The Curse & the Dreamer...I feel this story ought not to be told, but it was asked for regarding what Mages need to know.
Know this. Dreamers? Sky & Space? ...that is the most powerful, dangerous, and frightening path to me. Read on, and don't judge. It could have happened to you. - Aven
P.S. For the most part, I've kept the tone in the present tense while in the Dreaming.
November 3rd, 1010
You 'awaken' in a dark place. It's not one of 'evil' or even a general sense of foreboding. When most are in the dark, they fear. But not you. You understand the dark. One must stand in the dark. And you stand, and you begin to walk forward.
So what if you have been sent here. Again. It wouldn't be the first time. You'd prefer it would be the last, but... the Realms was and is and continues to be a strange place. And you continue to walk. In this darkness, you walk. No fear. Although, you do wonder what sent you here this time. You couldn't remember. Upset about something? Well, you have been more easily flustered recently, but there's was no one to blame but yourself. Right? I mean, usually the reason why you're here, why you end up here, is because of some stupid move you made.
Well, not all of them were stupid. Like that time you had to sweet talk two trolls out of making a green adventurer dinner, and then your Second Chance backfired. Granted, you knew that could happen when you took the tome and learned that spell... you just didn't expect it to backfire that hard. Come to think of it, that spell had been back-firing a lot more lately. Ending up in another plane, waking up alive but still finding a dagger through your chest, being turned into a demi-god for a night, possessions... the list goes on and on. Maybe somebody keeps Skewing you at gatherings. That had to be it. ...nah, was most likely just your fault, or bad timing.
...Bad timing. Wait, that made sense. A little bit, you think as you continue to walk. There was someone with bad timing. Was it you? Probably. ...or was it him? Her? No, wait. Definitely a her. There was... a discussion? An argument? A fight? Well, most people could certainly take you in a fight. You have a way with words, surely, but a fight-- wince -- You're injured? Why are you injured?
You glance down at yourself, still not seeing anything, but know that you're still looking down as your walk comes to a stop. If there was a fight, there wasn't much of one from your end. Taking your hands and placing one over your rib cage and the other on your opposite shoulder, you feel tight bandages. No, no, you definitely could not have been in a fight. Not like this.
But there was a tower, right? And some girl in a tower... had to talk to you? Had to convince you. Of what? Letting go of something. Letting go of what? Was any of this real? Were you dreaming?
Dreaming. You were dreaming. No, wait. You were the dream.
You were told that you... were...
...faded away under her words. Powerful words.
You didn't have the strength to fight back. You didn't have any grip at all. And she made you go away. With the power of words.
Just like that.
...oh. Oh gods. That's what happened. --
But before you can continue with that train of thought, a screeching sound (like a cawing crow or worse) carries across the darkness, and you feel buffeted by wind and wings. And you begin to run, painful as it is. This isn't the darkness you know. This isn't what you remember it to be. And fear consumes you as you cry out, frightened, calling for help.
But who will hear you?
If a dream dissipates in the Dreaming, does it make a sound?
You wake up abruptly, confused and disorientated, sitting up and looking about your area as you shake your head and steady your breath.
...but when you lower your head back down, something sharp pokes the back of your neck, and you retrieve a large black feather.
Altana Cecil sat straight up in bed. "What the hell?!" and she whipped the feather away from her, Banishing it back to the place from whence it came. It poofed into Nothingness as the young Abjurer took deep breaths to return her heart-rate to normal. "...I better check on my girls," she said out-loud to no one as she grabbed her robe off the near-by hook and got out of bed, putting it on hastily as she slid the screen over and padded down the hall.
Telerie poked the fire with the bird feather before giving it another once over. Why did I have this dream? I never remember my dreams...
After staring at it for a while, she shook her head. Ill omen... things are not supposed to appear from the place of dreams...
And with that, she placed it across her knees and stared into the fire. Was it sent to me by mistake? I don't understand...
You're her squire, but gods cannot get in where you are without becoming physical. They can't risk that, and the warning was sent out. I just carried it along. Think of me as a courier in this case. Besides, one of your own is about to be there, to observe and take matters into his own hands.
Telerie turned, her breath visible. "Is someone there?" she asked nervously.
But no one was, as Aisling returned to her stars to monitor Marduath.
November 4th, 1010.
"We're going into the Dreaming to look for this girl," said Magnus. "Anything I ought to know about how things or people look?"
Sir Amergin shrugged. "White dog's friend."
"Uh-huh, and I'm just me. Faelinn?"
Faelinn mumbled something.
"What was that?"
She sighed. "Silver wolf."
Magnus raised his eyebrows, looked back to Amergin, and shrugged. "I sent a note to Quinn who wants to tag along, but I shall refer to him as 'late'," he chuckled.
There was an awkward pause.
"Well, shall we get to it?" said Amergin.
Usually, when one starts off and are successfully able to get into what some call 'The Dreaming' or become an 'Awakened Sleeper', they tell tales of a field. The weather is usually changing on repeat visits, but there is always a tree in the middle of the field. There is always some type of berry on it (perhaps cherry?). And there is, usually, a large black bird, called Matthew, to caw and stare at people. Especially to stare at their eyes hungrily, waiting.
You wake up, a bit scattered away from each other but generally in the same 'area' or clearing. The sounds here are of song-birds and the like, forest-y sounds, but as you look up... and up... and still further up, you recognize you've never been in a forest this tall before, or this old.
Faelinn has a silver wolf's tail and purple claw marks across her face. On her forehead a black up-turned crescent moon sits, and her delicate elven ears have been swapped out (naturally? unnaturally?) for that of a wolf.
The sky that creeps into vision in and out of the canopy is over-cast, or greyish-white. It's rather chilly here, and definitely day-time.
"Hi." "Hello." "Greetings." "Charmed." comes a chorus of female voices, all the same. And there is one paired off with each dreamer:
Faelinn has a tall gray elf helping her to her feet. She is dressed in a black bodice and dark blue long leather skirt, and while bearing the marks in the face of a feline, her hair is very long and tumbles down around her shoulders in straight lines of silver, black, blue, and gray. She brushes a hand off on her leather skirt. "I didn't think any one would show," she comments off-handedly, and one sees the symbol for Luna emblazoned across her bare arm. Translucent wings of soft blue are attached to her shoulder blades and back, but are folded back and low to the ground.
"I did," says the gray elf dressed as a simple fighter with a Chimeron tabard on, facing away from Magnus to give him some dignity/choice to get dressed. She carries no smile, but a rather long sword & axe strapped to her back. Both bear the personal mark of Eris. She looks more worn that the other elves, and with paler skin. "What I'm wondering, if I may, is why the hell people are interested now instead of earlier, when this first took place."
"All things happen when they need to, not before nor after," adds one dressed more in Achorian-style, in tans and blacks and reds and slight sky blues. "You cannot blame others for everything; if only certain people knew and they chose to do nothing, then hold those ones to it. Not these. They know next to nothing. It is not their fault. They are all new within the past year to her. To us."
This gray elf is holding a large hourglass with blue sands falling down from the top. She has the symbol for Tymora on her chest as a heraldry. She is standing next to Amergin, sandals seeming out of place in this wooded area.
The last one by Quinn, instead of helping him to his feet or giving him any privacy at all, slams herself down next to his body with a giggle. "You're cute. What's your name? Forgive me, I'm new to the party. Well, not new but-- yeah!" and she grins from behind a half-mask made of checkers and diamonds. Her outfit is slinky skin-tight on some parts, and very poofy and garrish on the others. A hat with golden bells and 'skin-make-up' that is obviously painted on to cover the gray skin completes this awful fashion choice.
The Eris-marked one folds her arms across her chest. "I know why we're here, and why we're kept out. But what about you four? Why are you here?"
Amergin looks like per normal, clothed and armored. Weaponry ready - exception being swords of light are up and running. His hands are glowing with light as well. Amergin looks around: "One is missing..." He nods at each of the Iawens but watches carefully. He seems to be looking for something else pensively. He whistles loudly.
Magnus is...well, Magnus. The key difference being that he is wearing Chain mail, Folkstone tabard, and has Rhymer's Oath at his side. There is a streak of blue running down Magnus' hair; a very small one. "Well, I have seen this one before. Hello," he waves to the Tymora Iawen. "Hello, Ladies!" he drops the wave, indicating the rest in the greeting and cracks a smile. "Better late than never?" he adds, looking around. "Where the heck has that girl gotten off to again! She is always the most trouble at the young age. LILY!" Magnus continues looking around. "If she is chasing dream chickens again..."
Amergin looks at Magnus. "I'm not sure but I know who is missing."
"I can tell you why." Faelinn says, as white priest robes materialize on her. She turns to the Luna-marked-Iawen. "The Change stopped being natural and took a turn for the chaotic. Far be it for me to ignore my Mother when She's practically screaming in my ear and Dakran is just echoing what She's saying."
She growls softly. "I hate the Dreaming."
"I forgot, you're more Luna here than Aurora. Works either way for me and the ladies of light," says Magnus as he touches the blue hair, noticing it for the first time. "That's new." He shrugs. "So...um. Four out of five?" he counts on one hand. "Where is the fifth shard?"
Amergin turns so he can see all of the Iawens. "Ladies, you seem to be missing a compatriot. I believe someone called us here."
"No puppy for either of us?" Magnus directs the question at Amergin as he continues to look around in the forested-area. "I figured yours would at least be here...and I expected the Bird spirit too. Not sure I want to say the name."
There is a large 'woof' and a smaller 'yip!' Two dogs bound out from inside a hollowed out tree trunk. One is a large white dog, the other is more a manageable size and seems to be made of light.
Luna-marked 'Iawen' purrs. "Oh, I don't know, one can grow to enjoy it... All set now?" she glances down at Faelinn.
"The fifth... a compatriot-- Oh! The one you all know and have been with these past few years, yes?" The Tymora one lowers the glass to look at each adventurer in turn.
The Eris one tenses up as the dogs trot over to their respective masters, as the Diskordian shard pipes up: "Locked away by a black phoenix with roses. We can't get anywhere near her, so we came to watch the show and hope she's stops fighting soon. I mean, four out of five, we still make a good team set-up, do we not? Who's riding this thing, anyway?"
"You have absolutely no class," snaps the fighter. "How can you possibly say 'four out of five' is good?"
Magnus nods towards the Ladies. "Let's see. Eris...been around Quazar long enough to see that," pointing at the Eris shard. "Tymora?" He nods to to the hourglass Iawen. "Luna," he continues, nodding to the tall cat-lady, then he affixes his gaze over by the very quiet Quinn. "I'm confused by the..umm, one interested in Quinn; but the only ones left are Xaos and Diskordia....I would be Diskordia? That leaves Xaos?....Gods I spend a lot of time in Achoria...between Valas and Quazar. That covers the five--LILY!..and puppy!" he interrupts himself, surprise on his face as he pets his dog. "So where is the other one? Who is fighting?"
Amergin greets T'pulli, his dog, with a broad smile and a hug. He turns at Eris's comment and says, "Where can we find this black phoenix...and is it the person I know as Phee?"
"Phee? This isn't Phoenix-Rose or anything? Just saying. Achoria's been odd," adds Magnus.
Quinn blushes crimson, then pants quickly appear on him. He finishes clothing himself and nods to the girl next to him. He has a small brown wand tucked into his belt at his front and a dagger at his back. He stays very quiet, listening.
At the mention of Phoenix Rose, three out of four tense. The Diskordian blinks, however, a look of slight confusion on her half-face. "Who is that? The mousy one?" She starts to poke Quinn lightly... because she can, apparently.
Luna rolls her eyes. "Yes, the 'mousy one'."
Eris tightens her jaw, looking angry. "That 'mouse' had a lion's roar. I was able to fight her off on Valas's behalf, but she didn't use any words on me. At least, not that I was aware of."
Luna begins to braid her hair as she grins widely with some glinting fangs. "You're not exactly the most ...alert and articulate among us, Sir A, so I doubt if she used any faerie runic magic on you, you'd be effected through sheer obliviousness."
Eris glares at Luna and falls silent.
Tymora simply shrugs, ignoring the word exchange as she begin to answer the questions put forth...and then Magnus calls out to Quinn. "Hello, Late," he directed at the young man. "You're lucky that I listen well to the prince; you almost didn't make it. Also, you are lucky that your Space Bear impersonation is hilarious." He looked around to Faelinn, then Amergin, then to the shard nearest him. "All joking aside, umm, I would assume we want to find the fifth shard. Help Iawen back together and get out of the dreaming...place still gives me the creeps a little."
"OooooOOOOoooo, what's a Space Bear? I wanna see!" Diskordia gets on her knees next to Quinn. "Show me show me show me pleeeeeease?!"
"Now isn't the time for that." The Luna shard, having successfully braided her hair, flips the braids behind her shoulders.
Tymora arches an eyebrow. "May I please continue? ...the other one, Xaos, Iawen, the one you've been with most of the time, has been trapped in the Dreaming by this Phoenix Rose, who also calls herself a dreamer with a capital D(although I do not understand that). While I do have as much information as the rest of us would in the Dreaming, I confess to being perplexed completely about this particular dream-scape or cage. We can't get in; Andromeda's come the closest to sniffing it out and Siap literally stumbled across it once--"
"I was blown wide awake! KA-BOOM!" blurts out the Diskordian shard named Siap.
"...yes." Tymora purses her lips as the Luna shard (identified with a name of Andromeda) shakes her head. "One, don't call me that. Granted, King Pyr did, but no one else did unless I was in Faerie. It's personal. Two, I'm sort of with her," she thumbs to the Diskordian who is now attempt to braid Quinn's hair. "If we can't get to her, how will they? We're not versed in the runic stuff that Phoenix Rose plays with, and she's one of those... oh, what do you call it... Path-takers? herself. If we have to settle for four out of five, let's."
"...no..." mumbles the Eris shard. "It would make his Lay on Hands useless if we all left her behind... and I don't want to leave anyone behind. Even if it is me."
Amergin stops petting T'pulli. "We need to find the Xaos part of Iawen." He looks at the rest of the Iawens. "In all..."(he forces himself to stop and then continues). "Ladies, I believe you all want to be intact more then not, I also believe that not all of you are okay with someone else being in charge of you." He pauses again. "The reality is this we need to get all five of you back to return you to being whole, I have my preference of which of you is in the driver's seat but that may be outside my control. However helping us find your missing 'sister' will only be in your best benefit for now."
"My thoughts exactly, but whatever happens, happens," speaks the Tymora shard (who has given no name for herself yet).
"Hey, if there's five of us, think of all the damage we could do!" giggles Siap, the Diskordian shard. "Of course, Xaos Iawen is a bit of a fuddy-duddy and takes away a lot of our fun."
"Irregardless of which 'shard' is up and running," Andromeda, the Luna shard adds, "I still owe many favors to my Silver Goddess, and I for one intend to keep them. To remind me, she's made me a shifter body. I am to keep this for a year, and seek no cure, as this is not some 'disease'."
Eris shard, called Sir A, remains silent, staring at the ground. Magnus leans in close to her ear. "I called you Sir A, Miss." He then moves away from Sir A, whose expression seems to have softened slightly. "I am done with Phoenix-Rose. She is officially on my list. I could do SOMETHING about the cage if I could invoke some of the runes here; but I am unclear what will happen if I invoke the Defender now that we have declared our intent to have Freesia be that position. I have a feeling that if we get to the cage; I can probably do ...something about it."
Amergin looks at Quinn. "I suggest you make sure someone keeps her hands off you." Amergin looks around and down at T'pulli. "Do you know the way to this dreamscape or cage they are talking about?"
"I, meaning we, all know the general direction, yes. When we get too close, we are sent back," responds Tymora.
Magnus pauses, thinking. "I agree with him," Magnus indicates Amergin with a simple gesture. "We should go to this place."
Amergin looks up Tymora/Iawen. "Which direction do we go?" he asks as Quinn stands up, shaking the braids out of his hair. He nods to Siap and walks over to Amergin, ready to follow. Quinn still stays silent, and the Tymora shard lowers her eyebrow. Magnus narrows his eyes. "Late, why are you not talking? Pack fear no path knowledge?" Faelinn is growling quietly with her ears folded back. Her tail is bristled out and she seems to be thinking. Luna shard twitches one ear herself, sending a more comforting purr Faelinn's way.
Tymora raises her hourglass. "I can certainly lead. Or Luna can. Eris ought to stay as long as possible, in case the bird attacks again."
"Or birds," pipes up the Luna shard. "Remember, that was a lot of wings."
"Or thorns. Don't forget the thorns from the roses," Siap pipes up, frolicking over to Quinn and Amergin (much to Quinn's dismay). This time, it attempts to give Amergin plaid hair.
Sir A shakes her head, looking more angry at the mention of birds and roses once more. "Do you people wish to be led, or just told the direction?" she asks firmly but quietly.
"You can't miss it," adds Luna shard flippantly. "The cries of birds drown out the song-birds, and the forest gets more and more black around you as you venture close."
"She's... that is that creature; she is a strong one," mumbles Sir A.
"Do you wish to go by yourselves, or do you wish to have any or all of us join you?" asks Tymora.
"You may lead if you like." Magnus looks behind him as if he has heard something. "Do you feel we are being watched? Like we aren't quite alone in here and someone or something is along with us for the ride? I had the oddest sensation like some being was lagging behind us for a split second."
So. I'm along for the ride, the spirit Marduath thought to himself. And I'm watching. It's what I do. He chuckled. The shards of Iawen seem unaware of this. I may or may not make an appearance depending on the situation. And may or may not interfere....depending on the situation.
And Marduath started laughing in the background...A LOT.
November 5th, 1010 M.R.
Greetings Sir Iawen,
First off, I am glad to say that I have company with me for the winter (my friend (and quasi-pet raccoon) Belle is staying with me during hibernation) hopefully her accompaniment will stave off any *real* foreboding experiences, but I must say that this most recent dream I have had is not like any other. It actually quite frightens me because I do not understand why it came to me... And it felt so real. It was so real in fact that even though I have not been near any fighting recently I could have sworn that I was bound and recovering from some semi-recent excursion.
At first though I wasn't afraid, it felt normal. But then as I *remembered* (for I do not actually recall ever meeting or seeing this person ever before) my possible reason for being in my place of darkness I felt as though I were under attack by a large bird. Then I woke up... or at least I thought I did... because I then found a very real large black feather stuck in me.
For this I am very frightened and do not know what to do or who I should confide in. As your Squire I am turning to you in hopes that you can help me sort this out and can guide me in what I must do to organize this strange dream in place.
For Peace in Light,
Written hastily on the back of the letter, returned:
My name is Mya, I'm a servant girl who lives here in Coventry with the Crown Prince Gideon and others. This Iawen has taken sick-a-bed with a form of sleeping sickness, and I am to answer her mail. I'm sorry I don't have more than that to tell you other than if and when she wakes up, I'll have her contact you. The Crown Prince says however that as her squire you're welcome in Coventry, and to try and see what is actually going on; any help is welcomed.
Created by Janna Oakfellow-Pushee at 10-26-12 10:51 AM
Last Modified by Janna Oakfellow-Pushee at 10-28-12 04:03 PM