against the sheet.
“Hah…!”
A chill ran down his spine. His knees buckled and his vision spun. An inexperienced, pure body responded obediently to even the faintest stimulation.
“Ah… please…”
Arkin rolled his body, sweating coldly. He felt like he would break. His mind devoured itself. ‘Arkin. Why do you suffer like this? You could just do it. Even after solving it in the bath, why do you keep doing this? Stop punishing yourself.’
The room was silent, filled only with the scent of burning lamp oil. Small square room. Nefetia’s laughter popped like bubbles, touching his eardrums. She stepped closer, wrapped her arms around him, and whispered tenderly, her hot breath brushing his reddened ear.
‘No one will know. Only I will.’
Arkin stared blankly into the empty air, then—without realizing—glanced around the dark bedroom. Yes, no one… but…
‘Why are you worried? No one even knows what you are doing.’
Arkin’s eyes squeezed shut. The muscles in his jaw tightened from clenching his teeth.
What he was truly worried about… was that this would not end with just an ejaculation. That he would lose control of his desire….
He swallowed painfully with a dry throat. Even when gripping a sword or pulling a heavy bowstring, his huge hands had never once trembled. Now they shook violently.
His hand slowly slid downward.